8. Clay
Chapter Eight
CLAY
I frown as I circle the perimeter of Fit Mountain Ink for the third time. My instincts are humming, that familiar sixth sense that kept me alive through three combat tours.
The air feels charged, like the calm before a firefight.
As I circle around the back for my final check, my thoughts keep drifting back to Ruby. How her skin felt against mine this morning, how those three words had almost slipped out before I caught them.
When this protection detail ends and Holloway is back behind bars where he belongs, I’m telling her. No more holding back. No more pretending this is just physical attraction or professional concern. She needs to know that she’s it for me. That I’m not walking away.
My phone vibrates with an update from my FBI contact. They’re closing in on Holloway’s location. Good. The sooner this threat is eliminated, the sooner Ruby can stop looking over her shoulder. The sooner we can start whatever comes next.
I complete my circuit around the building, I pause at the back entrance, and my hand freezes on the back door handle. It’s unlocked.
Shit.
Instantly, my body shifts into combat mode as adrenaline floods my system.
I draw my weapon and enter the tattoo shop silently. The back hallway is clear, but I hear three male voices I don’t recognize. I peer around the corner. Three men have Ruby backed against the front counter. And one of the men is Vincent Holloway. He’s pressing a knife against Ruby’s throat while his men ransack the shop.
Fuck.
“Your father will pay handsomely to get you back,” Holloway sneers. “Though I might keep you a while first, just to teach him a lesson about consequences.”
Ruby’s eyes meet mine over Holloway’s shoulder. I see the flash of relief, quickly masked by fear. She’s smart enough not to give away my position.
I move without hesitation. The first thug doesn’t even know I’m there until my arm locks around his throat, cutting off his air supply. He struggles, clawing at my forearm, but I’ve already calculated the exact pressure needed. His consciousness fades within seconds, and I lower him to the floor without a sound.
The second man turns at the slight noise, reaching for his weapon. I don’t give him the chance. My fist connects with his throat, crushing his windpipe. He staggers back, gasping, eyes wide with shock. I follow through with a vicious uppercut that snaps his head back. Blood sprays from his nose, splattering across the polished floor.
Holloway spins at the commotion, dragging Ruby with him as a human shield, the knife still at her throat.
“One more step and she bleeds,” he snarls, backing toward the door.
I freeze, my hands raised slightly. “You’re not walking out of here, Holloway.”
His eyes narrow, recognition dawning.
“Hunt Security, right? James Wilson’s hired muscle.” He laughs, a cold sound that raises the hair on my neck. “You’re too late. I’ve already won.”
“Let her go,” I say, my voice deadly calm. “This is between you and Wilson.”
“She is between me and Wilson,” Holloway spits. “His precious daughter. His only weakness.”
Ruby’s eyes lock with mine, and I see something shift in them. Not fear—determination. She gives me the slightest nod, and I understand immediately what she’s planning.
“You won’t make it to the door,” I tell Holloway, drawing his attention fully to me. “There are police outside. FBI. Your escape route is cut off.”
It’s a lie, but it makes him glance toward the window.
That’s all Ruby needs.
She drives her elbow hard into Holloway’s ribs, simultaneously stomping down on his instep with all her weight. His grip loosens just enough for her to duck away from the knife.
I lunge forward the instant she moves, my fist connecting with Holloway’s jaw with bone-crushing force. He staggers backward, the knife slashing wildly through the air. I grab his wrist, twisting until the blade clatters to the floor.
Holloway fights back with the desperation of a cornered animal. He lands a solid punch to my ribs that would have dropped a lesser man. I absorb the blow, countering with a strike to his solar plexus that drives the air from his lungs.
“Ruby, get back!” I shout as Holloway and I crash into a display case, shattering glass across the floor.
She scrambles away, grabbing her phone from the counter. “I’m calling the police!”
Holloway roars in rage, lunging for her. I intercept him, driving my shoulder into his midsection and slamming him against the wall hard enough to crack the drywall. His head bounces off the surface with a sickening thud, but he’s still fighting.
