Hard Ruck (Ruck Boys #2)

Chapter 1

Chapter One

Chelsea

“You’re out of your mind.” Belinda Simmons’s gaze held a rapidly dwindling hint of defiance. There was no heat behind her words now. No anger. Fear was taking over.

I’d watched for the last hour as the fury faded out of her, and she finally realised she was fucked. It should have been satisfying, but it wasn’t. Nothing about this was right.

“All I asked was for you to delete that article.” I toyed with the gun in my hand. I wouldn’t use it, not on her. I didn’t need to. I made my point back at her apartment. Her keyboard was shot apart, nothing more than splinters of plastic and wires. Her monitor too. Neither of my bullets had touched her.

She might come to wish they had.

“Who is she?”

I glanced over my shoulder to see my brother reach the bottom step of the stairs that led into his workroom. He handed me a cup of coffee and took the gun from my fingers.

“Belinda Simmons,” I said, my tone clipped, controlled. Clinical. “She writes for one of those online magazines that thrive on gossip about famous people.”

“Ah.” He placed the gun aside and leaned his hip against a stainless steel workbench, his ankles crossed. He sipped his coffee and watched the woman currently chained to the ceiling, both arms raised over her head.

Belinda looked at him with something like hope in her eyes. “There’s been some kind of misunderstanding. Whatever this woman thinks is going on—” She jerked her head towards me. “She shot at me and then forced me into the back of her car at gunpoint. She brought me here.” Her voice grew increasingly higher with each word. The last two were delivered in a painful shriek.

“Huh, Chelsea did that?” He looked over at me, eyebrows raised in semi-mock disbelief. Most of it was for Belinda’s benefit. “I thought you didn’t like this shit?”

“I don’t,” I said dryly. “I made an exception for her.”

“See, she admits it,” Belinda said. “She’s out of her mind. She needs professional help. A doctor.”

He smiled just slightly. He didn’t take his eyes off me as he responded to her. “As it happens, I’m a doctor.”

She sagged slightly, visibly relieved. “Then you can?—”

He turned to her, slow and deliberate. “You’re misunderstanding. I’m not that kind of doctor. Let me introduce myself. Isaac Miller. Most people call me Ice.” He was still smiling, but his tone was borderline menacing. “I’m a pathologist. Some people might say I’m pathological, but that’s another story. Mostly I work on dead people.” He sipped his coffee like he was having a pleasant chat with a friend.

“Sometimes those dead people are alive when they get to me. By ‘sometimes,’ I mean about ninety-five percent of the time. Once in a while they walk out of here alive, but they usually aren’t people who said my sister was out of her mind.” He glanced back quickly and gave me a fond smile.

I returned it and gulped my too-hot coffee while watching his words sink into Belinda’s mind. I saw the exact moment she realised she might not get out of here alive.

“I’ve been called worse,” I said. I didn’t elaborate. That didn’t matter right now.

“No one insults my sister and gets away with it.” Ice snaked an arm around me and pulled me in to press a kiss to my cheek.

I leaned into him, absorbing his comforting warmth. Only a handful of years older than me, he always looked out for me. Nothing ever seemed to be too much trouble for him where I was concerned.

Some people might find the protective older brother thing annoying or oppressive, but I basked in it. I loved that we still had a close relationship, even as adults. Even with vastly different, separate lives. He had a girlfriend, boyfriend and another partner involved in the relationship, but he always made time for me.

“I spoke rashly,” Belinda said quickly. Her thoughts couldn’t have been clearer. She thought we were both out of our minds. “If you let me go now, I won’t say anything to anyone. I’ll forget I ever met either of you.” She was quickly becoming desperate. Fear began to override rational thought. How long would it take for her to snap?

Ice winced playfully. “That’s not nice. How could you forget us? I thought we were friends, Belinda?”

She gaped at him, struggling to figure out the right words. What could she say that would make us unchain her and let her go? As if the perfect plea and tone would placate us somehow.

“What do you want?” she asked cautiously.

“Ah, the third stage of grief,” Ice said with a knowing nod. “Bargaining. One of my favourite stages. Although, depression and acceptance are also good. And I have to give a nod to denial and anger as well. I’ve seen all of them in here over the years. Can you guess where bargaining gets most people, Chels?”

“Nowhere?” I suggested.

He grinned. “You always were my smartest sister.” He gave me another squeeze before stepping away. “She’s right; nowhere. One of my interests is testing human endurance. Specifically, how long a person can tolerate pain. It’s fascinating. And all for science, of course.”

“Of course,” I said. I suspected Belinda’s tolerance was low. She looked close to pissing herself. I had to give her credit for not doing it already. “I am your only sister though.”

He chuckled at the feigned annoyance on my face. He knew how to get a rise out of me, but he never meant any harm by it. He’d chain himself up in here and torture himself before he did anything to hurt me. Although, he’d enjoy doing that to himself, so it might defeat the purpose.

