Crushed Ruby, page 15
It didn’t help her at all.
Some days she hated her life. Some days she wished she had never found the strength to fight for her freedom and escape. At times, she wished she had died in that basement or at the hands of one of the men she was forced to pleasure.
Then, there were good days.
Like yesterday.
Days where she took a stand and reached for what she wanted. Yesterday, she had admitted to her sisters that she liked a guy. She had told Judah that when this case was over and he was no longer here on assignment to keep her safe, that she would say yes when he asked her out. Yesterday, she had felt safe and happy when she’d been held in the arms of the man whom she had feelings for. She’d felt like a normal woman, the same as everyone else.
Yesterday, she had been falling in love, and today, she was right back to wondering if she should slit her own wrists.
Why?
Why did she have to be like this?
Why couldn’t she pull it together?
Why did she still feel like she wanted to commit suicide when she had felt happy about her future when she had climbed out of bed this morning?
It wasn’t like anything bad had happened.
No one she loved had been hurt—which, when you had two sisters with dangerous jobs, could be a daily concern—and there had been no attempts by the home invasion gang to return. No one had said or done anything mean to her; her sisters and Gideon had all kissed her goodbye this morning and wished her a good day as they headed off to work. Judah had kissed her cheek and promised that he would make progress on this case, then wished her a good day. The cop guarding her door had checked in and told her she had nothing to worry about and wished her a good day.
You would think with so many wishes for a good day that she would be bound to have one no matter how hard her emotions tried to tell her otherwise.
But no, that wasn’t the way her brain worked.
Slowly, she moved the razor, pressing it hard enough into her skin to draw blood.
One move … that was all it would take.
Then she would be free.
She wouldn’t be stuck here anymore, suffering her own personal and never-ending hell.
Part of her wanted to do it so badly. It would be so nice not to have to feel this way anymore. She was so tired of it.
She was just so tired.
Ruby pressed deeper, watching the blood bubble and then flow out.
“Hey.”
The voice startled her. She spun around so quickly that the razor—now slick with blood—slipped from her fingers and clattered to the floor.
Judah was standing there.
He had to have seen what she’d just done. He was only two feet away.
Still, she quickly tried to bend down and retrieve the razor before he saw it.
She managed to snatch it up, curling her fingers around it, so it was hidden in the palm of her hand.
“What are you doing?” he asked, his hand moving from the blood on her forearm to her fist.
“Nothing,” she muttered, trying to get past him so she could escape into the downstairs bathroom where she could wash away the blood, stick a Band-Aid over it and hide the razor.
“Hold on,” he said. His large hand circled her small wrist and held it still while he pried her fingers open one by one.
Ruby wished the floor would open, and she could disappear.
This was a man whom she’d dreamed about having a future with. What was he going to think of her when he realized that she spent half her life thinking about ending it?
Without saying a word, he pushed the sleeve of her blouse up, revealing not only the bloody cut but her scars as well.
“You were thinking about killing yourself,” he said, his voice gone strange. She couldn’t decipher the tone, and that scared her.
Had she lost him already?
If she had, it wouldn’t be like she had anyone to blame but herself.
“Is that why you had the razor with you the night of the break-in?”
She could lie, but what would be the point?
Ruby nodded.
“I thought it might have been, but I hoped that I was wrong.”
So far, no one seemed to have thought to ask her why she’d been holding a razor when four people had broken into the house. They were so glad that she had been able to get into the safe room and that she hadn’t been hurt that that little detail had escaped them all.
“Come and sit down.” He took the razor off her palm and set it on the counter, then took her hand and led her over to the table. He pushed lightly on her shoulders, so she sat down in the chair he’d pulled out, and then he disappeared off into the bathroom, leaving her staring after him.
She couldn’t get a read on him.
He didn’t sound angry; he didn’t sound scared; he didn’t sound anything.
She needed him to tell her what was going on inside his head.
Judah returned, first aid kid in hand, and came and sat in a chair beside her, where he picked up her arm, cleaned the wound with calm, confident strokes, then his long fingers spread a little antibiotic cream over the cut and put on a Band-Aid.
Returning everything to the first aid kit, he snapped it closed, then sat there and stared at it.
Ruby didn’t know what to say.
Did he want an assurance she wouldn’t try it again?
Did he want an explanation?
Did he want her to just sit here and not say anything?
Her mouth started moving all on its own, having bypassed her head in the decision-making process. “I think about it a lot. And it’s not the first time I tried it. About two months after I escaped was the first time, then again nearly two years after I was back home, and again nearly eighteen months ago.”
He lifted his head and looked at her, those piercing blue eyes cutting right through her. “I would think for someone who went through something as traumatic as you did that it’s a fairly normal reaction.”
Immediately, she shook her head in disagreement. “My sisters all went through the same sort of traumatic experience, and none of them have ever tried to kill themselves.”
That had always eaten away at her. It wasn’t what had happened to her that made her want to end her own life because if it was, then all of her sisters would have tried suicide as well. It was her. She was the difference and weaker than her sisters.
