16. Samuel
Ruby is obviously mad at me, which I can’t understand. I did nothing wrong. I was goddamn nice to her even after she snuck out, got drunk, and got me so riled up that I had to put my hands on her. If anything, I should be the one with the right to be mad.
I could have gladly ignored all of this, could have acted like last night was just a shared fragment of imagination, but she had to bring it up. And now that I, very politely, told her what I did, she leaves me standing down here like I read something into all of this.
This whole situation reaches a new degree of stupidity every day.
Somehow, I feel like I brought home a problematic one-night stand, with the slight difference that I didn’t even fuck her. And that neither she nor I can leave this house, and this situation, for the time being.
A lose-lose situation, really.
Good, the too-old excuse wasn’t the best one, but what was the other option?
It’s not like I can say: Look, Ruby, I want to fuck you. I really do. Hell, I want to fuck you on every surface this house, this entire world has to offer, but I can’t because I’m not even a real bodyguard. No, I’m here for a fucking mission that will probably end with me putting a bullet in your father’s head, and I don’t know if you would want to fuck me after that.
From what I’ve seen of the relationship between Ruby and her dad so far, I’m not entirely sure if me killing him would be a problem for her, but it doesn’t matter. Telling her all of this it’s not an alternative. It’s also just my dick getting the best of me.
The last time I slept with someone was more than a year ago, with I-don’t-want-to-think-about-her, so of course my body reacts this way if I’m locked in a house with an, admittedly, hot Ruby who tries every trick in the book to seduce me.
Physical attraction, horribly strong, but nothing more than that.
Being with Ruby isn’t good for me. I know this because my body yearns for everything that will destroy me in the long run.
With a slight panic washing over me, I think back to the mozzarella sticks in the oven. Not my first choice of dinner for tonight, but it’s probably a bad idea to ask Ruby if she’s going to cook.
The sticks kind of exploded in the oven; cheese pools around the breading and I take them out before they begin to burn. I put the cheese massacre on a plate and decide to eat outside in the garden.
Ruby won’t try to run off, and if she does, she won’t get far. After she was out cold last night, I came back to her room. God knows why.
I stared at her, contemplating if I should stay with her, just for that one night, and just because—but then I realized that this idea was more than bad, so instead, I got a hold of her phone to install a tracker. Just in case she tries to run off again.
I had to move her head to unlock her phone, and she snuggled against my hand. She’s way too adorable when she sleeps and I felt horrible when I pulled my hand away.
And yes, I know that this was an invasion of her privacy, but she also came to my room at night like a creep, so we’re quits now. Looking through her contacts and her messages wasn’t necessary to install the tracker, but my curiosity got the best of me.
Scrolling through all of her contacts would have taken me at least twenty minutes, but then I looked at her messages. And those were the exact opposite. Only two names showed up, Dominic’s being one of them.
I wonder if Ruby’s dad knows that one of his employees helps his daughter sneak out. And another contact, a Sarah who didn’t reply to Ruby’s messages for what seemed like weeks at least.
Her call history was basically the same. She only called someone named Richard a day before we went to the mall, and apart from that, it was mostly empty.
Ruby stirred in her bed and I took that as a sign to stop snooping around, installed the tracking software and put the phone back where I found it before I snuck out of the room.
The sun goes down as I walk out to the patio, golden light reflecting in the pool. It’s really beautiful, but it doesn’t distract me from the chaos in my head.
Just as I begin to eat, myphone vibrates. Because of all that childish drama, I forgot Max told me that Rockwell wants updates today.
It’s beenover twenty-four hours since I last spoke to Ruby. It’s obvious that she’s avoiding me. A few days ago, I would have been happy about that. I don’t want to deal with her heartbroken attitude until I can leave. Soon. Despite that, not having her around affects me more than I want to admit.
Something about this whole ordeal rips open wounds it was supposed to heal. It makes me think back to the last woman who looked at me with a smile I couldn’t resist.
The same one that a year and a half later insisted on coming to the cemetery with me to meet my mom.
And also the same one that took the one remaining piece of my heart, ripped it out, and put a knife through it before she walked away.
There are reasons I don’t want a woman in my life, or anything resembling a relationship, or a short hookup. I can’t make an exception for this, not even for Ruby.
I just have to convince my dick, and my subconsciousness, about that. When Ruby finally comes out of her room for a few minutes, I have to suppress the urge to shove her against the wall and kiss her instead of having a pointless ten-word talk about how the weather was nice today.
