Chapter 10: Jack

Ruth isn't looking so good as I begin making preparations. I check all my weapons and ammo. Then I check all the windows and door locks to make sure the cabin is secured. While I work, Ruth loads another log into the wood stove. She appears to be ignoring me, trying to keep busy, but I know better. I'm sure her mind is racing as she tries to make sense out of what's happening.

"I'm sorry," I say.

She closes the stove door and straightens, her hands going to her hips. "You fucked me knowing this could happen."

Damn. She doesn't pull her punches. "Yeah, I did. I won't apologize for having sex with you, but I am sorry for the rest. The last thing I wanted to do was put you in harm's way."

"And yet, that's exactly what you did." She meets my gaze head-on, unflinching. She doesn't mince words, and I respect that. "I have to leave in an hour," she says, "to open the tavern."

I shake my head. "You're not going to work today, not until this is over."

"I have to. It's my bar."

"Ask Tom to handle things for you."

"No! I'm not putting my employees at risk. It's not just Tom, but it's the servers, too, and the kitchen staff. Not to mention my customers. My friends."

"I'll call in backup and get some people in your tavern to keep an eye on things."

We both hear it at the same time—the sound of wheels on her gravel drive. I reach behind me for my Glock and check that it's loaded. I also grab my KA-BAR and slip the blade into the sheath strapped to my thigh.

Ruth eyes the gun in my hands. "Stand down, Rambo. It's probably just my brother."

"Maybe," I say as I head to the front window. "But I'm not taking any chances."

She follows me, and we both peer outside as a black SUV stops at the top of the drive, with only its front fender visible. The vehicle is mostly hidden from sight by the trees. Its engine shuts off.

Fuck. "Do you recognize that vehicle?"

"No." Her voice is little more than a whisper. "And none of my friends would stop there. They'd drive up to the cabin."

I figure as much. "Stay back and out of sight, no matter what happens. If I'm not back in ten minutes, call the sheriff. Now, is there another way out of this cabin?"

She points to a door to the right of the kitchen. "You can get out through the laundry room."

"Remember, stay out of sight." I take a step away, then pause to look back at her. "Do you have a gun?"

She nods. "I have two 9mm handguns and a shotgun."

"Get the shotgun. If anyone you don't recognize tries to get inside, shoot him." I don't think it's a coincidence that Micah tells me there's a mobster in town asking questions, and now a stranger shows up at Ruth's house.

Once I'm outside, I move quickly and quietly along the rear of the cabin, then I dart across the yard and into the woods. Using the trees as cover, I make my way toward the lane.

Normally, I'm cool under pressure, but this time, it's not just my safety that's at stake. It's Ruth's. And I'm not going to let these motherfuckers hurt her.

I move through the trees, keeping low as I approach the drive. I'm a bit downhill from the SUV, which gives me an advantage because the intruder is undoubtedly focused on the cabin, looking either for me or for Ruth. I wouldn't put it past these assholes to target her instead of coming at me head-on.

I slip through the trees, silent as air, and come up behind the SUV. The perp is standing outside the vehicle, a rifle trained on the cabin as if he's just waiting for a target. He's dressed head to toe in black, his face covered as well. I can see the Yevgeny organization's signature tattoos covering his neck. He might as well be sporting a neon sign.

The guy's phone vibrates, and he thumbs the screen. "Da?"

I listen as he speaks Russian to someone on the line. "YA nashel yego." I found him. "On s zhenshchinoy." He's with a woman. A moment later, the guy says, "Konechno, ya ub"yu ikh oboikh." Sure, I'll kill them both.

That's good enough for me.

This needs to be quick and quiet. I tuck my Glock back into my holster and pull out my KA-BAR. Silently, I sneak up behind him as he peers through his rifle's scope. He's so focused on finding a target, he doesn't hear me. A heartbeat later, I'm on him, slicing clean through his carotid. He drops to the ground like a stone, blood gurgling in his throat.

Not a shot fired.

After ensuring he's no longer a threat, I drag him to the back of his vehicle and deposit him inside. I dig through his pockets and locate his phone and his wallet. He has a New York driver's license. I unlock his phone using his own face, then remove the security settings to keep it unlocked so I can go through it later.

After driving the SUV through the clearing and parking it beside the barn, I walk up to the cabin's front door. "Ruth, it's me!" I hope she's not trigger-happy. "You can stand down now."