“Different people react differently,” he said.
She’d heard that before.
Actually, more than once.
From several of the shrinks she’d seen.
She didn’t believe it any more coming from Judah’s lips than she had from theirs.
“No, it’s me. I’m not strong.” She began to cry quietly. She didn’t want to, Judah had already seen her thrashing and screaming, trapped in a nightmare, and now he had seen her contemplating killing herself. He certainly didn’t need another reason to walk away before he got in too deep.
“Stop it,” he said fiercely, grabbing her shoulders and dragging her to her feet. “Stop it,” he repeated when tears continued to tumble down her cheeks. When she couldn’t do as he asked, he curled a hand around the back of her neck and dipped his head, crushing his mouth to hers and kissing her.
Startled for a moment, she froze.
That was not the reaction she’d been expecting.
Then, like magic, his lips began to calm her, and she lifted an arm and wrapped it around his shoulders and began to kiss him back.
They were kissing.
Normal kissing.
Not some psycho who paid to play with her kissing her, but the two of them kissing each other.
Because they wanted to.
This was nice.
Too soon, he ended the kiss, but he didn’t release his hold on her. That was a good thing, right?
“Thinking about suicide doesn’t mean you’re weak. It just means you’re hurting,” he murmured against her lips. “Even though you’re hurting, you have to try to remember that you’re not alone. You have a lot of people who care about you. You have your sisters and Gideon, and you have me. I care. I don’t want to lose you. I care about you, and I am here for you. Any time you need someone to talk to, someone to remind you that you’re special and that you would be missed, you call me, okay? I mean it. Any time that you feel overwhelmed and you want to end your life, you call me, and I’ll be here. Promise me, Ruby, please.” He reached out and brushed the back of his knuckles across her cheek, his cornflower blue eyes catching hers and refusing to let them go until she promised.
It wasn’t that she didn’t know that she couldn’t do that exact same thing with her sisters. If they knew that she was having suicidal thoughts, they would want her to reach out to them and let them help, but somehow, it was different with Judah. Maybe it was because he wasn’t related to her. He didn’t have to be saying this; he didn’t owe her anything. He was asking her this and offering her himself just because he wanted to.
“Okay,” she agreed, and immediately saw his shoulders sag with relief. She got it. He had lost someone he loved to suicide. He’d wanted to build something special with her that they could cherish the rest of their lives, and he didn’t want to lose her before they got a chance to do that. She probably didn’t have any right to ask this, but she was going to anyway. “Who did you lose? Someone you loved committed suicide, didn’t they? Who was it?”
Abruptly, he released her and snatched up the first aid kid, stalking over to the bathroom door.
She’d blown it.
She had gotten nosey, and it had made him angry.
“I’m sorry,” she said quickly before he could walk away. She hadn’t meant to upset him, she just wanted to understand him better, to date him and see if they could build something that would weather the storms of a lifetime.
“I didn’t lose anyone,” he said softly. “It was me. I attempted suicide.”
With that, he opened the bathroom door, stepped inside, and slammed it behind him.
Ruby just stood there—shocked. That was the last thing she had expected him to say.
* * * * *
9:46 P.M.
“Did you hear about the home invasions in the neighborhood?”
He glanced up at his fiancée. “No. What home invasions?”
“Apparently, there have been three of them, all within about ten minutes from here. Someone managed to escape one of them, but in the other two, everyone in the house was killed except for a baby,” his fiancée explained, her eyes wide as she joined him on the bed.
“What, so you think that they’re going to come here next?” he asked, setting his book down and taking off his glasses. Dan Lanely pinched his nose. He was really going to need new glasses soon. These always left him aching by the end of the day, but he had three kids, and his fiancée, Judy, had two. They were planning a wedding, and had just bought a new house—one big enough to fit their joined families—and things like new glasses were at the bottom of the list.
“Well, no,” Judy said, getting under the covers. “The odds of them coming to our house next are pretty slim, but still, three home invasions in our neighborhood all within the last three nights … that’s scary stuff.”
“It is,” he agreed. He was usually too busy to spend time watching the news. Between work and raising five kids—aged between six and fifteen—he didn’t really have time for anything else. He didn’t use social media, preferring to spend his time either with his friends and family in person, or squeezing in a little reading when he found the occasional spare moment, so unless someone told him, he didn’t usually catch the news.
“I’m kind of glad that all the kids aren’t here tonight,” she said. “I mean, I know that the chances of them coming here are slim, but still, what if they did?”
Dan had to admit that he was glad the kids weren’t here tonight as well. Judy was right; it wasn’t likely that the home invaders would choose their house to break into, but he couldn’t stand the thought of his kids in danger. His six, nine, and twelve-year-old children were at their mother’s house this week. They shared custody and did a week on, week off rotation. His fiancée’s ten-year-old was at school camp, and the fifteen-year-old hadn’t wanted to be the only kid in the house and was having a sleepover at a friend’s house.
