Every muscle on his finely honed body tightened.
“I hated that, Zeke. I kept thinking . . . I should be able to fight this asshole off.” I shook my head. “I’ve done advanced self-defense and close quarter combat classes, but I don’t know, I guess I froze, or I never really believed Scott would do that and hesitated.” I forced my eyes to meet his. “I fucked up.” I glanced down the hall beyond him, feeling the same need to be stronger, better, smarter, to not be this . . . this victim anymore. I’d had a scare. I’d gotten the shit beaten out of me, but I hadn’t changed my mind about what I wanted to do. I just had to make sure I was prepared in every way I could to do the job. I turned back to him. “Will you work with me maybe teach me some attack moves, how to fight dirty, to kick some ass?”
His head tilted to the side, like a large, curious jungle cat. “Not sure Neco would like that,” he finally said.
His voice was low and a little rough, but also held a softness. Affection, understanding, came through loud and clear. “It can’t be him, Zeke. You know what he’s like. He won’t be down with me learning to fight, really fight. Self-defense, sure. More than that, he’ll assume I’m going to go vigilante on the mean streets of New York.”
“Are you?”
“No,” I partially lied. No, I wasn’t going to go vigilante, but I would use it for more than self-defense. “Of course not. I’m an agent for Harry now. I need to know this stuff.”
He stayed motionless, staring at me for several seconds, then finally said, “I’ll show you a few moves now. More than that? You talk to Nec first. He’s cool with it, I’m at the agency gym every morning.”
“Yes!” I did a little one-two punch in the air then flexed my biceps to try and lighten the moment. He shook his head, and I think I saw his lips twitch, but I couldn’t be sure.
“We do this, I’m not going easy. I teach you right or not at all.”
I nodded, excitement and relief unfurling in my belly. That was exactly why Zeke was perfect to train me. “Good.”
He walked in, took off his jacket, walked to the middle of the floor, and motioned me forward. I swallowed past my dry throat, past the awful feeling in my gut, those flashes of memory, Scott’s expression as he hit me over and over again, of that feeling of helplessness. I swiped it from my mind, leaving it behind, and met Zeke in the middle of the room.
We did exactly what he said, went through the basics, things I already knew, but the way Zeke showed me, explaining what each move did, how it worked, why it was effective, really sunk in. Zeke had a way about him. He never made you feel self-conscious or stupid—not that any of the other guys did, or would, but there was just something about Zeke. Maybe he made me feel a little like I did when I was around Neco, but obviously without the blistering sexual attraction. The way Zeke quietly observed made me nervous but safe, at the same time.
We finished up when Zeke had to take a call.
I left him to it, after I not so subtly eavesdropped to see if it was Neco. When I established it wasn’t, and we said our goodbyes, I headed to the bathroom to grab a shower. I stripped off and looked at myself in the mirror. I looked like myself again. I felt stronger, my confidence receiving a boost after my session with Zeke. I couldn’t wait to do another one.
I also knew I couldn’t sit around and do nothing. I wasn’t going to just wait for Neco to fix this for me. I was a capable, strong woman. I didn’t need a man to fix anything for me. It’d taken me a long time to get to this point. I’d relied on Neco so much through my life . . . I’d needed him, and I’d always need him in a lot of different ways, but I didn’t want our dynamic to be hero and damsel anymore. We needed to go into this relationship as equals.
Neco didn’t want me leaving the apartment on my own, but I needed to do this. I was strong, I was smart, and knew what I was doing.
I was an agent, and tonight I had work to do.
* * *
Jimmy’s apartment building was not the best. Scott’s best friend was an actor, or so he said. He’d never actually been in anything, not even community theater, from what he’d once told me, which was why he lived in a dump like this. Since he also had a bad habit he couldn’t quit, I was surprised he could even afford this place, let alone pay for drugs. I took the stairs to his third-floor apartment, since the elevator was out of order. Neco said Zeke had checked the place out, but Scott knew what most of the guys at the agency looked like. He could have been hiding or maybe he’d been somewhere else when Zeke came looking. There was something he wanted to tell me, protect me from. I wanted to know what that was.
