by Lori Sjoberg
Yankees Shirt nodded, his brow beaded with sweat.
“Good.” She released her grip and his head hit the floor with a dull thud.
Straightening, she moved toward Jack and the girl. “Let’s take her to security. She’ll need to file a complaint and get checked out by a doctor.”
The ship’s security officer found Yankees Shirt right where they’d left him near the elevators, balled up on the floor and mumbling like a lunatic. A quick search of his pockets yielded a small vial of clear liquid, an ounce of grass, two condoms, and a Bic lighter. They placed him under arrest for possession of marijuana, pending additional charges when the girl finally came around.
“Feeling better?” Jack asked Ruby as they exited the security office a couple hours later.
She shrugged, but the tension still lined her features. “I can’t help but wonder how many times he’s done that before and gotten away with it.” She dragged a tired hand through her hair. “How many lives he’s ruined.”
They stopped at the elevators, waiting for the bell to ding. Jack reached out, taking her hand in his.
“For what it’s worth, you handled yourself pretty damn well back there.” He gave her hand a light squeeze. “Impressed the hell out of me. He’ll think twice before he tries a stunt like that again.”
She didn’t answer. Instead, she stared straight ahead, her focus fixed on something far beyond the stainless-steel elevator doors.
It hit him then, the sickening realization that her emotions ran far deeper than tonight, and much closer to home.
“Something like this happened to you, didn’t it?” The thought made his stomach churn.
“Huh?” She blinked twice, and then shook her head. “No. Not me.”
Thank God. The knot in his chest loosened. “Someone close then?”
A long, uncomfortable silence stretched between them, and for a moment he doubted she’d answer. When she finally spoke, the words came out so softly he barely heard them.
“My sister.”
Ruby fell silent as she stepped inside the elevator. Her mind had taken a detour and wandered back to the nineteen sixties, when she still drew mortal breath and had yet to damn her soul through a premeditated act of vigilante justice.
For as long as she continued to exist, she’d never forget the shattered look on her sister’s face that muggy August evening. They’d violated Suzie. Broken her. Twisted a beautiful, intimate act into an abomination. Then left her lying half-naked on the front steps of her parents’ trailer when they were finished with her.
Unacceptable. Unforgivable.
Daddy may not have taught young Ruby much, but he sure showed her the proper way to handle a rifle. They were country folks, and when fishing season ended, hunting season began deep in the woods of Georgia. She’d put those skills to good use, making damn sure the McAllister brothers never defiled another woman.
Ruby pulled back from her trip down memory lane when she noticed Jack pressing the button for deck seven.
“My cabin’s down on three,” she said as she rubbed her throbbing temples. Inserting suggestions into the human mind always gave her a headache, and this one promised to be a doozy.
Well worth the price, she thought with a strong sense of satisfaction. If that bastard so much as thought about forcing himself on another woman, the things she planted deep in his subconscious would leave him curled up in a corner crying for his momma.
“I know,” Jack replied. “But I wanted to show you something before I walked you back to your cabin.”
She had no idea what he was talking about, but she was too physically exhausted and mentally drained to argue the point.
The doors slid open at deck seven. Threading his fingers with hers, Jack led her down the passageway leading toward the rear of the ship. At the end of the hall they took a left and entered the Speakeasy Tavern.
“I thought you might want to unwind a little before calling it a night,” he said by way of explanation.
It wasn’t the type of bar she normally frequented. Quiet and intimate, it had a cozy feel that made her uneasy. She didn’t like cozy, and she certainly didn’t go for intimate. She preferred the mindless crush of humanity where she could remain one of many, seeking comfort in the arms of a stranger she’d never met before and would never see again once the evening drew to a close.
And why not? Reapers lacked the lifestyle to accommodate long-term commitments. She’d never get married, never bear children, and never hold a career that didn’t revolve around the vicious cycle of death. The most she could ever hope for was a temporary respite from the strains of her daily existence.
