Neco

“Mom?” I walked in the front door, checking out the living room first.

I hated this house. Fucking loathed it with everything inside me. My mother refused to move. In the end, I’d bought it for her, after I’d offered to buy her something else, somewhere else, but she wouldn’t budge. I didn’t get it, didn’t think I ever would. This place was the backdrop to every ugly memory I had, the center of all the rage and humiliation and pain I’d felt as a kid growing up.

“Down here, baby,” she called.

Fuck, her voice already sounded slurred and it was only 10 a.m.

I walked down the hall to the small kitchen. It was the sunniest room in the place, always warm. I’d had it redone a year and a half ago, not that she really used it that much. I’d needed to wipe this place clean any way I could. So every room in this house had been painted, had new carpet put down, new furniture, curtains, the lot. It was the only way I could make myself walk through that front door and not tear the place apart with my bare hands.

She was sitting at the table, so damn small and pale. As a kid, I thought she looked like a fairy from one of the books she’d read me. She was so damn tiny, with those bright green eyes and all that wavy blond hair. At only five-foot-two, I towered over her, had done since I was twelve. I could only assume I got my height from the asshole who donated sperm to make me. Not that I knew who he was or where he came from. My mom had been stunning when she was younger, but now the evidence of her hard life lined her face. Her hair had some silver in it and the bright in her eyes had long since gone. She was still beautiful to me, though, always would be.

Her smile was wide and warm when she saw me. She tried to get up, but was too unsteady and sat back down.

“You hungry, Ma? How about I make us some breakfast?” She forgot to eat a lot. I had someone that delivered her evening meals, but she was supposed of take care of breakfast and lunch herself. I often got here to find she hadn’t touched the food in the fridge or eaten the dinners they’d bought her.

I walked around and dropped a kiss to the top of her head and she patted my cheek.

“I’m fine.” She took a sip of what looked like coffee, but was probably fifty percent vodka. We’d tried rehab more times than I could count. It never worked. She’d given up, on herself, on any kind of future to look forward to. So I did my best to make her life bearable, to keep her safe, to be there for her. “I was hoping you’d stop by today,” she said. “You haven’t been to see me in a while.”

I started pulling pans out to make bacon and eggs for us both. “I stopped by yesterday, Mom.”

“Did you?” She waved a hand, dismissing my words. “Anyway, I’ve missed you.”

“You know you can call me anytime, right? If you need something, or you just want to check in, use the phone I got you.”

She took a sip of her drink. “It won’t work. I think I broke it.”

I grabbed eggs and bacon from the fridge, taking her mug away from her as I passed, and poured her a fresh drink, minus the vodka. I put it down in front of her, then opened the junk drawer. Sure enough, the phone was in there. I pulled it along with the charger out, plugged it in, and carried on cooking. “It’s not broken. You gotta remember to charge the battery.”

She grinned a self-deprecating grin. “I’m such an idiot. You must think I’m so stupid.”

I fucking hated it when she talked about herself like that, but she’d had those ugly words hammered into her as a kid, then by the Johns that had used her for her body, and now she believed it. “You’re not stupid. I’ll get Joan to remind you when she brings dinner from now on, so you won’t forget.”

“Okay, baby.”

She hummed to herself while I cooked. If she wasn’t talking, she was humming or singing. It was a way to drown out the noise, the memories, she’d told me once.

If my minds quiet, it creeps in, the bad stuff, the memories. Music keeps them out.

She was a child abuse survivor, had been used and hurt in so many ways, ways I couldn’t even imagine, but she’d never let what she’d been through in her life destroy her beautiful heart. I don’t know how she did it, how she got through that shit, but my mother had shown me nothing but love growing up, even when the ghosts haunting her had threatened to break her completely. To some, what I’d grown up in . . . well, let’s just say, Celeste Malik wouldn’t have gotten any Mother of the Year trophies, but she’d done the only thing she knew how to do. Survive. The frail woman sitting at that kitchen table was my fucking hero. And as soon as I’d gotten old enough, I’d promised to take care of her like she had me. I would have robbed, fought . . . killed, to get her off the streets.

I had.

The memory of that day, when I could finally do that for her, was as clear in my mind as if it was yesterday.

