Chapter 18: Ruth

The woods around my cabin are suddenly quiet. The fighting has stopped. The only sound I hear is my own breathing, which is loud and raspy to my own ears.

Lenny shoves me forward, tipping me off balance, and I nearly fall face first, but he catches me and hauls me back up to my feet. He wraps one arm securely around my waist, holding me against him, and points his gun at my temple.

Well, I think we know who the mole is now.

Jack emerges from the woods across the clearing, his empty hands in the air. His dark gaze is locked on me. "Don't hurt her, Lenny." His voice is surprisingly quiet, the words deadly. "Don't give me a reason to end you."

"Get over here," Lenny shouts. "Put your hands on your head and turn around, slowly."

Jack does exactly as Lenny instructs.

"Lenny, please don't do this," I say, my voice breaking.

"Get up here!" Lenny yells.

Jack walks toward the porch, his steps slow and deliberate.

Tears prickle my eyes when I realize what's happening. Lenny's going to make Jack surrender to these mobsters. My gaze locks onto Jack, whose face is expressionless. I shake my head. "Jack, don't! Please, don't." He can't just give himself up, not on my account. He can't just lie down and let them murder him in cold blood.

Jack gazes back at me, but says nothing. When he reaches the porch steps, he takes them one at a time, slowly ascending until he's right in front of me. He looks me in the eye, utterly calm, which makes my blood run cold.

He's going to do this! He's going to let them take him.

"It's going to be okay, Ruth," Jack says quietly.

"That's a bit premature, don't you think?" Lenny asks, his voice snide and hateful.

"Get the gun off her, Len," Jack says in a steady voice. "Point it at me."

"Don't tell me what to do!" Lenny snaps. "You think you're so fucking high and mighty. The perfect Jack Merchant, the Merchant of Death. Well, now who's in charge?"

"You are, Lenny," Jack says. "You've got the gun. You're in charge. Now, let Ruth go. You don't need her anymore. You have me."

A shrill whistle rends the air, causing Lenny to flinch, and in a flash of movement too fast for me to follow, Jack grabs Lenny's gun hand, twists it hard enough to snap bone, and wrenches the gun free. Jack fires the gun into Lenny's skull, dropping him on the spot.

"Not so fast, Merchant!" a deep voice growls. This one heavily accented. "Drop your weapon."

I glance past Jack to see several strangers pointing their guns right at us.

Jack looks me in the eye. "I need you to trust me," he says. "I won't let them hurt you." Then he tosses the gun he took from Lenny into the grass below us.

"Now turn around and face me," the big man says. "Slowly. If you reach for a weapon, you and the woman die."

Jack turns to face Yuri, positioning himself squarely in front of me. "Stay behind me," he says tersely.

"You've been very difficult to pin down, Jack Merchant," the man says. He's tall, at least six feet, and built like a Mack truck. He's wearing a black overcoat, a black suit underneath.

"You must be Yuri," Jack says.

The big man nods. "Da."

"You know," Jack says, "the irony of this is that I was never coming after you. It was Antonin who had to go. Not you."

"Not yet, you mean," Yuri says. "It was only a matter of time before your rifle was pointed at my head." Yuri laughs. "Now there are half a dozen guns pointed at your head."

Yuri points his gun right at Jack's head. "Where are the others? Call them out."

Jack just stands there, saying nothing.

"There were five of you in all, but now poor Lenny is dead, so there's only four left. You plus three others." Yuri glances around the clearing. "Come out, death squad, all of you, or I'll put a bullet in your friend's brain."

My heart sinks when I see Diego step out of the woods, his empty hands on top of his head. Oh, God, no. They can't just give up.

"Come on!" Yuri yells. "I'm not a patient man. Two more!"

Aleksa shows himself, stepping out from behind the barn. His hands are on his head, too.

"Better," Yuri says. "One more."

Mike is the only one who hasn't shown himself. Mike, who's up in the sniper's nest. He has a clear shot at everyone in the clearing. A clear shot at Yuri.

"I'm losing my patience!" Yuri growls. "I want the last one out here, now, or I start shooting. As soon as Merchant falls, then the woman is next."

Mike, shoot him. Do it!

When I hear a movement coming from behind me in the cabin, I glance back to see Micah standing in the open doorway, his empty hands at his sides. "Micah, no!"

Jack tightens his grip on me.

"I'm here," Micah says loudly, his voice carrying as he steps out onto the porch.

My heart is ripping to shreds as the sound of rushing blood fills my ears.

It wasn't supposed to happen this way.

Jack turns to me, his hands cupping my face. "It's okay, Ruth," he says.

