Ruin Box Set (15 page)

Chapter Two

“Soooo . . . ” Isadore whispered as she shouldered her way past Ruin with a third suitcase.
Just in case our journey is a long one.
“Which direction is our first location?” She tossed her luggage in the back and flashed him a smile that made him once again want to finish what he’d started in the bathroom the night before. Sneaking out of her own house and leaving Stacy a note, or free pass to house sit while they were gone, had Isadore glowing with mischief.

But just beyond her smile and light tone, dread and fear hid. The wall. What was the wall? Why was there a wall? What kind of wall? She didn’t like the not knowing and he understood that part. But that didn’t explain her instinct to fear and dread the wall.

Ruin climbed in the passenger side of the truck and shut the door a little too hard. “North.”

“Ohhh, north, okay.” She climbed into the driver seat and he couldn’t help notice the curve of her . . . ass, yes, in her pants. Jeans, she called them. Her hair was pulled back, held by a red band and swishing like a horse’s tail when she turned her head. So many words he needed to learn still. Slang especially. Inside jokes, innuendo, passive aggression . . . Isadore was good at all of it and he was quickly picking it up but not fast enough for him. “I have family north. Maybe we can stop for a visit.”

More of that strange air that always came after intimacy, settled between them as she worked the shift into reverse and grabbed hold of the backseat to drive. Again, he was distracted with the push of her breasts in her white T-shirt. She wore a well-padded bra, white, but after seeing her naked, it was more than tormenting how they begged for him. Begged for his lips and tongue and…teeth.

He clamped his jaw and stifled a growl of need, turning his focus to the quickly passing swamp trees. He remembered her words then. “What family do you have up north?” Was that where they were headed? To family? Was the wall in her mind a fracture? A roadblock forbidding traffic beyond that point? He recalled the various scenarios from the medical dictionary.

Regardless of what it was, trauma of some sort caused walls, blocks and other medical disconnections, etcetera. Trauma involving lots of unmanageable pain. Someone she was close to would have that power. Family. So yes, maybe they were headed back home.

He examined his own feelings in the matter. Where did his eagerness to discover what lay beyond that wall, originate? Why did he have the need? What was its purpose? Desire? Intention? Reason?

Mysteries about her were bad enough, but the ones about himself seemed more difficult to accept. Nagging. So many things nagged at him. Mystery after mystery, puzzle after puzzle, vying for his attention. Figure me. Explain me. Solve me. Crack me.

Finger me.

Those words she’d once gasped to him burned through his body, the vision of her naked,
perfect
ass squirming and begging, tormented his mind. Ruin rolled down the window and gulped in the air as the memory of her coming so perfectly undone on his finger gripped him.

How was he supposed to help her if he couldn’t think past giving her pleasure? She begged for it every second without words. Her entire being cried desperately for it. To be cleansed and purged with . . . fire. It
was
like fire, the power and hunger, very much like the fire inside him. Could he demolish that wall with pleasure? Maybe. And he was all too willing to test the
overcoming bad memories with good ones
theory. But the brain was a tricky thing, not always responding predictable ways.

He’d have to play that one carefully.

“Can I see it?”

He glanced at Isadore, his heart racing at her soft inquisitive tone.

“The tattoo. The one that’s flickering.”

He regarded the shields over her eyes that she called sunglasses. He didn’t like them. “You’re driving.”

Her top lip raised on the right. “I know how to
drive
and look for Pete’s sake.” She checked all her mirrors as though demonstrating.

Ruin watched the yellow lines on the two lane road disappear under the truck then appear again. “You’re not a good driver.”

She gasped. “What? I am too! I have
zero
infractions on my record. Not
one
accident… that was my fault.” She sliced the air dramatically, jerking the truck a little then laughing boisterously and pointing at him. “Got you. I meant to do that. I can drive just fine. You can show me the tattoo at the gas station coming up? I just want to touch it.” She jerked up a hand. “Not in a weird way. And we’ll fuel up and get ready for a long drive.”

“Or short,” Ruin said, wondering over her wanting to touch him
not in a weird way
. “We don’t know how far north yet.” What did she mean by
weird way?
He couldn’t think of a single way she could touch him that he’d find weird or strange. He couldn’t seem to think of anything that didn’t involve her touching him, though.

She shrugged. “Doesn’t hurt to plan for the worst. Or the best, if you like long road trips.” Judging by her tone and smile, she liked long road trips. Isadore reached and turned a dial on the radio and began moving her entire body to a banging noise that crackled around a whiney voice from somewhere in the dashboard. The awful sound faded in and out and Isadore smacked her palm repeatedly on the dash. “Come on you hunk-a-junk, give it to me.” More intermittent whacking then she growled and spun the other dial, producing a hissing groan from those hellholes hiding near his feet.

Ruin covered his ears with his hands. “I’d rather hear
you
sing.”

She spun the knob and it clicked, ushering in a lovely silence. “What you wanna’ hear? I know a few oldies. How about something classic?”

Ruin turned clenched eyes away, fighting the urge to plug his ears with something as she yelled out a song. How could she possibly sound worse than that auditory torture device she’d just relieved him of? “Isn’t that a gas station?” He pointed to a sign coming up.

“Too expensive,” she said, getting back to belting out her torture.

“Tell me about your mother,” Ruin yelled.

She fell silent for many seconds before sighing. “What do you want to know?” Her wretched tone said she knew the question was bound to come and was resigned to get it over with. It convinced Ruin he needed to extract every detail he could about her mother. Likely the bulk of her wall. 

“Everything.”