I shoved the door open and went for the guy my mom was leading to her bedroom, one of her regulars. Grabbing him by the back of the shirt, I swung him back, shoved him against the wall, and plowed my fist into his gut.

He gasped then dry heaved.

“Don’t ever come back here,” I snarled in his face.

My mom rushed over. “What are you doing? Let him go.”

I ignored her and dragged the guy from our house, throwing him on his ass, out on the lawn. “If I see you here again, I’ll put a bullet in your skull.” Then I slammed the door shut and turned to my mother.

She stood there, small frame shaking. “Why did you do that? . . . Oh God, we needed the money, Neco . . .” She hugged herself. “We needed that money . . .”

I pulled a wad of cash from my pocket and placed it in her hand. “No more, Mom.” I said, shaking my head. “You don’t need to do it anymore.”

She grabbed my hands, gasping at the sight of my busted to fuck knuckles. “What did you do?”

I kissed her cheek and pulled her in for a hug. “It’s going to be all right now, Mom. I promise. I promise I’ll take care of you.”

I’d done my first job for Tomas that day, a local thug who’d started his criminal empire on our shitty streets. I’d been fifteen years old.

I’d do it again, for her, for anyone I loved, in a heartbeat.

We ate and talked, like always. I kept it light. She liked to hear about Hunter and his woman Lulu. Their son Josh. Hunter had spent a lot of time here when we were kids and she liked to know how the guys I’d grown up with were doing. It made her happy to know they were doing good. “What about you?” she said, head tilted to the side, her green eyes looking suddenly alert and clear.

“Hmm?” I shoved another mouthful of egg in my mouth.

A grin tugged the corner of her mouth. “You got yourself a girl?”

I shook my head. “I’ve got no time for a woman.”

“You need to make time. You’ve grown into such a handsome man. And you’re such a sweetheart. I bet there are lots of girls that would love you to ask them out.”

I chuckled. “I’m not really a dating kind of guy.”

She smirked and I loved it. Loved to see her happy like this, joking around. “Nothing’s changed I see.” She patted me on the cheek. “I mean look at that face. You’re so damn cute. Too cute to be a heart breaker.”

“Come on, Ma, cut it out.”

She smiled and shook her head. “You need to find a girl, like Hunter did. A nice girl, with a lot of backbone, one that can keep you in line and will give me lots of grand-babies.”

Ruby instantly entered my head and I mentally shook myself. “Don’t think there’s a woman out there capable of keeping me in line.”

She laughed. “Of course there is.”

I knew one that could have me on my fucking knees if that’s where she wanted me. Shit, if she asked me to get her the moon, I’d boost a goddamn space shuttle to get it, just to see her smile.

Jesus Christ.

I put down my knife and fork and started cleaning up.

My mom’s chair scraped. “I can do that.”

“You stay there. I’ve got it.”

She started humming again, her eyes glazing over once more, the moment of clarity gone.

Shit. I kissed her cheek and got to work.

I still hadn’t allowed myself to think about the other night in great detail. If I did, I might go to Ruby and claim that perfect fucking mouth one more time. Seeing her rush into that house . . . shit. Anything could have happened. That fucker I’d gone after was up on attempted rape charges. He’d already served time for the same crime a few years back. The guy needed a bullet through the head, not release on bail. Just having Ruby in the same room as him had been enough to send me over the edge. It was either force myself to remain calm or lose my shit completely. But in the end, the urge to stake some kind of claim over her, to prove she was mine and if anyone touched her—fuck, looked at her—I would end their miserable lives, had been almost more than I could resist.

I should never have followed her up to her place.

Christ. I never should have kissed her.

Because now I knew, what it felt like to have her tight little body squirming against mine, the sounds she made when I slid my tongue deeper. It beat my fantasies and then some.

I wanted more of her, but that couldn’t happen. If I gave into it, this thing between us, eventually she’d see what a truly dark bastard I was, the anger inside me that I could barely contain, and she’d leave. She’d have every right to.

I’d sworn to protect her when we were kids, and that also meant from me.

So, I’d walked away from her.