“You can’t just chain someone away in a basement and…” She struggled, trying to pull her wrist out of the cuffs they were in. “When the police catch up to you?—”

Ice laughed. “I see you don’t know how things work here in Dusk Bay. The police don’t have that much influence. They aren’t allowed to. Other forces have authority in this city. I’d tell you, but then I’d have to kill you.” His brow creased briefly before he smiled again. “Since I’m doing that anyway, Reuben Brantley is the boss around here. Samuel Bell too, to some extent. That’s all getting muddy these days, what with Sam’s daughter being with Reuben’s brothers?” He waved his coffee cup in the air dismissively.

“But the Brantley family is involved in…” Belinda’s eyes widened. “Organised crime. That’s what you are, isn’t it? That’s why you think you can do this and get away with it.”

She struggled again.

Ice laughed. “I can’t just get away with it, I’m paid to do this. I have the best job.” He finished his coffee and placed his mug on the workbench. “Chelsea, are you sure you won’t come and work with me? We’d have the best time.”

“I’m sure,” I said firmly, and for the umpteenth time. I’d go back to taking my clothes off and fucking men for money before I worked with him. Call me crazy, but I preferred sex to torture and killing. I suspected that, to him, they were all the same thing. Just another way to get off. To satisfy primal urges. Whatever did it for him, it didn’t do it for me.

My intention was to scare Belinda, that was all, but once I’d done it, I knew I couldn’t leave it at that. She would have called the police and I’d lose any chance I had of being team doctor to the Dusk Bay Smashers rugby union team. Not to mention being inconvenienced while my family worked to get me released from police custody.

What would Storm, Frost and Dallas say if they saw me here, like this? I’d like to think they’d be horrified, like any normal person. In reality, I suspected they’d like this side of me. The side that would shoot a woman’s computer and bring her down here at gunpoint, knowing she wouldn’t walk out of here again. The side that wouldn’t give up on my dreams without a fight. Even a dirty fight.

When it came down to it, there was nothing I wouldn’t do to get what I wanted. We all had that in common: me, my brother and my boyfriends. We were all ambitious. Driven to the point of ruthlessness.

“I’ll keep working on you.” He booped the tip of my nose with his finger before stepping over to open a drawer on the side of the room. “I can’t decide if I’m in a toenail mood or a fingernail mood.” He pulled a pair of pliers out of the drawer. “Some days, it’s so hard to decide. Can I at least convince you to decide for me?” He gestured towards his ‘guest’ with the pliers.

“What are you doing?” Belinda took a step back as if there was anywhere to go, pulling the chains to their fullest extent.

“We’re getting started,” Ice said cheerfully. “I don’t want to keep you hanging.” He chuckled to himself.

I snorted. “Ba dum tish.”

Being the smartass that he was, he actually bowed, making his dark ponytail swing to the side.

“See what you’re missing?” He straightened back up and stepped over to Belinda. “You could have fun with people like this, and enjoy my sense of humour at the same time.” He grabbed her hand and pulled it closer to his face. He gripped onto the fingernail of her pointer finger with the pliers and started to work it loose from its bed.

I winced and turned my face away, but I couldn’t shut out the sound of her scream of pain. She would have destroyed my life, but this was still horrible to watch. As many times as I’d seen him work, I was nowhere near used to it. No matter how deserving the victim. He got off on this, but I didn’t think I ever would.

“Kennedy used to have the same response,” Ice said. “But now, she enjoys my work as much as I do.”

I never saw his girlfriend down in his workroom, but I took his word for it. There was a darkness in her like there was in both of us. Apparently she was better at surrendering to hers than I was at surrendering to mine. Honestly though, I couldn’t imagine anyone enjoying this as much as my brother did. He’d always been fascinated by people and the way they worked. Why some people felt more pain than others; how far he could push people to make them scream, beg or die.

When was the first time he killed another person? I didn’t know. He probably remembered, like anyone remembers their first time doing something life changing. It wouldn’t surprise me if he’d lost count since then. Ironically, he’d never hurt a kitten or a puppy. If he saw anyone abusing an animal, he’d likely strangle them with his bare hands. Lucky for him, because if he did anything to a small animal, he’d have to deal with me.

“I should get going.” I glanced back in time to see him starting on the second nail. My breakfast threatened to come back up.

“No, please,” Belinda begged. “I swear I’ll do anything you want. Please.” Her eyes bulged wide, more white than irises or pupils. Her face was just as white, like all the blood drained down to her nail bed, where it now dripped. The tang of urine filled the room. The puddle at her feet trickled into a drain beside the wall.

If Ice didn’t clean his workroom thoroughly after each of his guests, it would mingle with the blood of countless other people who came before her. As it was, the concrete floor looked almost immaculate. My brother was nothing if not meticulous with maintaining the cleanliness of his space. Like any good doctor.

I eyed the gun lying on the workbench. I couldn’t let her out of here, but I could end her suffering faster. One bullet right into her brain and she wouldn’t feel a thing. She’d be dead and I’d never have to worry about her again. She wouldn’t have to endure the pain my brother was going to put her through the next few days. The agony. The torture.

I picked up our empty mugs and carried them upstairs to be washed.

I was many things, but I wasn’t a killer.