“Well, the kids are all out, and we’re perfectly safe here. We have a security system, and the doors are all locked. No one is breaking in here,” he assured Judy as he draped an arm around her shoulders. They did have the house to themselves tonight—a rare occurrence. He was divorced, so his kids spent half their time at their mother’s. But Judy was a widow, so her kids lived here full time. There weren’t many nights where it was just the two of them. They could make the most of it, have a little romantic time before bed, but he was exhausted, and he knew that Judy was too. A full night of uninterrupted sleep sounded wonderful.
Judy rested her head on his shoulders. “Grown-up time is nice, but sleep sounds so much better tonight. And you’re right, I guess I got a little freaked out about those murders, but we’re safe here.”
“Absolutely,” he said, sensing she needed to hear it one last time. Leaning over, he gave her a quick kiss and then switched off the lamp on his nightstand. They both lay down, and Judy rested her head on his chest. He began to stroke her hair as he closed his eyes. “Night.”
“Night. I love you.”
“Love you too.” He was really lucky to have been given a second chance at love. He hadn’t done so well the first time. The pressure of raising three kids—one with special needs—and working full-time jobs had eroded their love until all they did was fight. It wasn’t until they realized the effect it was having on their kids when the oldest began to act out in school that they realized they were better off as co-parents than partners, so they’d divorced. He met Judy, and now they were getting ready to share their lives. This time around, he was determined that nothing was going to come between him and the woman he loved.
Dan was just drifting off when he heard the sound of breaking glass.
From the way she bolted upright, he knew that Judy had heard it too.
“Hide,” he said, already climbing out of bed. What were the chances the breaking glass was the home invaders breaking in? He had no idea, but it seemed greater than he had originally thought.
“Dan,” Judy whimpered, clinging to him.
“Go, on, hide,” he hissed. If someone really was in here, he didn’t want them getting to his fiancée. They didn’t own a gun, but his twelve-year-old son played baseball and owned a bat. It couldn’t compete with a gun, but it was better than nothing.
Leaving Judy in the bedroom, he crept out into the hall where he froze and stood still as he listened for any sounds.
Footsteps.
And voices.
Someone was definitely inside his home.
As silently as he could, he ran down the hall to his son’s room and grabbed the baseball bat. He didn’t think it was going to help him, but it was better than confronting the intruder—or intruders—unarmed.
He was just approaching the top of the stairs when he saw them.
There were four of them all dressed in costumes—a skull, ghost, witch, and black cat.
They were all armed.
Fear sliced through him. Fear that he couldn’t protect his fiancée and that she was going to wind up dead because of it. Fear that while his children wouldn’t be physically harmed, they would be scarred for life growing up without their dad. Fear for Judy’s kids that he loved like his own who would now be orphans.
“Hello,” Ghost singsonged up at him when they caught sight of him standing there.
For once, he wished that he didn’t have a no cell phone in the bedroom policy. His phone and Judy’s were sitting uselessly downstairs on the kitchen counter. He might only have a baseball bat to their four guns, but he wasn’t going down without a fight.
“Get out of my house,” he growled.
“Um, yeah … no,” Ghost said.
They were advancing, and he had nowhere to go.
So, he stood his ground.
As they approached, he swung the bat at them. Skull, who was leading the group, dodged backward, and then, without a word of warning, he fired his gun, aiming it at his knee and hitting his target perfectly.
Pain shot through him, and he yelped as he dropped the bat—which clattered down the stairs—and he fell to the floor, clutching at his shattered joint.
“I’m not in the mood for games tonight,” Skull snapped, standing above him and glaring at him, then turning that glare on his comrades.
“Oh, lighten up,” Ghost laughed. “I’m going to go search for the Missus.”
“Take your girl with you. I don’t want a repeat of last time,” Skull ordered.
“You better not put your hands on her again,” Ghost said, getting all up in Skull’s face, but the other man stood his ground.
“Go find the woman … bring her to the bedroom. I’m not dragging him down to the dining room,” Skull ordered.
“Yes, sir,” Ghost mocked, saluting. It was clear the two were engaged in a battle for control, but he wasn’t sure how that helped him and Judy.
He wasn’t sure it did.
Ghost and Witch went off, and Skull grabbed hold of him and began to drag him toward the bedroom. Dan prayed Judy had hidden away someplace she would never be found, but he wasn’t optimistic.
They were both going to die.
That much was clear.
In the bedroom, Skull draped him on the bed and then dragged him up, so he was lying flat on his back, securing his wrists and ankles to the bedposts.
He was trapped.
Helpless.
If he wasn’t in unimaginable agony, he would have been furious.
“You want to do the honors?” Skull asked Black Cat, holding up a knife.
So, it was over already.
They were going to kill him here and now.
“It would be my pleasure,” Black Cat purred, taking the knife and kneeling on the bed beside him. Instead of stabbing him, she used the knife to cut the T-shirt and sweatpants he slept in off his body, leaving him stark naked.