I hadn’t come unprepared. I had my gun, as well as my Taser and some pepper spray. But the same thought I’d had after my encounter with him on the street was running through my mind. I truly didn’t believe he wanted to physically hurt me. He was a sick, perverted, confused individual, and I would love nothing more than to castrate him with a rusty spoon, but there was more to this whole thing.
Let’s go, quickly. It’s not safe.
He’d seemed genuinely concerned, panicked when he approached me outside that cafe.
I needed to know what he meant by that? Why didn’t he think I was safe?
And if he tried to hurt me again? I was more than ready. This time there would be no hesitation.
I knocked on Jimmy’s door, then reached back, resting my hand on the gun I’d shoved down the back of my jeans.
Scott apparently wanted me, badly, for whatever reason. Which meant if he was here, the door would open.
Nothing. Not even a scrape or bump came from inside the apartment. I tried again. Still nothing. I contemplated sitting there in the hall and waiting, but changed my mind when I heard yelling from the apartment across from me.
What now? I needed to figure out my next move.
And I wasn’t leaving without getting inside Jimmy’s place. Scott could be in there now, hiding, assuming Zeke had come back or one of the other guys from the agency.
I took the stairs back down to the ground level and out of the building. There was a small alley between Jimmy’s building and the next and I hustled down it and glanced up at the fire escape.
Doesn’t look too hard.
Fifteen minutes later, after boosting myself up on a dumpster, I was climbing the fire escape to the third floor. It was rickety as hell, rusted and squeaky, but no one poked their heads out to check what was going on. I found Jimmy’s window and tested it. Locked. It was dark inside. I couldn’t see much of anything.
Hmmm.
Screw it.
Taking off my jacket, I wrapped it around my fist and waited. As soon as a horn blared down the street, I smashed through the glass, hoping the noise covered the fact I was currently breaking and entering. I quickly unlatched the window and climbed in, careful of the glass. My feet hit the carpet and I straightened . . .
My hand flew to my nose. Dear God, what the hell was that smell?
I pressed my shirtsleeve to my nose and mouth, walked to the door, and flicked on the light. The place was a mess. Furniture overturned, food dumped out of the fridge onto the kitchen floor. Cockroaches scattered and I swallowed back a shriek. I fucking hated cockroaches. That must be the smell. It’d been over a week since Zeke came looking for Scott and the place was pretty stuffy and warm.
This wasn’t good, not at all.
I moved toward the bedroom. The door was slightly ajar. May as well check the place out before I left. Scott still could have been here, could have left some clue where he was going next. And where the hell was Jimmy?
I stepped over a couch cushion and, covering my hand with my sweater, so I didn’t leave any prints, shoved the bedroom door open.
A scream burst from me before I could stop it. I stumbled back a step, my eyes locked on the bed in the middle of the small room.
Jimmy lay face down, hair matted with blood. It had soaked into the covers around him, a reddish brown stain surrounding his motionless body. Going by how much there was, I could only assume his head was
n’t the only place he’d been injured. I’d never seen a dead body before, but I didn’t need to check his pulse to know that’s what I was looking at.
Someone had killed Jimmy. Had brutally murdered him.
I stumbled out of the room, scrambling back out to the fire escape. And as soon as I was back on the ground, I called the cops with an anonymous tip, because I couldn’t just leave him up there like that.
A shiver skated up my spine. Did this have something to do with what Scott wanted to tell me? Where the hell was Scott?
God, why would anyone what to hurt Jimmy? The guy was harmless, kind of sweet. He didn’t deserve to die like that. No one did.
I left the alley and, shoving my hands in my pockets, got the hell out of there.
I needed to get home before Neco did.
