Chapter 19: Ruger

Chapter Nineteen

Ruger

I have to wait several days for Tamiya to call me back. I demand text message reports daily, but I don’t think pushing her will work. How hard can it be to get information about a woman named Zayna from Boston? She must be the only one. I’ve never heard the name Zayna before.

Eden bonds to her instantly, which Zayna finds strange. I don’t. From the first time I held her, I sensed deep down she needed a woman. I watch every interaction they have and by their third day together, Eden smiles when she looks at Zayna’s face and her expression gets confused and brooding when Zayna looks away.

My daughter.

Her cheeks have more pink in them each day and the routine I get into with Zayna gives us time to learn how the other works. Zayna seems to understand me completely. I find her a mystery. Each morning, she wakes up first and asks if I want coffee in bed.

What type of crazy ass man would say “no” to that? I let her get out of bed and check on the baby — and I check on her via the baby monitor Tanner made me get — then when she leaves the room, I listen to her walk into the kitchen. She sings some song I don’t recognize while she makes the coffee. It’s pretty good too.

We don’t mention what she asked me that night and frankly, I’m grateful. I want to know more about her. Zayna artfully dodges most of my questions, but I’ll get the information I want… eventually.

Just watching her is a good enough distraction. I haven’t tried to put my tongue between her legs again. Can’t tell if she’s disappointed or grateful. I like watching her. Reminds me that I still have a hunting instinct and it keeps my mind off the bloody carnage I got up to at Oske’s trailer.

Keeping an eye on Zayna and Eden keeps my mind off meth. I never considered myself addicted to the stuff but… if I have too much time on my hands, it becomes a habit. A bad habit. Worst thing I ever did was end up in Canada after a meth binge with a fresh tattoo on my ass and my wallet $15,000 lighter. Ethan Shaw makes a terrible gambling partner. That motherfucker is cursed.

Nope. No need for meth when I have Zayna’s sexy ass to get a high from all damn day. Even in sweatpants, she just has an incredible body. It’s so hot… like something unnatural. Except… she is natural. I put my hands all over her and I know it.

Several days of keeping my hands off her and trying to remind her that I’m not a killer might be going well. I haven’t done anything creepy. I stayed away from meth. Even when I sleep, I don’t put my hands on her. I don’t even cuddle her, even if it’s tempting. Zayna doesn’t seem to be warming up to me.

She calls me a “hillbilly” one time under her breath when she thinks I can’t hear her. I don’t even know what I did wrong. She never explains… just like Tamiya. I at least wish Zayna would hit me instead of cutting me those dirty looks. It makes me nervous about her getting me coffee.

But just when I get too nervous, the next morning when Zayna wakes up and offers to make me coffee, I’m about to reject her when Tamiya texts me.

Tamiya: Got information. Call me.

“Sure, Zayna,” I say, making steady eye contact with her, even if it makes my dick twitch and could potentially lead to me staying semi-hard all morning. “Coffee. My sister-in-law wants to call.”

“Okay.”

I don’t know why I feel the urge to make an excuse.

“She needs parenting advice.”

It’s the dumbest lie. Zayna bites down on her lower lip to stop herself from saying something and she leaves the room. I hear Zeus bark twice and follow her into the kitchen. I swear Zeus likes her more than me now. She must be slipping him treats when she cooks. I didn’t ask her to do that but one night of my delicious ground venison sloppy joe, and Zayna insisted on cooking.

She also gives me this list of mysterious items I need, which I’ll handle after this call with Tamiya. What the fuck is paprika?

Within seconds of me responding to Tamiya, she calls.

“Good morning, Tamiya.”

“Don’t kiss my ass.”

All I said was good morning… but I don’t argue with her. I have been desperately waiting for information about Zayna and I don’t want to cause any problems with Tamiya, lest she make this more difficult for me.

“Okay.”

“How is she? How is Eden?”

“They’re both fine. Getting along well.”

“I don’t hear muffled screaming in the background,” Tamiya says. “So for now, I’ll give you the benefit of the doubt.”

I know Gideon is in the background listening. He doesn’t like his women talking to men on the phone without supervision. Always had that jealous streak to him after the whole Tylee situation that happened all those years back.

“What did you find?”