Jesus, the way she’d looked at me when she realized that cop had given me her number. Yeah, I’d taken it, but I hadn’t planned to use it. Another thing I didn’t want to analyze too closely. Lately, casual hook-ups weren’t doing it for me. Maybe that was my problem, why Ruby was never out of my damn mind. I needed to fuck. I needed to screw someone else, anyone else, until I’d pounded and sweated Ruby’s face right out of my damn head.

Being celibate for a woman who I would never allow myself to have was fucked up.

I turned and looked at my mother. She was staring out the window, humming one of her favorite Keith Urban songs, and my gut knotted.

My mom hadn’t always been like this. But we’d hit hard times, and everything had fallen to shit. Rent was due and we had no money. Our landlord gave her a choice, give him the money, or pay on her back. My mom would have done anything to keep me safe, to keep us off the streets. I remembered that night vividly, like a fucking horror movie. That’s how it all started, the moment that sent her on a downward spiral, had set the nightmare of her childhood, that she’d managed to keep locked down, free. She started drinking not long after that.

Once she’d been carefree. She’d laughed all the time, had been a little wild, but there’d been this innocence about her, something that just seemed to draw people.

Hope. She’d had this unwavering sense of hope and excitement that had been infectious.

A lot like Ruby.

Then men just like me, with blackened hearts and marks on their souls, had used her and treated her like garbage. Men that had done unforgivable things. Men that weren’t worthy of even looking at her let alone putting their filthy hands on her.

My mom stopped humming and climbed to her feet, this time a little steadier after food and a coffee. Shuffling over to the counter, she picked up a yellow container that had pink flowers on it, and walked over, handing it to me.

“Take this, baby.”

I knew who it belonged to instantly.

My mom’s eyes lit up. “Give it back to my girl, would you? She brought me some of those brownies with the nuts and chunks of chocolate I like so much.” She patted my arm. “She’s such a sweetheart.”

Her girl.

Ruby.

She’d called Ruby that since she was six years old.

“She do that often, Mom?”

“Oh yeah, all the time, you know that.”

I knew she used to, but I hadn’t asked Ruby lately if she’d been by, and she hadn’t offered up the information. Ruby did a lot of shit like that. She cared about people; most importantly, she cared about my mother. Ruby showed tolerance and affection to a woman who had been known in this street as a whore, who drank at least a bottle of vodka a day. Had never once judged her for it.

She’d been there for me during the toughest time of my life. I knew Ruby thought I’d saved her back then. But she’d saved me, too. I don’t know what I would have done without her in my life. Giving me something else to fight for when things had felt so hopeless.

Ruby had a soft heart. A kind one.

And I refused to break it, to taint it. And that’s exactly what would happen if we ever gave into the banked fire between us.

* * *

Ruby

“You want another drink?” Scott yelled in my ear over the music.

I shook my head. “I’m good. I’m not here to drink. I just wanna dance.” God, Scott looked more tweaked than usual tonight. I usually avoided him when he was like this, but he’d tagged along with me when I told him I was going out. I was usually pretty good at coming up with excuses to ditch him, but I was seriously off my game at the moment—and I knew exactly who was to blame.

One kiss and my life had changed, just not in the way I’d imagined it would.

Harry, who I occasionally moonlighted for, had been trying to get me to come and work for him for a while. He needed a female agent and we worked well together.

I’d called and accepted the offer ten minutes after Neco walked away, leaving me standing outside my apartment door, lips still tingling. Dazed, confused, and then pissed the hell off.

Hunter and Van hadn’t been happy about my leaving, or the fact my resignation was effective immediately. I’d offered to come in after hours and keep on top of things for them for a few weeks until they found someone else, but they let me off the hook, and I got the feeling they had an idea who was behind me finally taking the leap and going after what I wanted. I hated doing that to them, they were my friends first, but it was time I did something for myself. Went after what I wanted, needed.

I loved Neco, I always would, and I knew he would always be a part of my life in some way, but I had to do this for me.

I had to stop letting him dictate my future, no matter how well meaning he was.

“You sure? A few drinks won’t hurt,” Scott said close to my ear.

“I’m sure,” I said, putting a few steps between us.