“Can I get you something to drink?” Jack gestured toward the bar at the far side of the room. “Last call isn’t for another half hour.”
“No, thank you,” she replied, looking for a way to leave without being rude. In the end, she settled for honesty. “No offense, Jack, but it’s been a long night and I’m tired.”
“I know.” He offered a smile then, soft and warm and so genuinely sincere it made her heart melt a little. “Humor me for a few minutes and then I’ll take you down to your cabin, okay?”
How could she refuse?
“Okay. But just a few minutes. I want to put this day behind me.”
“Deal.”
Without another word he crossed the room, speaking briefly with the piano player before coming back to Ruby.
The opening chords of a bluesy melody filled the room, a soulful rhythm as smooth as silk. “If you don’t mind,” he said, his open hand extended in her direction. “I’d like that dance you so generously offered earlier.”
“I don’t know how to slow dance.” A weak excuse, but it was the only one she could think of on the spur of the moment.
Jack gave her a skeptical look. “It’s easy, Ruby. Just follow my lead and you’ll do just fine.”
The last thing she wanted to do was dance, but she also wasn’t in the mood to argue. “Fine. Just one.” With a weary sigh she took his hand, allowing him to lead her to the tiny parquet dance floor.
For a big man, he moved with surprising grace. He held her close, his grip firm yet gentle. The understated possession gave her an irrational feeling of security and had her relaxing in his arms.
She laid her head against his shoulder, soothed by the lingering scent of his aftershave and the steady rumble of his vitality. For the first time in hours, the tension bled from her body. She allowed herself the luxury of blanking her mind, of forgetting about everyone and everything but the feel of Jack’s arms around her, holding her as if she were actually something special.
She lost track of how long they stayed twined together, until the piano stopped playing and the bartender announced last call. In her periphery, she saw the last of the patrons slide off the barstools and head for the exits, leaving them alone with the bartender and waitstaff.
“I guess that’s our cue to call it a night.” Ruby stepped back from Jack’s embrace, surprised by her sudden feeling of disappointment because the evening was drawing to a close.
“Guess so.” He took her hand, threaded his fingers with hers. “I’ll walk you back to your cabin.”
Together, they took the stairs down to the third floor. She considered suggesting the elevators but decided against it, preferring to delay the moment of parting a little while longer. Once Jack left, she’d be alone with her inner demons, and they made lousy company. She’d much rather spend the evening wrapped around Jack.
“Would you like to come in?” she asked once they reached her cabin. She gave him her best sultry smile, hoping he’d take the bait.
He shook his head, even though the heat in his eyes screamed yes. “I’d love to, but not tonight. I don’t want you thinking I’m after only one thing.”
Great. Just what she needed, a white knight with a moral compass.
Jack reached up, his large palm cupping the side of Ruby’s face. His thumb stroked her cheek, his touch so tender it nearly melte
d her insides. “I’d like to see you tomorrow, if that’s okay with you?”
“Yes, of course,” she blurted before she even had the chance to think it over.
“Excellent.” He smiled then, looking so damn happy her heart skipped a beat. “I’ll call your room in the morning so we can make plans.”
“Works for me.”
The smile slipped, and his expression grew serious. “Not all men are like that, you know.”
She nodded. “I know. That’s why you’re still here.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment.”
“It is.” Over the years, she’d seen the best and worst men had to offer. Not all of them were human garbage like the McAllister brothers. Some were respectful to women. Caring and loyal. Generous lovers, eager to please. And as long as they abided by her rules, she enjoyed the pleasures they offered. “Thanks for sticking around tonight.”
“My pleasure. Until tomorrow, then.”
Ruby leaned against the door as she watched Jack leave. A soft sigh escaped her lips as she appreciated the way his jeans hugged the contours of his ass.
He made it halfway to the elevators before stopping dead in his tracks. He paused for nearly a minute, staring down at his shoes as if contemplating what to do next. Finally, he turned around and strode back to where she stood.