* * *
Neco
I stood, hands curling into fists, pacing my living room like a caged lion. The rage pounding through me was more than I could contain. I stormed back to Scott’s laptop and looked at the screen again. I wanted to find that fucker and torture him, dismember him, burn him until there was nothing left. The cameras Scott had put in Ruby’s room didn’t just feed to the sick fuck’s computer, they were live streaming to a website. I hadn’t been able to gain access to it yet. It was locked down tight, more than likely invite only, which meant assholes with lots of money. I had a sick feeling about this. Was there more to this than a bunch of perverts in suits watching Ruby sleep, shower, brush her damn teeth?
After coming home and finding Ruby looking wiped out, even in sleep, I ignored the urge to climb in beside her and decided to have another crack at Scott’s laptop. It paid off. I now knew the cameras had been used for more than just material for Scott to stroke his dick to, and I had a name: Imperious Incorporated. But that’s all I had. The owners were anonymous, hiding behind a shell company. They’d kept their names off any and all paperwork connected to the name, which was perfectly legal. Whoever was behind it had made sure to cover their tracks and then some, but I had a few contacts I could call on, people who may be able to dig deeper. I needed to make sure Ruby wasn’t at risk from these people. I carried on scrolling though files, pictures, whatever else I could find. Shit, I was almost afraid to look. What the fuck would I find on this motherfucker’s hard drive? There was nothing of importance in his documents. He didn’t have much in the way of pictures either. I clicked on videos and hit the first one. It was titled Chantal.
It took only a few seconds for me to work out what I was watching. The prick obviously liked to video the women he fucked. I clicked out and scrolled through the names. There were a lot and I couldn’t work out how all these women could be so damn blind, stunned that not only did they talk to the sick little fuck, they let him fuck them.
I was about to exit out and close it down, when a name caught my eye . . .
My entire body froze.
No.
Please, fuck no.
Ruby.
I felt like someone had just battered the side of my head with a baseball bat.
On autopilot, I clicked the video open and stared at the screen in a numb kind of daze. Ruby stumbled into the shot giggling. She tripped on something and fell on the floor, busting into more laughter.
“I think I had too much tequila.” Her voice was slurred. She was obviously wasted.
Scott moved into the shot. “Nah, just the right amount, beautiful.” He leaned down and roughly picked her up off the floor and dumped her on his bed.
“What’re you doing?”
“I’m going to kiss you.”
She shook her head. “That’s a bad idea. We live together.” She smiled a dopey smile. “You just moved in. If I lose another roommate, I’m screwed.” I was going to throw up . . . but I couldn’t look away. Couldn’t make myself slam it shut.
Scott dragged her shirt off, and Ruby just lay there, too fucked up to even know what was going on. “I’m not going anywhere. You got a boyfriend?” Scott muttered, then started kissing her tits.
She shook her head in that sloppy way wasted people do. “No.” She pushed at his shoulders. “Come on, Scott. Let me up.”
Scott lifted his head. “Why? You still a virgin?”
She shook her head again. “I’ve done it once before.” She frowned. “Didn’t much like it.”
“Then whoever you were doing it with wasn’t doing it right.” Scott said.
Another shake of her head. “Maybe. But we’re roommates, we can’t do this,” she said again.
Scott turned his head, looking right at the camera, right into my eyes, like he knew I’d see this one day, and smiled. I couldn’t move, couldn’t fucking breathe as I watched him turn to her, shoving her legs apart.
“Come one, Ruby.” He ground against her and she gasped. “You know you want to.”
“It’ll make things weird between us,” she slurred in reply.
He kissed her softly. “No, it won’t. We’re just two people making each other feel good. That’s it. No reason to overthink it. Nothing will be weird,” he said, coercing her.
She blinked up at him. “Are you sure?”
“Yes.” He ground into her again. “You’re so fucking hot, Ruby.”
His hand dropped to her thigh and he shoved up her skirt.
She tried to sit up. “I don’t know, I still don’t think this is a good idea. Maybe I should go back to my room.”
Scott pressed into her, holding her down. “You don’t want to go back to your room.” Ruby bit her lip as Scott dragged down her underwear.
“I’ll make you feel good.” He was fumbling with the front of his jeans. “You on the pill?”
“Yes,” she mumbled. “But . . .”
“Shhhh.” His hips jerked back then slammed forward.