The front door opens and Ruth peers outside, her gaze sweeping the clearing in front of her home, eyes sharp and assessing. "Where is he?"

"He's in the back of his SUV."

"Is he—"

"Dead? Yes."

"Are you sure—"

"Am I sure he's dead? Yes."

"No, I meant are you sure he's with the mafia? That he came here to kill you?"

I pull a black leather wallet from my jacket pocket and flash her the New York state driver's license. "He's one of Yevgeny's men. I heard him talking to them on the phone—in Russian. His handlers told him to kill both of us. So, yes, I'm sure." I nod toward the barn. "I'll park the SUV in the barn until I can dispose of it."

Ruth pales as she stares at me. "Shouldn't we call the sheriff's office?"

"And tell them what? That I just slit the throat of a tourist from the Big Apple?" I shake my head. "No, thanks."

"You said he was a scout. Are you implying there will be more?"

A harsh laugh escapes me. "More? You can count on it. Plenty more, including Yevgeny himself. Or at least I hope so. This ends with him." I watch the blood drain from Ruth's face as this news sinks in. "This isn't over. Far from it. We're just getting started."

"I've got to warn the others," she says. "My brother, my employees. I need to warn Chris and my friends."

"Chris is the sheriff?"

She nods and pulls out her phone.

I lay a hand on it, stopping her from making the call. "You can't get anyone else involved—that will only put their lives at risk. Ruth, you need to leave town until this is resolved. Is there somewhere you can go? Somewhere you'll be safe?"

She shakes her head. "I'm not leaving my family and friends to deal with this."

"It's not safe—"

"If it's not safe for me, it's not safe for them either. I'm staying."

I'm so frustrated I could—oh, hell, I don't know what I could do. It's not like I can give her an ultimatum. It wouldn't work. Ruth's not going to budge, and I won't force her. I probably couldn't even if I tried. I've never met such a strong-willed woman in my life. "Look, I'll make some calls and get us some help," I tell her. "In the meanwhile, let's move this SUV into the barn to get it out of sight."

Ruth follows me outside and slides open the wide barn door so I can drive the vehicle inside. After stepping out of the SUV, I pull a small, high-powered flashlight out of my pocket and get down on my knees so I can scan the underside of the carriage.

"What are you looking for?" she asks, following me as I make my way around the vehicle.

"A tracker." I finally locate one in the rear left wheel well. "Damn it." I pull it off, drop it on the ground, and crush it with my bootheel. Of course, it's too little, too late. Yevgeny already knows the last known location of the vehicle. It's only a matter of time before his men show up here.

I pop the rear door to deal with the body lying in the back. "Can I use this?" I ask, pointing at a blue plastic tarp lying on the ground.

Ruth shrugs. "Sure."

"Have you got a spare rope?" I ask.

"I'll find one." She returns a moment later with a nylon rope, which I use to secure the tarp around the body.

"Have you seen a lot of dead bodies?" I ask.

"This would be my first." Remarkably, she maintains her composure as her gaze locks on the body as I close the rear hatch door. "We can't just leave him here. The body—"

"Don't worry. It'll be gone by tonight."

"Gone where?"

"Somewhere suitable. It's best you don't know."

Ruth shakes her head. "I can't believe we're having this discussion."

"Welcome to my world. Well, my previous world."

"And then what?" she asks. "Who will come after you next?"

I shrug. It's a good question—one I've been trying to answer myself. "You probably don't want to know."

* * *

After closing up the barn, we return to the cabin. Ruth disappears into her bedroom, where she remains until around two that afternoon. When she finally comes out of hiding, she's dressed in a pair of worn blue jeans and a red flannel plaid shirt over a white tank top. Her hair is neatly braided, and she's wearing feather earrings and a turquoise necklace. Damn. She's stunning.

"Where do you think you're going?" I ask, although I'm pretty sure I already know the answer.

"To work." She grabs her wallet and keys off the kitchen counter.

I step in front of her, cutting her off. "Ruth, no. You can't. Ask Tom to take over for you."

"I told you, I'm not going to hide out here while my employees might be in harm's way." She reaches around to pat the small of her back, where undoubtedly she's carrying a handgun. "I won't be without protection."

I have to fight the urge to roll my eyes. One woman pitted against mobsters who won't hesitate to gun her down.

"That's right," I say. "You won't be without protection because I'm coming with you." When she looks like she's about to argue with me, I cut her off. "It's not up for discussion. I'm coming."