Scott nodded, then his eyes were darting around the club again. Paranoid as hell. The guy was acting weirder then usual lately, clingy, too, which I didn’t get. Yeah, he tried it on whenever possible, but I’d made it clear I would never go there with him ever again. One drunk, lonely night had been more than enough. I hoped like hell this wasn’t another attempt to lure me back in the sack.

I inwardly winced.

Neco hated Scott. With a passion. And thank fucking goodness, didn’t know about my alcohol-induced mistake with my roommate. He already thought I was an irresponsible idiot; he didn’t need any more evidence on that front. But despite occasionally using Scott to try and make Neco jealous, which was dumb and immature and had been unsuccessful anyway, I had no idea why he loathed my sleazy roommate as much as he did.

Maybe I’d just answered my own question?

The guy was a sleaze. None of my friends would stop by if Scott were there. Neco thought of me as a little sister . . . well, that’s what I’d thought until last night. Now I didn’t know what he was thinking, and honestly, I was done trying to work out where his head was at, and I was done calling him all the time, relying on him for everything. Playing games. Every time I pulled that shit, not only had I pushed him farther from me, I proved him right, that I was not cut out to be an agent, that I couldn’t take care of myself. I’d been stuck in a self-destructive cycle that I hadn’t known how to stop. There was no rehab or AA meeting for someone stupid in love.

Or maybe just stupid.

That was over now, though. I didn’t know what that kiss was about, but his words—that should never have happened—had echoed through my head all night, making me feel nauseous. One thing I did know for sure, he was protective. If nothing else, I was family. He took care of family.

I looked over at Scott. My roommate wasn’t all bad. He paid the rent on time, hadn’t skipped out on me like my previous roommate. No, I had no idea where he got his money, since he was more often than not “in between jobs,” but I didn’t really care. He never invited his friends over, and the worst thing he did was watch porn. What guy didn’t watch porn? Hell, I watched porn occasionally. I was willing to put up with him for the guarantee of a roof over my head.

“Come on then.” He grabbed my hand and dragged me through the crowd toward the dance floor.

I let him. I didn’t want to dance alone, didn’t want to be alone. Even if the person keeping me company was Scott. The music was good, just what I needed to keep my mind off my latest drama with Neco. I shoved Neco, and the King Agency, out of my head and focused on the music, of letting it wash away the awful feeling in the pit of my stomach. I was supposed to be celebrating. I had a new job, the job of my dreams. I was going after what I wanted and no one was going to hold me back.

I don’t know how long we danced. It had to be hours. I’d relented and had two maybe three shots, so was feeling pretty good, but Scott kept leaving to go to the bathroom and every time he came back he looked more wild-eyed, his behavior more erratic, his paranoia increasing.

Then he started to get too close, tried to touch me.

I gave his chest a shove. “Quit it, Scott.”

“Come on, Rubes, you know you’ve been hanging out for a repeat.”

I gave his chest another shove. “I really haven’t.” I’d been so wasted, I didn’t even remember our night together. Not something I was proud of.

He came at me again, and no matter how many times I shoved him back, he wouldn’t leave me the hell alone. The guy was too fucked up to see how completely uninterested I was, to see any-damn-thing. The expression on his face said it all. Right then, he thought he was all things hot and sexy and I was going to be the lucky lady he slobbered all over.

Still, I tried to get through to him. “We talked about this. That night was a huge mistake.” I gave him a harder shove. “Now back the hell off.”

Scott gave me a lazy, sloppy smile and reached for my face.

I veered out of the way, pushing it aside. I didn’t particularly want to drop him on his ass in the middle of the club and make a whole spectacle. Which meant my night out was over. Why couldn’t he be a normal human being? I wanted a friend, not whatever the hell this was. I was done being nice.

I managed to hold him off until the end of the song, and during his next toilet break, I moved to the other side of the club, ditching him. I was not in the mood for his bullshit, not tonight. Screw that. I needed a cab, more than ready for home.

I had my phone in my hand when I saw Neco walk in. I spotted him easily, mainly because he towered over pretty much everyone else.

Shit.

Honestly, I wasn’t even really surprised he was here. He always seemed to find me.