She cried out and it wasn’t from pleasure, hands, nails clawing at his back. She wasn’t wet, didn’t want him—didn’t even know what the fuck she was doing.
The hair on the back of my neck lifted, and I broke out in a cold sweat, salty-tasting saliva filling my mouth. I dragged in a breath through my nose, fighting the urge to vomit as my body started to shake so hard from rage, I didn’t know what to do with myself. I curled my hands into fists, knuckles cracking, fingers going numb I squeezed so tight.
I forced myself to watch the whole thing. Punishment for letting her go, for letting this happen to my woman. She never once told him to stop, but I wasn’t even sure she was still fucking conscious. It was over in a few minutes. Scott got up, wiped his dick on Ruby’s T-shit and grinned down at her, looking smug as fuck. Ruby was out cold. Scott walked to the camera and turned it off—but not before one last smirk into the lens, right at me. Then he waved. “Hi, Mom,” he said then snorted.
I slammed the laptop shut and stumbled to my feet, dragging my hands over my head. The fucker was sick, sicker than I thought. I was as close to the edge as I’d ever been. I stood there, emotions like a tornado inside me, whipping through me, tearing at my insides—fuck, shredding me. I was torn between going in there and holding her so tight she’d never get away from me, and shaking the fuck out of her for getting herself into that situation with a guy that, at the time, she’d hardly known. Shit, she’d never known.
It was wrong, I knew, feeling that way. None of it was her fault. None of it. It was all mine. I’d left her unprotected. I’d failed her.
I sucked down great lungfuls of air, but I couldn’t stop shaking, from the rage thrumming through me, from having no one to direct it at. I wouldn’t rest until I found Scott.
Until I put him in the ground.
I moved down the hall on autopilot, pushing the door to our bedroom open. Ruby was curled up on her side of the bed.
My heart started thumping harder in my chest.
She shifted under the covers, then rolled over, lifting to her elbows. “Neco?”
I couldn’t make my goddamn mouth work. How could I tell her, what I’d found out today, what I’d just seen? How?
She sat up, the covers dropping. She was wearing that tank she liked to wear to bed. Her skin looked even paler in the moonlight streaming in through the window. “What is it? What’s going on?”
“You’re beautiful,” I choked out.
Shoving back the sheets, she walked straight to me, knowing what I needed instantly. Her, close. Her hands went to my waist, fingers curling into my shirt, and she tilted her head back. “Talk to me,” she said, concern clear in her eyes.
I cupped her beautiful face. There was no way to sugarcoat this, any of it. As much as I wanted to shield her from it, I couldn’t. This was about her, had happened to her, and she deserved to know. I slid my thumb along her jaw. “I found out the footage Scott was getting from those cameras wasn’t just streaming to his laptop.”
She blinked up at me. “No?”
I could tell she was trying not to show how worried she was, but I could hear it in her voice. “Baby, it went to a website . . . where people pay to watch.”
Her body started to tremble against mine, and she started breathing harder, faster.
“Ruby . . .”
“Right.” She nodded, slender throat working. “I guess it shouldn’t be that much of a surprise, really. He had cameras in my room, there was always a chance he’d shared the footage.”
I slid my thumb along her jaw again. “I found something else.”
She dragged in a breath through her nose. “Awesome.”
I stared down at her. “Baby . . .”
“Whatever it is, Neco, I can take it.”
Fuck.
I turned, pinning her to the wall, lifting her, so I was all she could see. I knew she saw it all on my face then, the sympathy, the rage, so much rage, on her behalf, when I felt her body brace against mine. Preparing to take the blow I was about to deliver.
“I found a video on his laptop . . . a whole lot of them, actually.”
“What kind of videos?”
“Baby, they were sex tapes, of him and the women he slept with.”
Her eyes screwed shut, an anguished sound tearing from her throat. Then she started to struggle. I wasn’t letting her go, though. I was never letting her go. No matter what was thrown at us, we could face it together. “Ruby, look at me.”
Broken Rebel: A Lawless Kings Novel Page 15