Through Fire (Portland, ME #3) (18 page)

“It’s okay,” I placate him. I realize, he probably called when I was trudging home through the snow. But he’s not buying it.

“No, it’s not. Fuck, honey, I’m really sorry,” he says, and he sounds it. “Look, it’s going to take hours for us to get home in this weather, and then we’ll have to unload, but I’ll come see you as soon as I’m done.”

“Really, it’s okay,” I assure him. Now I feel bad about making him feel bad.

“Ruby.” He sounds firm. “I’ll see you sometime this afternoon.”

I don’t get a chance to say anything because he’s already gone.

-

“E
xcuse me?”

The snow had stopped around noon, letting a watery sun peek through every now and then. Gunnar had shown up shortly after I talked to Tim and was surprised to see me. He said he’d told Viv to stay home and that he was considering shutting down for the day. Then Dino walked in, and shortly after that Matt. Instead of sending everyone home, he suggested using the time to catch up on inventory, organizing, and give the place a thorough cleaning.

That’s what I’m doing. Pulling bottles and glasses down behind the bar and giving the shelves a good wash and swinging my hips to the oldies rock Gunnar had been playing all morning. I’ve already cleaned out the three small fridges that held the bottled import beers, some wines, and a few other things. Other than a couple of my neighbors from across the street, who came in hoping for a bite, it has been quiet. So the voice startles me and I swing around.

A tall man, about my age, with dark hair showing streaks of grey, is eyeing me top to toe from the other side of the bar. Something about him is familiar, but I can’t place it. All I know is his intense scrutiny is making me feel decidedly uncomfortable, and my eyes scan the bar to see where Matt is. Then I remember he went into the storage room to count bottles there. Dino is in the kitchen working on the pantry, and Gunnar is in his office. It’s just me.

Fighting down my unease, I wipe my hands on a towel and plaster on a friendly smile. “Hi there. Can I get you anything?”

“Nice place,” he says, looking around without answering me. “Didn’t know it was here until a friend told me about it. Easy to miss if you don’t know where to look.”

The conversation feels all wrong as chills roll down my back. “Did you want to see a menu?” I try again, throwing a furtive glance toward the back hallway, in hopes one of the guys will show their face.

“You’ve come up in the world since I saw you last,
Abril
.”

His use of my birth name freezes the breath in my lungs, and suddenly I know where I’ve seen him before. Club Innosins, heading into Carlos’ office as I was coming out of the bathroom, only days before I ran from Boston like I had the devil on my heels. He was with a second man. Now
that
man I would’ve recognized in a heartbeat. I saw him days later, from behind a pile of pallets in a warehouse, and then again parked out front of the police station where I’d just given witness against him.
Eduardo Lima.

“Ah, I see you recognize me. I was afraid of that,” he says in a low voice. “You understand I can’t risk leaving you. Loose ends and all that.” He waves his hand casually. “If you quietly walk out with me,
Abril
, nothing will happen to your friends or this quaint pub. It would be a shame,” he says, looking around the pub again. “Old structure like this, it wouldn’t take much to bring it down. Perhaps an unfortunate kitchen mishap?”

The air that was stuck in my chest expels in a rush, as if I’m punched in the stomach. A deep groan involuntarily escapes as I think of my friends hurt, of this place that’s become more like home these past months, destroyed. Despite the fact I want to run for help, fear for my new found family has me grounded to the spot. As if in slow motion, the man raises his hand and crooks his finger at me. My feet start moving before my mind has a chance to clue in.

I just step from behind the bar, throwing a last look at the empty hallway, when his hand snakes out and hauls me close by the neck. “Don’t even think about it,” he hisses in my ear.

A deep sadness settles in my chest when I meekly walk along beside him to the door.

“Hey, Ruby? Can you give me a quick hand?”

Gunnar’s voice sounds behind me, just as the door in front of me opens, and Tim and his brother walk in. The hand in my neck squeezes in warning right before he forcefully shoves me in the path of the two men rushing forward. With nothing to stop the momentum, I fly forward and crash into them, before knocking into something and then hitting the floor. Hard. An involuntary cry escapes me as I feel something give way and feel instant hot pain blast my right side.