I block a wild punch, countering with a precise strike to his temple. His eyes roll back, knees buckling. I don’t let him fall, instead pinning him against the wall with my forearm across his throat.
“It’s over,” I growl into his face. “You lost.”
His eyes refocus, hatred burning in them. “This isn’t over,” he wheezes. “Not while I’m breathing.”
“That can be arranged,” I say, increasing the pressure on his windpipe.
“Clay.” Ruby’s voice cuts through the red haze of my rage. “The police are on their way.”
I ease the pressure slightly, allowing Holloway to draw a ragged breath. “You’re lucky she’s here,” I tell him quietly. “Otherwise we’d be having a very different conversation.”
I spin him around roughly, forcing his arms behind his back. Zip ties from my pocket secure his wrists tightly enough to make him wince.
“Sit,” I command, shoving him down against the wall. I do the same with his two unconscious men, securing them efficiently.
Only then do I turn to Ruby, my eyes scanning her for injuries. There’s a thin red line on her throat where the knife pressed against her skin, and her hands are trembling, but she’s standing tall.
“You okay?” I ask, crossing to her in three long strides.
She nods, her eyes darting to Holloway. “He forced his way in.”
I pull her against my chest, one hand cradling the back of her head. “You’re safe now.”
She wraps her arms around my waist and I feel her trembling against me.
“That was quick thinking,” I murmur into her hair. “The elbow to the ribs.”
She gives a shaky laugh against my chest. “Self-defense class. Never thought I’d actually use it.”
My arms tighten around her. The thought of Holloway’s knife against her throat, of what could have happened if I’d been a minute later, makes me want to tear the world apart.
“Spike,” she suddenly gasps, pulling back. “He’s in the back room.”
“I’ll get him,” I say, reluctant to let her go but understanding her concern. “Stay where I can see you.”
She nods, moving to stand where she has a clear view of the back room door but is well away from Holloway and his men.
I find him in his travel terrarium in the office, seemingly unperturbed by the chaos. I carefully pick up the container, checking that the lid is secure before carrying it back out to Ruby.
“He’s fine,” I tell her, handing over the terrarium. “Not even stressed.”
Relief floods her face as she peers through the glass at her pet. “Thank goodness. I was worried they might have hurt him.”
“Looks like they didn’t make it back here,” I say, glancing around the office, which is untouched compared to the destruction in the main shop.
Sirens wail in the distance, growing louder. I straighten up, rolling my shoulders to release some of the tension.
“The police are almost here,” I tell her, extending my hand. She crosses to me without hesitation, fitting herself against my side, Spike’s terrarium clutched in her free hand. “Let me do most of the talking.”
She nods, her arm sliding around my waist. “Okay.”
The next two hours pass in a blur of police activity.
Officers secure the scene, paramedics treat the injured, and detectives take our statements. I keep Ruby tucked against my side throughout, refusing to let her out of my sight even when the female detective suggests she might want to speak privately. That suggestion earns the detective a firm refusal from Ruby, who grips my shirt tighter and declares she’s not going anywhere without me.
Holloway and his men are loaded into separate police cars, their injuries treated but my zip ties replaced with official handcuffs. I watch with grim satisfaction as Holloway is driven away, finally back in custody where he belongs. The FBI arrives shortly after, taking jurisdiction over the case and confirming that Holloway had escaped their surveillance just hours earlier. They’d been tracking him, but he’d managed to slip away long enough to come after Ruby.
Through it all, Ruby remains strong, answering questions clearly and concisely, never once breaking down despite the trauma she’s experienced. She keeps Spike’s terrarium close, occasionally checking on the lizard as if reassuring herself that at least one part of her world remains undamaged.
The shop door flies open, the bell jingling violently as Marcus and Lainey burst in, their faces tight with worry.
