28. Chapter Twenty-Eight Kieran
Chapter Twenty-Eight: Kieran
T he air in the house had shifted.
Not in the way that blood does, thickening the space it stains. Not in the way that silence presses in after violence.
This was different.
Ruby had stopped cleaning, but she was still stuck.
She wouldn’t leave. Wouldn’t go upstairs.
Wouldn’t let herself sit down, either. She stood at the entrance to the kitchen, her back against the counter, her arms crossed so tightly over her chest it looked like she was holding herself together by sheer will alone.
I watched her for a moment longer before turning toward the front door. Right on time. Headlights sliced through the front window as a car pulled up.
A knock—short and sharp. I opened the door to Lorenzo and Mac.
“Hey, boss.”
“Hey, boys,” I said. “Quick and quiet as can be, yeah?”
“Yep,” Lorenzo said. “Got it. Where?”
"On the stairs," I said, stepping aside.
Mac let out a long, exaggerated sigh as he stepped in. "Fucking hate cutting bodies up in houses like this," he muttered. "Too many angles. Too much risk of tracking shit around."
"Yeah, well, do it right and we won’t have to worry about that, will we?" I said.
"Mm." He rolled his shoulders. This was just another night on the job.
Ruby hadn’t moved from the kitchen.
She was staring at them. Not in shock. Not in horror. Just watching. Assessing. Her gaze darted between me and my men, as if she expected that to provide some answers.
Mac looked at me. "You got a tarp or something? Plastic sheeting?"
I shook my head. "No. Work with what you got. I put a sheet on top of him so you wouldn’t have to look at his dumb face."
Mac let out another exaggerated sigh. "Fucking fantastic. We’re gonna have to dismember him, then."
Ruby blinked.
Lorenzo barely reacted, just running a hand over his jaw like he was considering logistics. "Would be easier if we had a chainsaw," he said absently.
Mac perked up. "Oh, yeah. That’d speed things up."
I glanced at them, then at Ruby, who had paled. She was still standing there, staring. “You should go to your room,” I said, then looked at the men again. “What part of a chainsaw is quiet?”
Lorenzo and Mac looked at each other for a second before the latter addressed me. “What do you suggest?”
“An axe,” I said. “Slower work, but less noisy. You have an axe, Rubes?”
She looked…she looked like she wasn’t processing it yet.
Like it had just hit her that the cleanup wasn’t just wiping away blood. That this was real. And then, before I could stop her, she laughed. Not a normal laugh. Not one of those broken, what the fuck is my life kinds of laughs.
No. This one was cold. Sharp. Her eyes were still wide when she looked at Mac and Lorenzo, her voice too calm.
"You need an axe? Just go outside. My ex has one in his shed," she said. “Avail yourself to anything you need for your clean-up. Then put it back as if you hadn’t used it.”
Lorenzo tilted his head, considering her. Mac, the bastard, just grinned.
Mac let out a low whistle. “Damn, boss. I like her.”
I shot him a look, but Ruby wasn’t paying attention to him. She was still staring, still standing there like she hadn’t just offered her soon-to-be ex-husband’s axe like it was a bottle of Windex under the sink.
Fuck, it was sexy as hell.
Lorenzo, ever the professional, just gave a sharp nod. “I’ll grab it.”
Ruby didn’t move as he brushed past her, heading out the back door.
Mac exhaled through his nose, rolling out his shoulders like he was warming up for a workout. He glanced back at me. “You sure you don’t want her upstairs, boss?”
Ruby turned slowly, her gaze cutting. She didn’t look at Mac—she looked at me. “Yeah, boss,” she echoed, voice soaked in venom, exhaustion, and something else she didn’t want to name. “You sure you don’t want me upstairs?”
Her tone was mocking, but it didn’t land the way she wanted it to. Her smile was razor-sharp, but her eyes—flat, cold—held heat just below the surface. Like she was daring me to take control. Like she wanted to know what I’d do if she pushed too hard.
“Oh, so that’s the part that’s too fucked up?” she asked, stepping closer, chin tipped up. “That’s where you draw the line?”
Mac huffed a laugh. “I mean, it’s kinda fucked up.”