T
im

It had been a pretty grueling drive, coming back from Freyburg. The trip, normally a little over an hour, had ground to a halt last night about twenty miles in. The roads had been bad, but worse was the lack of visibility. You couldn’t see where the road ended and the ditch began. Twice we’d barely been able to dig ourselves out of a drift on the side, when Ike spotted the brightly lit sign for an Econolodge through the snow. No one argued as I pulled onto the empty parking lot. It had been a fucking exhausting and very long day already, and driving home in this shit required a sharp head. Besides, Dad had worried me a bit, not wanting to give an inch to us younger guys, he’d worked his ass off all day. His breathing was still a bit choppy, though, even after we forced him to sit out while we loaded as much as we could of the wood on the truck and stacked the rest for pick up later in the week.

Since the snow had still been coming down steadily this morning, we didn’t bother hurrying out. Made more sense to grab a shower, even if it meant having to get back in yesterday’s dirty clothes, and grabbing a bit of breakfast, while hopefully the plows were out there doing their job. Still it took us a couple of hours to get home, where we first drop off Dad, before heading to my place to unload.

I haven’t been able to get Ruby out of my mind all morning. It sucks to think she’d worried last night while I was out cold, snoring away. I just dropped Ike off at home and had planned to drop Mark at my parents before heading to the pub, but I can’t wait.

“You mind hitting The Skipper first? Before I drop you off?” I ask my brother.

“Are you sure that’s wise?”

I look at him, surprised at his reaction. “Am I sure what is wise, exactly?” My sharp retort is met with a firm set of his jaw.

“Do you even know what you’re getting into? A woman with a history like that?”

Slamming my foot on the brake and coming to a stop at the curb, I turn my entire body to face him. “And what do you know of her history, huh? Do you really think that was some life-choice for her? Ending up where she did? She was branded, you bastard! At fourteen fucking years old, she was taken and branded like fucking cattle. I don’t even know the full story yet, but it doesn’t matter to me. None of that fucking matters to me. I’m disgusted that it would matter...” With a cutting motion of his hand, Mark cuts me off before I can finish my sentence. Anger is etched on his face.

“Shut up, you idiot. Has it occurred to you that I’m worried about you?” With erratic movements he runs his hands through his hair. “Jesus Christ. The woman is a witness to a murder, Tim. She was associated with one of Boston’s most renowned sex trade organizations. Saw one of it’s main players get killed. And is apparently on the radar of some less than law abiding members of the police force. You think I’m worried because she turned tricks?” He underlines his words with a frustrated groan as he leans his head back and closes his eyes. Stumped by his outburst, I only grunt in response. I understand where he’s coming from, but part of me still rebels at the thought that Ruby would have to be tainted by something that happened
to
her. Something out of her control from the very beginning.

“You care for her.” The statement is delivered with a hint of disbelief in his voice, but his conclusion is on the money. Fuck, yes, I care for her. Truth be told, the depth of it surprises me as much as it apparently does him.

“I do.”

“Shit,” he says, shaking his head. “I’m sorry, man. It’s just, she’s so different from your usual fare.” It takes everything out of me not to take a swing at him after all. Instead, I white knuckle my hands on the wheel and grind my teeth.

“She
is
different,” I manage, taking a deep breath and slowly letting it out. “She’s more.” I can feel his eyes on me but keep my focus on the snow bank on the side of the road.

“Right,” is all he says.

“Right. So are we done with this now?” I want to make sure.

“All done. The Skipper it is.”

-

T
here are only a handful of cars in the parking lot, which remains still covered in snow. Not a surprise really, even with the sky clearing, it’s still a mess everywhere. You’d be nuts to go out if you don’t absolutely have to.