“Ruby!” Lainey rushes forward, stopping short when she sees the destruction—and Ruby tucked against my side. Her eyes widen, darting between us. “Are you okay? We saw the police cars and we came as fast as we could.”
“I’m fine,” Ruby says, straightening but not moving away from me. “Really.”
Marcus surveys the scene, his expression darkening when he spots the blood on the floor. “What the hell happened?”
“Holloway,” I explain briefly. “He came for Ruby himself. He didn’t get her.”
Lainey steps closer, her eyes fixed on the thin red line on Ruby’s throat. “He hurt you.”
“It’s nothing,” Ruby insists, unconsciously leaning back into me. “Clay got here before he could do any real damage.”
Lainey’s gaze shifts to me, assessing. Whatever she sees makes her nod slightly. “Thank you.”
I nod back, a silent understanding passing between us. She cares about Ruby. So do I. That’s all that matters right now.
“The shop,” Marcus says, looking around at the destruction. “Jesus, Ruby.”
“It can be fixed,” Ruby says, her voice stronger now. “It’s just stuff.”
“You’re staying with us tonight,” Lainey declares, reaching for Ruby’s hand. “No arguments.”
Ruby hesitates, her fingers tightening on my shirt. “Actually...”
Lainey’s eyes narrow, darting between us again. Understanding dawns on her face. “Oh.”
“Clay’s place is secure,” Ruby explains, a faint blush coloring her cheeks. “And Holloway’s back in custody, but we don’t know if there are more men out there.”
“She’ll be safe with me,” I add, my arm tightening slightly around her shoulders.
Lainey studies us for a long moment, then a slow smile spreads across her face. “I bet she will.”
Ruby’s blush deepens. “Lainey...”
“What?” Lainey’s smile turns innocent. “I didn’t say anything.”
Her eyes drop to the terrarium in Ruby’s hands. “Do you need me to take Spike for you?”
Ruby shakes her head, clutching the container closer. “No, he’s coming with us. Clay doesn’t mind.”
I nod in confirmation. “The lizard’s welcome. He’s part of the package.”
Marcus clears his throat, looking uncomfortable. “If you need anything, Ruby, just call. Day or night.”
“I will,” Ruby promises. “Thanks for coming to check on me.”
“Of course,” Lainey says, stepping forward to hug Ruby. As she does, she whispers something in Ruby’s ear that makes Ruby’s blush spread down her neck.
“Lainey!” Ruby hisses, but there’s a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth.
Lainey just grins, unrepentant. “Call me tomorrow. With details.”
“We should let you finish up here,” Marcus says, taking Lainey’s arm. “Come on, babe.”
Lainey allows herself to be led away, but not before giving me a pointed look. “Take care of her.”
I nod, respecting her protectiveness. “Always.”
After they leave, Ruby lets out a long breath. “Sorry about that. Lainey can be...”
“Protective,” I finish for her. “Good. You should have people who care about you.”
She looks up at me, something vulnerable in her eyes. “Like you?”
I can’t help but chuckle. “Yeah, sweetheart. Like me. Ready to go?”
She nods, exhaustion evident in the slump of her shoulders. “Where are we going?”
“My place.” I pick up Spike’s terrarium with one hand, keeping my other arm around Ruby’s shoulders. “I’ll carry him to the truck.”.
We walk out to my truck, my arm around her shoulders. The evening air is cool against our skin. Ruby shivers slightly, and I pull her closer.
“Get in,” I say, opening the passenger door for her. “I’ll put Spike in the back seat.”
She slides into the seat while I carefully place the terrarium on the back seat, making sure it’s secure and won’t slide around during the drive. Then I circle around to the driver’s side, scanning the street as I go.
I start the engine and pull away from the curb, one hand on the wheel, the other reaching for Ruby’s. Her fingers intertwine with mine, small and delicate against my scarred knuckles.
“Thank you,” she says quietly, staring out the window at the passing buildings. “For saving me. And Spike.”
“Don’t thank me for that,” I say, squeezing her hand gently. “Ever.”