“I’ll kick myself all night if I leave without doing this,” he said, right before his hand cupped the back of her neck and his mouth claimed hers.
Ruby let out a muffled groan as surprise gave way to delight, and then delight made room for desire. She melted against him when he took the kiss deeper, his tongue stroking seductively against hers. His taste was exquisite—an intoxicating blend of the scotch he’d been drinking earlier and something raw, and hot, and undeniably male.
The initial jolt of pleasure subsided, replaced by a hunger so fierce it made her bones ache. Her hands fisted into the soft cotton of his shirt. Her heart pounded against her ribs, the thrill of anticipation racing through her blood faster than quicksilver. She wanted him, needed him—here, now, hard, fast. If they didn’t move to her cabin soon, she’d drag him to the carpet and do him in the hallway.
But then he pulled back, his expression so charged it weakened her knees. He closed his eyes and gritted his teeth, as if trying to regain some semblance of composure. The heat was still there when he opened his eyes, restrained passion lurking just beneath the surface.
“Until tomorrow,” he said, his voice rough and his breathing uneven, and then he turned on his heel and strode down the narrow corridor, skipping the elevators and disappearing into the stairwell.
Chapter 4
The next night Ruby arrived at the Nautical Mile with a little under thirty minutes to spare. Part of her normal routine involved scouting out the site of termination, to locate every entrance and exit and identify any potential hazards. The habit came courtesy of her former mentor, and the practice had saved her bacon on more than one occasion.
The bar was decorated in a garish island theme—bright lights and even brighter colors. Tables and chairs were painted an eye-numbing array of neon, and the bar was set up in true tiki fashion, complete with grass skirt, bamboo, and glasses carved out of coconuts. A tropical mural covered one wall, while the bartender and waitresses wore khaki shorts and gaudy, Hawaiian-print shirts. The only thing missing was Jimmy Buffett singing “Margaritaville.”
Scratch that. The Muzak version was playing over the speakers.
After walking the perimeter, Ruby snagged a table along the inside wall. The location gave her a clear view of the bar as well as both exits, the bathrooms, and the stage area, where a band was busy setting up their instruments.
Not wanting to stand out from the crowd, she’d dressed to blend with the casual atmosphere: plain tan capri pants, white V neck T-shirt, and well-worn sandals. The choker she’d chosen matched the color of her skin, and her long auburn hair was pulled back in a simple ponytail.
Tonight she was feeling tense, irritable, and impatient. Which was also part of her normal routine. The minutes leading up to a termination never failed to leave her agitated and unsettled. While she didn’t know the specifics, she knew somebody’s Caribbean adventure was about to come to an abrupt, unfortunate end, leaving his or her family devastated.
It didn’t take long for a waitress to approach the table. “Welcome to the Nautical Mile. I’m Monique. What can I get you to drink tonight?” the woman asked, all cheerful smiles and good nature. Young and pretty, she had flawless ebony skin and a healthy vitality that matched her appearance.
“I don’t know. What do you recommend, Monique?”
“Jeff at the bar makes a rocking blackberry mojito.”
Ruby smiled in spite of her foul mood, appreciating the girl’s enthusiasm. “Sounds good. Blackberry mojito it is.”
Monique headed toward the bar, leaving Ruby to take in the action.
So, who was going to be the unlucky stiff of the evening? The assignment listed only a time and location, leaving Ruby to ponder who and how. After so many years on the job, she’d encountered just about every situation imaginable, so she doubted it would be anything she couldn’t handle.
Chin propped on the heel of her hand, her eyes slowly scanned the room, soaking up the eclectic mix of humanity. Couples were getting cozy in the outer booths and tables, while singles clustered around the bar like lions staking out a watering hole on the Serengeti. Some primped, some flirted, while others strove to perfect the fine art of indifference. All hoped to cap off the evening with a little action.