I stayed where I was. I didn’t want deal with him tonight, especially after what happened between us. He was still standing by the door, scanning the room, the sweaty, grinding bodies, and somehow managed to home in on me. I had no idea how he did it, but he always managed to find me, no matter where I was, or how many people were in a room. A shiver slid down my neck, over my nipples, then lower. Stop it, Ruby.

What the hell was wrong with me? I had a problem. Seriously.

His eyes looked dark in this lighting. Black, intense, and they stayed on me, never leaving me once, as he made his way across the club.

He didn’t stop until he was right in front of me. “I’ve been looking for you,” he said.

I could barely hear him over the music, but I read his words on his lips. Don’t look at his lips. I shrugged, unable to form a coherent sentence when he was looking at me like that.

“We need to . . .” he glanced around me, frowning. “Who are you here with?”

I leaned toward him so he could hear me and forced myself to speak. “Scott, but he’s kinda tweaked and acting weird.” I started to babble, something I did when I was nervous. I was beyond that now. I was close to hurling. I hated to admit it, but I was already feeling fragile, something I hadn’t felt in a long time. But after that kiss between us, then him coming here, acting like it never happened . . . it hurt. If that’s how he wanted to play it, that’s how we’d play it. Talking about it was the last thing I wanted. “I don’t know what’s going on with him . . . anyway, I ditched him. He was being an octopus-hands, so I’m not really in a hurry to track him back down.”

Silence.

Shit, did I say that out loud? Good one, Ruby.

“Scott’s kinda tweaked?” he rumbled.

“Ah . . . yeah, kinda.”

He cursed several times, loud and rough. “Let’s go.”

“I’m fine.” I held up my phone. “I was about to call a cab.”

“I’m taking you home.”

“No.” I shook my head. “I’ll get myself home.” I pushed away from the wall, but someone wrapped their hand around my wrist, pulling me to a stop . . .

I spun around.

Awesome.

“There you are!” Scott yelled in my ear. “I’ve been looking all over for you.” Then he pressed in close, rubbing his erection against my hip. “Come back and dance with me.”

“No. I’m going to . . .”

A shadow moved over us, the red, green, and blue lights no longer flashing across Scott’s face. I tipped my head back and looked up at Neco. Could this night get any worse? I couldn’t think how.

Neco looked pissed off—no, furious. “Take your fucking hand off her.”

He was using that low, yet deceptively calm voice he often used on me. I’d dubbed it, the lesser, but still deadly, Calm Before the Storm. It basically meant if you didn’t comply, you were about to get a dose of Neco’s displeasure. Story of my damned life.

I yanked my hand free of Scott’s hold. “Let’s just go,” I said, trying to defuse the situation. I didn’t want him to drive me home, but I didn’t want him to cause a scene either. “He doesn’t even know what day it is right now. Just leave it.”

Neco’s eyes slid to me. “You want me to leave it?”

I shrugged, trying to act like this was nothing, that having Scott giggle like an escapee from a lunatic asylum, while poking at my hip with his boner, was the norm. It wasn’t. Scott could be a dick, but lately, he was worse. “Yes.” Then tacked on, “Please?” Hoping like hell a little pleading might do the trick.

I was wrong. Neco grabbed Scott by the front of his shirt and shook the shit out of him. “Don’t you ever lay a fucking hand on her again. Understand?”

Scott blinked up at him, looking dazed and confused. Then he started giggling again.

Fuck my life. Seriously.

Neco shoved him away, and Scott landed on his ass. Ignoring him, Neco curled his hand around the back of my neck, and propelled me forward. I felt like a naughty school kid being marched to the principal’s office. It took all my strength not to spin on him and deliver a roundhouse kick that would drop the arrogant bastard to his knees. The crowd parted for us as Neco strode toward the door. No doubt his thunderous expression was what had people scattering like autumn leaves on a windy day.

He led me to his Escalade, and yanked open the door. “Get in.”

I turned to him, over this whole damn night. “I’m thinking you might want to rethink your tone.”

His expression got darker, body carved from stone, but then surprised me by saying, “Please.”

I climbed in, but I wasn’t celebrating. I may have won that battle, but I got the feeling I had a war ahead of me.