“Kind of?” Ruby barked, whirling on him. “There’s a dead man in my house. Do you think you’re gonna be the one fucked up from this? Or me?”
Mac blinked, then shrugged, easy. “Probably you.”
I rubbed a hand over my face, trying not to laugh. Jesus fucking Christ.
“Mac, why are you here? Don’t you have work to do?”
“Yes, boss,” Mac said, walking toward the staircase before turning around. “If you need new flooring, we got a guy.”
“New flooring?” Ruby repeated softly.
Mac shrugged. “Blood’s a bitch to get outta hardwood. Not saying it’s ruined. But, you know. Options.”
Lorenzo came back in, tracking a bit of dirt on the floor, an axe slung over his shoulder. “Got it.”
Ruby’s gaze flickered to it. I expected her to flinch, to pale even more, to turn away, but she didn’t. She just nodded, like she had finally accepted this was happening.
Like she had finally accepted us.
I exhaled through my nose, jerking my chin toward the stairs. “Get it done.”
Mac cracked his knuckles. “Gladly.”
Ruby turned away before they moved toward the body, but I didn’t miss the way her shoulders locked up, the way her breath shuddered out of her.
She was still standing in the kitchen when I walked up behind her, close enough that I could smell the sharp scent of vodka lingering on her skin.
The silence between us stretched out, thick and charged. Finally, she spoke. "It’s done?"
"No. It’ll probably take all night," I said. "I’ll tell you when it’s done."
Her shoulders dropped slightly, but I could tell she wasn’t relieved.
She let out a slow breath, then turned on her heel, heading for the liquor cabinet. I watched as she grabbed the aguardiente and poured herself a drink with hands that only shook slightly. She downed it in one go.
“Jesus, that’s a lot of booze,” I said.
“You want one?”
“Yeah,” I replied.
She handed me the glass she’d just used. I took a drink and let the alcohol settle in the back of my throat. It burned.
She poured herself another drink.
I lifted a brow.
"So, that’s the plan for tonight?"
She didn’t look at me as she poured another. "I don’t have a plan."
I walked over, plucking the glass from her hand before she could take another shot.
Her eyes snapped to mine. "Give that back."
I held it just out of reach. "You need sleep. Not a hangover."
Her jaw clenched. "Don’t start acting like you give a damn about my well-being now."
I huffed a quiet laugh. "You don’t get it, do you?"
She glared. "Get what?"
I leaned in, close enough to see the flicker of something in her eyes that had nothing to do with anger.
"Sweetheart," I said. "I never stop giving a damn about you. I have never stopped giving a damn about you." Her breath caught.
For a second, I thought she might slap me.
For a second, I thought she might kiss me.
She did neither. Instead, she wrenched the glass from my hand and dropped it in the sink.
"Goodnight, Kieran," she said as she turned away.
I smiled to myself. Yeah. This was far from over.
I watched her retreat, the sharp set of her shoulders, the way her spine stayed stiff like she was holding herself together with sheer force of will.
She thought walking away meant she still had control.
She didn’t.
I let her go. For now. When she ran into the staircase, she turned back.
“They’re…working on Russell,” she said, her voice a whisper. She was paler than I’d ever seen her. “I can’t go to my room.”
“I can ask them to move him off the stairs before they dismember his body,” I said.
“I…what? No. I need some air,” Ruby said, softly, and then she opened the sliding doors to go out to her backyard.
“Stay out there for a bit, okay?” I called after her. “Some air might do you good.”
I turned back toward the staircase, where Mac and Lorenzo were already working There was something disturbingly normal about the sound of bones cracking under pressure, of limbs being separated like they were just another job to complete before sunrise.
I wasn’t squeamish. I never had been.
But this was different.
This was her house. Her life.
"She’s handling this well," Mac muttered. "Or, y'know, not at all."
Lorenzo didn’t look up from what he was doing. "She’s in shock."
I exhaled, rubbing a hand over my jaw. No shit.
Mac chuckled. “You sure you’re not gonna have to put her in a hole next?”
I shot him a look so cold he actually had the good sense to shut the fuck up. “Yeah. I’m going to kill the DA. Sounds incredibly clever.”