Everywhere I go in this house, I smell her perfume, which is surprising, because the only rooms she really uses are hers, the kitchen and the living room. Still, my dick twitches every time I catch a whiff of her.
It drives me crazy and my tried and trusted solution of drowning my problems in booze isn’t working. I would call Max, but when I talked to Rockwell last evening, he told me he and the guys are on a mission for the next few days. Mexico again, and it’s better that they are going without me.
When I wake up the next morning with a half-empty bottle of whiskey lying next to me in bed, I come to the conclusion that I need to try a different approach. I look horrible, even worse than when I arrived here and I can’t let this situation affect me so much any longer.
Drinking isn’t working to get her out of my system, so maybe working out will help. And if it doesn’t, my body is going to thank me either way. So I make my way over to the gym, lifting weights until my muscles hurt. It’s a good pain, one that I can deal with.
It doesn’t help to get Ruby out of my head, though. She already made herself a nice, cozy home in there.
I don’t need a workout; I need a lobotomy. I could give Ruby my prefrontal cortex in a pretty cardboard box.
When I walk out of the gym and into the living room, it feels like walking into a sauna. The entire house is air-conditioned, but I forgot to close the patio doors in the early hours of the morning, so it heated up a bit.
My body feels close to either melting or succumbing to a heatstroke, so I rush upstairs to change into swim shorts and a loose-fitting shirt. It’s not that late, around 11am, so maybe, if I’m lucky, Ruby is still asleep and if she’s still pissed, she won’t come out of her room either way. And I could really use a cool down at the pool.
I am aware of my mistake as I walk out onto the patio. Why was I so dumb to think that I would have the pool to myself? And the even bigger question is: Why am I not turning around and walking back inside upon seeing Ruby there on a lounger?
Only God knows, and God is probably clasping his hands together in front of his face right in that second as I walk over to her. Ruby looks at me, sunglasses resting on the bridge of her nose as she, not very subtly, lets her eyes wander over my body, down to the cigarette in my hand, and back up to my face.
To my face that she can see.
She seems to realize that in the same second as me, her eyes widening as she tips over her glass of water while scrambling to sit up straight. Water runs over the patio, slowly seeping into the grout where it already dries by the time she gets her voice back.
Some part of me had hoped that the silent treatment from her would continue.
“Where’s your mask?”
I ignore her question as I put my towel on the lounger next to her.
“Sorry, that sounds like I think you’re ugly,” she says with a laugh. “I was just surprised. Why are you always wearing that thing?”
“Old habit,” I say, taking a deep drag from my cigarette. Ruby orders them for me, together with the groceries, knowing my brand after seeing me smoke one time. She’s so attentive, it’s horrible.
The smell of her coconut tanning oil or whatever it is invades my nose and I wonder how it would feel to run my hands over her body right now.
It’s going great.
“Well, I don’t mind it. It’s kinda hot.”
“You’re a weird one.”
“Would you mind wearing it while we, you know—,” she asks with a grin on her face, wiggling her eyebrows.
“No, and also not relevant. We’re not going to, you know,” I say, a grin dancing over my lips. I don’t know why, but I missed our little banter.
“We’ll see,” Ruby mumbles and I gave up on arguing about that with her around a week ago.
“Why do you work as a bodyguard?” She suddenly asks. “I mean, I saw your dog tags. Why aren’t you in the army anymore? Did they kick you out or anything?”
She reaches out to me with her little grabby hands, but thankfully just to get a hold of the cigarette package. Usually, I would tell her to fuck off or at least ask for one like a decent human being with manners, but since she, or well, her dad, is the one paying for them, I let it slide.
Apart from that, it also gives me a second to think about my answer. I expected this topic to come up eventually, especially after the bracelet situation made it obvious that she had seen the dog tags.
“I work as a mercenary. That’s all you need to know.” I flick on my lighter to light her cigarette, and she leans closer, looking up at me.
“A mercenary, interesting.” Her eyebrows are raised as she sits up, and I just learned that there is apparently a way to seductively smoke a cigarette. Or maybe that’s just Ruby, who knows.
“New book?” I ask to switch the topic, gesturing to the stuff on her lounger. She nods and smiles at me.
“You like to read?”
“Don’t have time for that,” I reply.
My mom loved to read. I still have boxes full of her books standing in a storage unit in Phoenix. My brother wanted to get rid of them after she died, said that she doesn’t need them anymore, but I couldn’t bring myself to give even one away. They were the only luxury she allowed herself. One day, I’ll have the time to read them.