Tamiya can’t tell I’m nervous, but the emotions are overwhelming. I felt nothing as I dug all those holes for Darlene’s body parts. I told myself that was work. Nothing worse than what I saw during my tour of duty. Bodies getting blown up by IEDs, severed limbs arcing through the air, and our own brothers getting shot right between the eyes, causing brain matter to splatter everywhere.

Hearing something I don’t like about Zayna would be… impossible.

“Do you know how she got to Vegas?”

“No.”

“Okay. It looks like she was picked up in a similar scheme to Vickie, the girl living with Owen Shaw.”

I don’t have all the details, but I assume she’s from the same batch of women Tanner and Quin had gone to pick up before they met me at the trailer. So Zayna came from the same place as Owen’s girl…

“What sort of scheme?”

“Romance scam turned financial. When she got to Vegas, the man working with Hakeem took everything from her and forced her to work at… a sketchy club out there.”

Hakeem was the man in charge of all the bullshit going down in Las Vegas. Now that he’s dead, the club has been trying to make his businesses profitable again. Once they got the slot machines working, they were able to pay off his debts within a month.

My stomach turns. She was a hooker? My tongue feels dry. I have to suppress the dark urge to go out there without thinking and demand knowledge of every man who ever touched her. The jealousy forms a bitter knot in the base of my stomach.

A vision flashes before me. A knife pressed against Darlene’s neck. Spit flying out of my mouth as I call her a hundred names.

All I ask is loyalty. Fidelity... I know logically Zayna isn’t mine and something that happened before me isn’t her fault but just the thought of another man touching her brings up a whole new kind of sickness in me. My thoughts must be loud, even if I say nothing.

“Ruger?” Tamiya says. “You are too quiet over there…”

Tamiya, noisier than a boiling kettle, naturally hates contemplative silence. But how the hell does she expect me to find out who I need to kill?

“Her job at the club?” My voice stays casual despite the burning in my stomach that works its way up my chest like taking a shot of strong whiskey in reverse.

“Just a bottle girl,” Tamiya says. “She wasn’t there long. That’s the part we need to have a serious talk about. What happened before…”

Zayna. Romance scam. Financial scam. She doesn’t seem like the type to fall for a scam. She seems sharp. Maybe a little too sharp… I don’t know.

“Okay. What happened?”

“She was involved in one of the biggest sexual assault cases in Massachussetts.”

“Zayna?”

Tamiya’s energy shifts. Her voice gets heavy and I question if I should listen to this.

“Her students broke into her apartment, raped her and filmed it.”

“I have to go.”

“Ruger, NO!” Tamiya says, using the tone I use to talk to Zeus. I was in the Army. That shit works on me like a charm. My back stiffens up unconsciously in bed. Adrenaline rushes through me. At the news. Tamiya’s stiff command. All the emotions and desires rushing through me.

Tamiya continues, exhaling impatiently so I know she is totally done with my ass, “Cops came. They went to court and everything but… they were prep school kids. The judge was related to Brooks Astor and they got off with probation and apology letters.”

“She left Massachusetts?”

“She spiraled. Left Massachusetts and right before Vegas, it looks like she was living with her parents.”

“Okay.” That doesn’t sound bad. So why does Tamiya sound like she’s holding something back?

“Is that all?”

“No,” Tamiya says. “But I don’t know if I should tell you this.”

“Don’t play games. She could come back with my coffee any minute.”

Logically, I know she must have let Zeus outside to take a piss too. But I want Tamiya to get on with it.

“Promise you won’t overreact?”

“I won’t.”

“I’m not the only one looking into her,” Tamiya says. “I found someone else investigating and… I don’t know what Zayna wants.”

What Zayna wants? Tamiya had better spill.

“Tamiya. I swear… I’ve done some bad things but… I’ve taken time to reflect and?—

“Don’t bullshit me, Ruger. You murdered your ex-wife less than two weeks ago.”

Tamiya is the type to never let shit go.

“Okay,” I say. “You’re the boss.”

That type of manipulation works incredibly on Tamiya.

“It’s her ex-boyfriend. And… it looks like he has plenty of resources to track her down eventually.”

Ex-boyfriend.

I don’t know how to take this news. Tamiya waits for my response, but I have nothing to say. I just hang up. My problems are right here in this house — not on the phone. I’m not rude. I text Tamiya once I hang up.

Ruger: Thanks.