My voice breaks. "How can you say that?"

Jack flashes Micah a quick look before he turns to face Yuri.

"Get down here," Yuri tells Jack. "On your knees in front of me."

As Jack takes a step forward, a single shot rings out, shattering the stillness. Almost in slow motion, blood spurts from the side of Yuri's head and he drops to his knees before he falls back, his head hitting the ground. His cold, lifeless eyes stare up at the night sky.

Jack throws me down onto the porch boards and covers me with his body. Micah draws a 9mm from his back waistband and starts firing. Gunfire erupts all throughout the yard, accompanied by shouts and cries of pain. The deafening noise goes on and on, as if time has slowed, until eventually it dies down.

"Take her," Jack says to Micah as he raises himself off me.

Micah grabs me under my arms and hauls me into the cabin. He shuts the door behind us and locks it.

"You idiot!" I reach for my brother and hug him tightly, shaken by the incredible risk he took. "You could have been killed."

"Any of us could have been killed tonight," Micah says. "But my money was on Mike. As long as he was up there in the barn loft, we had an ace up our sleeve."

When we're both assured the other is unharmed, we move to the window and peer out into the moonlit yard. Jack, Diego, and Aleksa are dragging fallen bodies to the center of the clearing, lining them up on the ground. I glance up at the sniper's nest and see the muzzle of Mike's rifle trained on the yard.

"Ten!" Aleksa calls. "We got them all."

I guess that's the all-clear sign because, a moment later, Mike Roman strolls out of the barn, holding his rifle at the ready, just in case.

There's a knock on the front door. I open it.

Jack walks in, a big grin on his face. "Now you can call the sheriff," he tells me. And then he pulls me into his arms and squeezes the daylights out of me. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," I say. "What about you?"

"Not a scratch on me."

"Were you serious about me calling the sheriff?"

He nods. "Sure. Somebody's got to deal with all these bodies. Besides, we're in the clear. It was self-defense."

Jack goes back outside to check on his teammates. Aleksa and Diego both have minor injuries. Jack and Mike are fine.

Micah remains inside with me.

"What you did tonight was incredibly brave, but very risky," I finally say to him. I walk to the fridge and grab us each a bottle of beer. I pop the caps and hand him one.

"I had to do it," Micah says. "We needed Mike up there in the sniper's nest. I knew if he took out Yuri, it would be over quickly."

I take a long swig of my beer and realize my hand is shaking.

Micah notices, too. "It's a delayed reaction to the stress."

I laugh. "Ya think?"

He reaches out and brushes my cheek. "Jack really stepped up. He was ready to sacrifice himself for you."

I nod. "Yes, he did." He used his own body to protect me.

Micah pulls out his phone. "I'll call Chris." While he's talking to the overnight dispatcher, Jack and the guys walk inside.

"Can I get you boys something to drink?" I ask, slipping into my familiar role, but instead of a bar between us, it's my kitchen counter.

Jack eyes my beer bottle. "Have you got anything stronger?"

"Yes," I say, laughing. I open the door to a cupboard to the right of my fridge. Inside are half a dozen bottles of top shelf liquor.

Jack catches my gaze. "I'll have my usual," he says with a grin.

"Coming right up." I grab a tumbler, pour him a double shot of whiskey, and hand it to him.

"Same for me," Mike says.

I end up pouring a double shot of whiskey for all four of the death squad members.

Twenty minutes later, the sheriff's SUV pulls into my yard, along with two police cruisers.

The six of us head outside to greet Sheriff Chris Nelson and explain the circumstances.

Jack shakes Chris's hand, and then he proceeds to tell him everything.

Suddenly, I'm exhausted. I stoke the fire and take a seat on the sofa. My head is spinning, thoughts racing as the events of the night flash over and over through my head. Each time, I realize how close we came to disaster.

Each time, I remember Jack putting himself between me and Yuri. I remember him taking me down to the porch and covering me with his body. The man risked his own life for mine.

I lean my head back on the cushions and close my eyes, hoping the room will stop spinning. The heat radiating from the wood stove feels good, comforting me.

Someone reaches for my hand. "Hey."

I open my eyes to find Jack sitting on the coffee table, facing me, cradling my hand in both of his.

He brushes the back of my hand. "You okay?"

I shrug, too tired to pretend otherwise. "Everything keeps playing in a loop."

He sighs. "That's typical. It was a rough night, and you've been through a lot."

I think of the ten dead bodies lying in my front yard. "You could say that." I lean forward and take both of his hands in mine. "You risked your life for me tonight."

Now it's his turn to shrug. "It was nothing."