Locking the truck, I slog through the snow behind my brother, who stops when we pass a dark sedan in the lot. Crouching down, he wipes some of the sludge of the rear bumper, revealing a
BPD, Boston’s Finest
sticker. I get an uneasy feeling as I look down the alley toward the pub and start walking in that direction. Mark is not far behind me, putting a hand on my shoulder.

“Hold up. Lots of those stickers around. Doesn’t mean anything.” He tries to reassure me.

“Is that why it stopped you in your tracks?” I shoot back, not slowing down for a second.

First place my eyes go when I push open the door is the bar, where I’d expect Ruby to be. Instead Gunnar is standing there, tension radiating off his body. It’s not until he calls out for Ruby that I notice her standing beside a lanky, tall guy. Her head down and her shoulders slumped. It takes a moment for me to register all is not well, when I feel Mark already moving to rush past me. Next thing I know, Ruby comes flying toward us, her arms windmilling. I try to grab for her when she bounces off Mark and crashes into a table before smacking hard into the floor. I helplessly watch as she lands on her side, her arm appearing to collapse underneath her with a sickening loud snap. Her pained cry has me shove Mark out of the way, and not paying any attention to anything or anyone else, I drop on my knees beside her.

Tears of pain swim in her eyes, but still she manages to force a smile. “I’m sorry,” she whispers, and I cover her mouth with my fingers.

“Shit, sweets. Nothing to be sorry for. Lie still,” I comfort her when she tries to move.

“Ambulance is on the way,” Matt says as he crouches down beside us. “Cops too.”

“No!” Ruby’s violent reaction startles me, and before I can hold her back, she scrambles to her feet, her useless arm flopping at her side. White as a ghost, she backs away straight into Dino’s massive chest.

R
uby

“No running, little one.” I hear Dino’s deep rumble behind me, as one of his arms bands around my waist, leaving me with nowhere to go.

“You don’t understand,” I whisper urgently, desperate to get away. “I have to go.” My plea goes unheard as I watch Tim scramble to his feet and approach me with his hand out, but instead of grabbing onto me, he carefully brushes the hair from my face and tucks it behind my ear.

“The office, Dino,” is all he says. Before I know it, I’m being frog-marched in that direction. Dino’s arm still firmly around my waist. A deep throbbing pain crowds out my panic as every movement jostles my useless right arm, and I have to push down a wave of nausea. Once inside Gunnar’s office, I’m gently, but firmly set on the couch, where Tim instantly takes a seat to my right, brushing his fingers lightly over the limp arm I’m now cradling in my lap. “Let me have a look, Ruby.”

“It’s fine,” I bluster through teeth that have started to chatter. “I’ll be fine. I heal fast.”

“Honey...this won’t heal on its own.”

When I look down, the sight of my arm bending at an unnatural angle has bile rising so fast, I’m not able to stop from spewing all over myself. Tears I saved up for decades start rolling down my face as I slowly close my eyes.

I vaguely hear people moving in and out, talking, but don’t really hear what they’re saying. My mind is swirling with thoughts of hospital bills, police involvement, exposure, and defeat. It isn’t until I feel something wet wipe at my face that I open my eyes to find Tim on his knees in front of me, cleaning vomit off my face and clothes.

“Hey,” he smiles gently. “I’m taking you to the hospital. Don’t panic,” he says when I shake my head. “There’s nothing to worry about. Mark and Gunnar are out there dealing with the cops, Dino and I will take you.” He grabs my coat that Dino hands over and drapes it over my shoulders.

“I don’t have insurance,” I whisper.

“I figured as much,” Tim says, his eyes steady on mine. “It’s not going to be a problem.” With that he stands up, and with an ease that belies my size, picks me up and carries me out into the hallway, ignoring my feeble protests. Dino is right behind him, talking on his phone.

I barely remember the car ride to the hospital, my mind is blissfully blank, but I’m constantly aware of the warm comforting body holding me, cradled in the backseat of the car, all the way there. My eyes stay firmly closed as I feel myself lifted and moved. I know I can’t hide behind my eyelids much longer when I hear the whoosh of automatic doors opening and closing.