“Hey, beautiful.”
Ruby blinked, turning her attention to the guy standing to her left. He looked young—very early twenties—cute but not handsome, with a mop of sandy blond hair and a tall, wiry build. Faded black cargo shorts hung low on his hips, while a pale blue tank top complimented his tanned skin. Classic surfer boy. He smiled as he brushed the bangs away from his eyes, flashing a straight set of pearly whites.
“Something I can do for you, honey?” She returned the smile, her voice a casual drawl. She had time to kill, after all. Why not spend it in the company of some available eye candy?
Because he wasn’t Jack? Well, there was that little sticking point, but since Jack wasn’t anywhere to be found, she didn’t feel too guilty about moving on to alternative forms of distraction.
“Mind if I join you?” Surfer Boy motioned to the empty chair on the opposite side of the small circular table. His voice carried a note of insecurity, just enough for her to find it endearing.
Ruby shrugged. “Why not? Knock yourself out.”
“I’m Kevin, by the way,” he said as he plopped down onto the chair. He stretched his long legs out, one of them dangling in the aisle.
“Ruby.” The waitress returned with her drink, and Ruby took a moment to sign the tab. Then she sampled her drink and decided, yes, Jeff indeed made a rocking blackberry mojito.
Kevin took a long pull from his bottle of Corona and glanced over his shoulder to a group of four guys hanging out near the end of the bar. His buddies, no doubt. One of them grinned and gave an enthusiastic thumbs-up, while another made a crude pumping gesture with his fist.
How charming.
“Friends of yours?” One-point deduction for obnoxious companions.
At least he had the sense to look embarrassed. “Uh, yeah. Don’t mind them. They’re idiots.” He shot his friends a dirty look, then took another slug from his beer and set the bottle on the table. “So, uh, is this your first cruise?”
“Yes.” Ruby sipped her own drink as the silence stretched out between them. She glanced down to check her watch. Eighteen minutes until show time. And it was going to be a long eighteen if this was the best conversation Surfer Boy had to offer.
The pulse of fresh mortality made its presence known, unnoticeable to everyone in the room except Ruby. She froze in her chair, trying to pinpoint the source, but she found it too faint to track. Not yet, but soon. As the ti
me of death drew closer, the call would grow from a pulse to a hum, drawing Ruby to the moment of transience like a fly to honey.
Kevin opened his mouth to say something, but then his gaze darted up and to the left, his eyes widening with what appeared to be fear.
“Hit the road, junior.” The words rumbled out of Jack like the warning growl from a Rottweiler. He towered over Kevin, broad and imposing, his expression bordering the dark side of unpleasant. Taut muscles strained against cotton, and damned if she couldn’t take her eyes off him. “You’re in my spot.”
Kevin didn’t need to be told twice. Wood scraped against tile as he bolted from the chair, retreating to his buddies at the end of the bar.
“I didn’t think he’d ever leave,” Jack said as he claimed Kevin’s vacated seat. He waved down a passing waitress and ordered a Chivas on the rocks.
“Did it ever occur to you that I might be enjoying Kevin’s company?” Ruby’s eyes narrowed, her mood wavering between annoyed at Jack for acting like a caveman and relieved he’d run Kevin off.
“Were you?” When she didn’t answer right away, a smug smile stretched across his face. “Nah, I didn’t think so. You’d chew that boy up and spit him out before he even realized what happened.” He scanned the room, his expression cool and assessing, before pinning her with an inquisitive look. “This place is definitely not you. What gives?”
The waitress returned with Jack’s drink, granting Ruby a temporary reprieve. He took a cursory sip before giving Monique a nod of approval and signing the tab.
Meanwhile, the pulse of mortality grew stronger, more insistent. It was originating from the far end of the room, between the bathrooms and the bar, but lacked enough definition to isolate to a particular source.
“So how’d you spend the day?” she asked once the waitress cleared out, hoping to change the subject.