"That wasn't nothing, Jack." I sit forward, facing him, our knees just inches apart.

His expression falls. "Don't forget, I'm the one who got you into this mess in the first place."

He's so determined to downplay his heroism tonight. "And you got me out of it, too." When I reach out and cup his cheek, he closes his eyes, as if savoring my touch. I lean closer and kiss him, pressing my lips lightly to his.

Before he can respond, Mike walks into the cabin. "Sorry, Jack, but the sheriff wants to see you."

I sit back on the sofa as Jack nods to his friend.

"I'll be right there," he says. He rises to his feet. "It's late," he says to me. "You should try to get some sleep. We'll wrap up outside."

Once he's gone, I walk to the window and peer outside. Chris has a spotlight shining down on the bodies, which have been covered with black tarps. There's a coroner's wagon in the yard now.

Micah comes inside. "That's a logistical nightmare. Ten bodies. That's a lot for a small county to deal with. They're calling in to other counties for assistance. It'll be a few hours before all the bodies are taken away." He walks up beside me. "Go to bed, Ruth. I'll stay up and keep a tab on things. You need sleep."

I'm exhausted, and I don't know how much longer I can stay upright. "I think I will. Let me know if you need me for anything."

"Will do," Micah says. He gives me a hug and kisses the top of my head.

After a pit stop in the bathroom to get ready for bed, I go to my room, shut the door, and collapse onto the mattress. I don't even bother to undress. I'm too tired, too shaken.

Sleep is slow in coming, and when it does, it comes in fits and starts. My head is filled with nightmare images of Micah being shot, Jack, or the others. It's a miracle none of them was seriously hurt tonight.

* * *

I wake early, before the sun is fully up, stunned when I realize I slept through the night. I'm a bit surprised to find I'm alone in my bed. I wouldn't have been surprised if I'd awakened to find Jack in bed with me.

After using the bathroom, I walk out into the main living area. Micah's asleep on the sofa, his long legs sticking out on one side. I try not to wake him as I start making coffee. There's no sign of Jack, so I imagine he's still asleep in the guest bedroom.

I glance out the kitchen window to see Mike heading across the yard, toward the cabin. I unlock the door and open it for him so he doesn't have to knock.

"Good morning," I whisper as he walks in.

He nods. "Morning," he replies just as quietly. He glances toward the kitchen. "Coffee?"

"I just put it on. It won't take long."

Mike glances at the sofa, spotting my brother's head resting on the arm. Then he looks me over. "You okay this morning?"

"Yes. I actually slept through the night. I guess exhaustion will do that to you."

By the time the coffee's ready, Diego and Aleksa have already joined us. Micah's awake now, sitting bleary-eyed on the sofa.

"How about some breakfast?" I ask the group. I see a lot of grateful nods. "Someone should wake Jack," I say, "or he'll miss out on all the fun."

Mike looks me in the eye. "Ruth."

My stomach drops at the tone of his voice. "Yes?"

"Jack's gone. He left early this morning, right after the sheriff and the coroners finished up."

"Left?" My gut hollows out. He left without saying goodbye? Without even telling me? "Where'd he go?"

Instead of answering my question, Mike pulls a folded piece of paper from his back pocket and hands it to me. "He left you this."

I make it as far as the kitchen table before I collapse onto one of the chairs.

He's gone.

I guess I shouldn't be surprised. He said the reason he stayed was because he was worried about my safety. Since that's no longer an issue, there's no reason for him to hang around.

I unfold the note.

Ruth,

I'm sorry for everything I put you through. I hope you believe that. And if you don't, well, I can't really blame you.

I've gone to make things right.

Thanks for everything,

Jack

I blink back the tears making it difficult for me to read, refold the note, and stick it in my back pocket. "Well, I guess that's that." What else can I say?

I'm such a hypocrite. I made it clear I didn't want him to stay—that I didn't want a relationship—and yet his leaving like this feels like a knife in my heart.

Mike's leaning against the kitchen counter, his arms crossed over his chest, watching me, as if he's expecting me to fall apart. That's not going to happen.

"I'm sure he had his reasons," Mike says, apologizing on Jack's behalf.

I level my gaze on him. "He left without saying a word, after everything we—" I stop because I'm getting choked up, and I am not going to fall apart in front of these guys.

Mike gestures to the note. "Not exactly."

"How about if I make breakfast?" Aleksa asks as he walks up behind me. He gently squeezes my shoulders. "You've already done so much for us, Ruth. You should take it easy and rest."

"After breakfast, we'll pack up our gear and load the vehicles," Mike says. "We'll be out of your hair in no time."