“Well, if that ever changes, let me know,” Ruby says, as if she’s already planning to spend the next few months with me. “We could start a little book club, just the two of us.”
A few moments later, she hands me her half-smoked cigarette, like I’m her personal assistant, or ashtray, before she gets up and walks towards the pool. Slowly, she lowers her body into the water, her arms propped on the edge while she rests her head on them.
Mindlessly, I take a drag from her cigarette. There’s a faint taste of cherry lingering on it, and I wonder if her lips taste the same.
“It’s really funny, you know.” Her voice snatches me out of my thoughts. “The first bodyguard my father hired was just some guy who wanted to earn a bit of extra money.” She leans back to get her hair wet, slicking it back before she resumes to her previous position, watching me from the pool.
“And look where we are now. Seems like I’m a really dangerous person if it takes a mercenary to keep me in check.”
“You are dangerous,” I mutter under my breath.
She really is. Not in the common sense, like a knife or a predator would be. More like a virus. Like a bite from an animal that has rabies and you don’t realize the danger until it’s too late.
Max had a rabies scare once. We were on a mission in Belarus when he tried to pet a raccoon and it bit him. Goddamn idiot. I don’t think I ever witnessed someone having such a hysterical outbreak before.
“Come over here, the pool is big enough for the both of us,” Ruby says with a laugh while I feel bad for comparing her to a deadly disease. She splashes water in my direction and suddenly I don’t feel that bad about it anymore.
“You really think I’m going to get in there while you’re around?” I groan as I get up. The floor is uncomfortably hot as I sit down at the edge of the pool, dipping my legs into the cool water. “I know you’re going to turn into a misbehaved dog as soon as I pull my shirt off, and I don’t have a stick to keep you at a distance.”
“Actually, you do have a stick.”
“See, bad dog.” I roll my eyes at her. I think I adopted that habit from her and I’m not happy about the fact that she’s turning me into some kind of sassy monster.
“You wanna put me on a leash?” She grins at me, and I can’t even blame her. I’m equally responsible for this bullshit.
“It would definitely suit you.”
As if I hadn’t thought about how perfect she would look with my belt around her neck, forced to crawl to me while she begs for my cock like a good girl.
“Come on in, I swear I’ll behave,” she says, batting her eyelashes at me.
“Stop lying. I’m surprised that you even know that word.”
“And what if I suddenly feel really weak? You can’t let me drown. My father would kill you if I died just because you refused to help me.”
She’s acting as if she’s close to fainting, and I take the opportunity to splash water in her direction. Now she’s coughing as if she’s really close to dying. Overdramatic little thing.
“Dipshit,” I grumble as I pull off my shirt and get into the pool, not wanting to give her too much time to ogle me. “You better keep your distance or I’ll be the reason you drown in this pool.”
For a second, we’re just eying each other like two gladiators in an arena before Ruby breaks the tension by climbing on one of the inflatable loungers that float around in the pool. She looks like she wants to audition for the role of the little mermaid with how she’s lying on that giant seashell.
Unfortunately, she also looks smoking hot in that tiny bikini. I wonder where they sell those skimpy little things and if they cost less because they use up less fabric. Probably the opposite.
Anyway, they shouldn’t exist, at least not on Ruby, because now I have to readjust my swim shorts that get too tight while I watch her get comfortable.
“So, I get that you’re not one to talk about yourself a lot. You wanna know anything about me? Or did my father tell you all the horrible things about me when he hired you?”
“I already know enough about you. So, no, thank you. Not interested,” I say, struggling to keep up my act.
“Ouch.” She laughs at my words and I fear she thinks insults are my love language. Well, maybe they fucking are.
“Not even one little question? Nothing you want to know about me?”
I guess being goddamn annoying is her love language.
“No,” I insist, reaching for my cigarette pack to light up another one. She’s terrible for my health, mental and physical.
Ruby turns around on the inflatable, her ass on full display for me. Water droplets run down her body, down the curve of her lower back until they pool on the clear plastic. Makes me want to lick every single drop off of her body.
Or grab that pretty ass. I just have to wait, eventually she’ll give me a reason to color that perfect cheeks red again.
She giggles, and I’m almost convinced she can read my thoughts. It sure seems like it with the way she arches her back even more.
“Your father should pay me compensation to put up with you,” I say, adjusting my swim shorts. Again.
“Isn’t it tiring?” She suddenly asks, turning her head around to face me.
“What?”
“Trying to act like you can’t stand me.”