She pushed her shades tight to her head, checking her mirrors again. Definitely a nervous twitch when caution flared. Danger. Trouble. “Okay,” she said lightly. “Well, it all started for me in those swamps. Literally. My mother believed in water birthing and she had me right there in those nasty waters.” She shook her head, disgust twisting her mouth. “She always said I was a miracle baby and now I know why. Bloody miracle I didn’t contract some fatal disease.”

“Wow.” Seemed to be an acceptable and suitable response even though Ruin didn’t find the incident that strange.

“Yeah, right. My father wasn’t much better. He cut the umbilical cord with the same knife he used to gut fish. I was homeschooled up until I left the swamp at thirteen when my mother decided she’d had enough of the swamp life.” Her tone ended on a light happy note and she hummed now, giving the impression the story was over with that.

“Why did your mother get tired of the swamp?”

“Eh,” she shrugged a little. “You can’t blame her. Look at the place. It’s not exactly an easy environment for a city woman.”

“She’s from the city?”

“Yes, Boston.” Isadore turned into a gas station, craning her neck at the sign. “This is the kind of bargain we need. Two dollars and fifty-five cents a gallon, my God, I can’t believe I’m calling that a bargain,” she mumbled, zipping through the crowded parking lot way too fast before coming to a whip-lashing halt at a gas pump. He needed to learn how to drive. He never contemplated death except when in a vehicle with her. He was pretty sure dying wasn’t going to work out with his plans, and he was pretty sure he would if he didn’t take that little privilege from her, first chance.

Ruin looked around at the busy stop, wondering where everybody was going in such a hurry. He got out of the truck, met Isadore at the gas pump and watched her.

“Uh, this is the thing we use to put gas in—”

“I know what it is. And what it’s for.”

She lifted her glasses up and rested them on top of her head and the sudden view of her blue eyes stole his breath. “Well excuse me Mr. Smarty-pants, I was just trying to ‘teach’ you.”

He didn’t like the mocking way she said that one word but let it go this time as he studied his environment and ascertained all that he could from sight and the data he’d learned. She placed a palm on the truck, cocked her hip, and watched the numbers move on the pump. At a glance, he understood what they were for and was sure she’d stop at fifty dollars even. His gaze strayed back to her, studying again how she looked not wearing her baggy overalls.

He glanced around when the instinct to protect rushed over him. He caught sight of a man at a neighboring pump, staring at her. At her body, to be precise. Her ass to be even more precise. Ruin was sure the man was violating a major law. Several. And the need to judge him suddenly rose up with a recklessness.

“Done,” she sang, putting the handle back in place with a loud clamor while Ruin screwed the gas cap back in place. “Very good,” she applauded, smiling up at him with one eye squinted.

“I’m not three, Isadore.”

She dropped her lovely jaw and slapped his chest. “I can compliment you!”

Instinct had him catch her hand in his and the feel of her, smell of her that close, sent his body on a mission that he couldn’t possibly pursue in a parking lot at a gas station. Seeing desire flare in her eyes and cheeks didn’t help set him on the right track.

Ruin released her. “Thank you. Now what?” He looked around, hoping they were finished and could leave.

“Now we go pay for the gas.” She opened the truck, pulled the seat forward and shouldered a pillow-sized sack on her arm then shut the door with a bang. Linking her other arm in his, she pulled him along. The simple physical gesture shattered Ruin’s barely maintained control, leaving him in silence to direct the ice inside him to cool his body down. “We’ll get snacks and supplies while we’re at it.”

Ruin muttered, “I like snacks.”

She laughed as they got to the door and Ruin tensed as the guy staring her down earlier ran ahead and opened it for them.

“Thank you,” she said, entering.

The man stepped in behind them. “You’re very welcome.” His tone dripped with the threat of premeditated sins against Isadore causing Ruin’s judgment instincts to burst to life.

“Move along, JD,” she whispered, pulling him through the
judge him now
, locking his muscles.

“Mm-mmm,” the man muttered lustily behind them.

Ruin turned and the moral filth ran into him,
moron
grooved into the lines of his forehead.

The man gave a slow sneer. “Excuse you.”

“JD, come on,” Isadore said, her voice hard. “Now!”

“Yeah J . . . D . . . ” He quirked his brow.

“You will keep your mouth closed.” Ruin watched the power in his words touch the exact part of the man’s brain and carry out the judgment. In the next millisecond, Ruin ascertained the long list of the man’s sins, his body locked and loaded with the urge to splinter every cell in his filthy body.

The man fought to move his jaw, his black beady eyes wide with fear. “That wasn’t so hard, was it?” Ruin patted the man’s shoulder. “You’re welcome.”

He let Isadore drag him to the back of the store. “What did you
do
?” she hissed, peering around him at the commotion at the front of the store.

“I didn’t kill him.”

“Oh my God, you can’t just
do that
to people JD!”

“Stop calling me JD,” he said, annoyed now.

“Well I can’t exactly call you
Ruin
now can I?”

“I don’t’ see why not, are you ashamed to?”

She did several more double takes to the front of the store while gasping on unspoken words and dragging him into a small hall in the corner of the store. “What is wrong with you?”

“Nothing is wrong with me. Nothing different than before, I’m still the same man I was when we left your home. What is wrong with
you
?”

“Nothing is wrong with me, I’m not the one shutting people’s mouths because they compliment me!”

“Compliment you?” Fury hit his blood and he leaned his face in to hers. “He wanted to
rape
you seven different ways,
Isadore.
”

Something clicked in her head and the sudden drastic change in her attitude from cocky to fragile tore him with the urge to pull her against his body or walk off and get away from the disgusting emotion. Leaving her wasn’t an option and neither was going a second longer not feeling her.