She turns to look at me, her head tilted slightly. “Why not?”
“Because it’s not something you should have to thank me for.” I keep my eyes on the road, but I can feel her gaze on my profile. “Keeping you safe isn’t a favor, Ruby. It’s a necessity. Like breathing.”
Silence fills the car for a moment, broken only by the soft hum of the engine and an occasional rustle from Spike’s terrarium.
“Why?” she finally asks, her voice barely above a whisper.
I glance at her, taking in the vulnerability in her eyes, the question written across her face. She knows the answer. She just needs to hear me say it.
“Because you’re mine,” I say simply, the words feeling right on my tongue. “Because the thought of anything happening to you makes me want to tear the world apart with my bare hands. Because from the moment I saw you, I knew you were it for me.”
Her breath catches, her fingers tightening around mine. “Clay...”
“I know it’s fast,” I continue, turning onto the road that leads to my cabin outside of town. “I know it doesn’t make sense. I know you like being independent. But this—us—it’s real, Ruby. And I’m not walking away when this is over.”
She’s quiet for so long that I wonder if I’ve pushed too hard, too fast. Then her thumb strokes across my knuckles, a gentle caress that sends electricity up my arm.
“I don’t want you to walk away,” she admits softly. “And that scares me.”
Relief floods through me, so intense it’s almost painful. “Why does it scare you?”
“Because I’ve never needed anyone before.” She stares down at our joined hands. “I’ve spent my whole life proving I don’t need anyone. And then you come along, and suddenly the thought of you not being there makes it hard to breathe.”
I lift our joined hands to my lips, pressing a kiss to her knuckles. “Needing someone doesn’t make you weak, Ruby. It makes you human.”
“Is that what this is?” she asks, her voice small. “Need?”
I pull the truck onto the gravel driveway that leads to my cabin, cutting the engine. The silence that falls is heavy with expectation. I turn to face her fully, taking both her hands in mine.
“This is more than need,” I tell her, my voice rough with emotion I rarely allow myself to show. “This is want. This is choice. This is me looking at you and seeing everything I never knew I was missing. This is love.”
Her eyes shine with unshed tears. “I love you too, Clay. And I don’t know what to do with that”
“You don’t have to do anything with it,” I tell her, reaching up to cup her face in my hands. “Just let me love you back. Let me keep you safe. Let me be yours the way you’re mine.”
A tear spills over, tracking down her cheek. I catch it with my thumb, wiping it away gently. “I can do that,” she says, a small smile breaking through the tears.
I lean forward, pressing my forehead against hers. “Good. Because I’m not giving you up, Ruby Wilson. Not for anything or anyone.”
She closes the distance between us, her lips meeting mine in a kiss that feels like coming home. She tastes like coffee and something uniquely Ruby—something I already know I’ll never get enough of. My hands slide into her hair, holding her to me as I deepen the kiss, claiming her mouth the way I want to claim all of her.
When we break apart, she’s breathless, her lips swollen, her eyes dark with desire. “Take me inside,” she says, her voice husky. “Spike probably needs his heat lamp.”
I smile at her concern for her pet even in this moment. “I’ll get him set up first thing.”
I exit the truck and circle around to her door, opening it and lifting her into my arms in one smooth motion. She laughs, startled, her arms going around my neck.
“I can walk, you know,” she protests, but there’s no real objection in her tone.
“I know,” I say, carrying her up the steps to my cabin. “But I like having you in my arms.”
She rests her head against my shoulder, a soft sigh escaping her. “I like being there.”
“I’ll come back for Spike,” I promise as I push open the door and carry her across the threshold, kicking it closed behind us.
Tomorrow, there will be statements to give, a shop to rebuild, a future to plan. But tonight, in this moment, there’s just Ruby in my arms, safe and whole and mine.
And for the first time in longer than I can remember, I feel like I’ve found something worth protecting for reasons that have nothing to do with duty or obligation.
Just love. Fierce and possessive and undeniably real.
The End