“I was making a joke.”
“We’re all laughing,” I said quietly.
“Right, right,” he muttered. “Not funny.”
I glanced back down the hall, into the kitchen, where I could just barely hear the sound of a faucet running.
She was washing her hands again.
Over and over and over.
I exhaled through my nose, turning away, listening to the sound of the axe coming down, the wet thunk of it meeting flesh.
This was her world now. Whether she wanted it or not.
And whether she liked it or not, I wasn’t letting her go through it alone.
“Take the body to the backyard,” I said. “Finish there. Leave through the back. Have someone come before dawn to fix the window.”
“Yes, boss,” Lorenzo said. “What are you doing?”
“Taking care of everything else,” I replied.
I didn’t want them to know that what I meant was taking care of her .
I hadn’t heard the water running for a bit. I went back in the kitchen to look for her and couldn’t see her.
The side entrance to the mudroom was open, though. Fuck…if Ruby left…then everyone would really be in a world of shit.
I ran outside, watching as she made her way to her car parked on the street.
She didn’t get far.
Barefoot, her steps faltering, coat thrown over damp skin and blood still drying on her arm like a brand. She moved like she wasn’t in her body—like the adrenaline hadn’t fully worn off but the horror had caught up.
She didn’t see me until she was almost at the car.
Her hand reached for the door.
“Stop,” I said.
Not loud. Not urgent. Just…certain.
She froze.
Didn’t turn. Didn’t breathe. Just froze.
I stepped up behind her, the cold air curling between us. My palm landed on the top of the car next to her hand, caging her in. I didn’t touch her—but I could have. We both knew it.
“Where are you going, Ruby?”
Her voice came thin and tight. “I need air.”
“You’ve had plenty. Try again.”
She tried to pull the door open. I pushed it closed.
Her whole body jerked. Still bloody. Still shaking.
“Look at me,” I said.
She didn’t.
I slid my hand along the edge of the door, slow and deliberate, until my fingers were right beside hers on the handle. So close we were touching.
She flinched.
Good.
“Look at me, Rubes.”
She did.
Blood had dried at her temple, matted in her hair. Her pupils were blown wide, hands trembling from the crash of adrenaline. She was still in shock. She shouldn’t have been upright.
But she was Ruby fucking Marquez.
“You’re in no condition to drive,” I said, low. “You’re covered in blood. You’re barefoot. You’re not thinking straight.”
“I have to—I have to get out of here. This is—this is—”
“Handled,” I said.
She blinked. “You can’t just decide that.”
“I already did.”
I watched her throat work. She was trembling so hard now her teeth chattered, and I knew it wasn’t just the cold. It was everything. The fear. The aftermath.
Me.
“Kieran—”
“You want the truth?” I asked, my voice cutting through the dark. “You weren’t walking away. I was going to stop you no matter what.”
Her breath caught.
I stepped closer, chest brushing her back now. “If I had to throw you over my shoulder and drag you inside, I would have. You don’t get to run from this. From me. Not tonight.”
“I never asked you to do this.”
“Doesn’t matter,” I murmured. “You needed me to.”
Silence stretched long and hot between us.
Then she whispered, “I don’t want to need you.”
I sucked in a breath…my hand found her hip. Her gasp got stuck in her throat and her eyes fluttered shut, and she was so fucking sexy covered in blood and needing me that I—
Headlights flashed once across her face.
A dark SUV, parked halfway down the block, idling. No movement inside. No doors opening. Just watching.
My stomach tightened.
Ruby turned, following my gaze, her body locking up the second she spotted it.
"Who is that?" she whispered.
I didn’t have an answer.
I watched the SUV, waiting for something—for a window to roll down, for a gun barrel to peek out, for anything that would tell me if we were dealing with another gang, a loose end, a new problem.
But instead, the car just…pulled away.
Like they had seen exactly what they came to see.
And Ruby?
She was still staring after it, her face pale in the glow of the streetlights.
“Probably some kids doing drugs. I wouldn’t worry too much about them,” I said. “Come on. Let’s go back inside.”
I heard her swallow. “I guess you’re the expert.”
I was the expert.
And I hoped like hell I was right.