Page 41 of Ruin

I couldn’t really say why. To keep her safe, maybe. Or to make sure she didn’t try to come along—which I was sure she would. This was going to be a dangerous ride, full of rough men and too many guns, and us trying to throw our weight around when there were only three of us. It wasn’t going to be a fun day, and there was a chance that one or more of us would be hurt at the end of it. I didn’t want to have to defend myself and keep an eye on Saraya at the same time, and my experience with the clubhouses around here was that if you took a pretty girl in, too many men took notice and tried to take her away from you.

Whether she was willing or not.

Suddenly I wondered if she’d somehow found out about the plan, though. Had she happened across the sheet of paper we’d been using for brainstorming? Heard us talking about it when we didn’t know she was around the corner?

Hell, did she know I’d been keeping a secret from her?

I almost jumped out of bed at the thought, tossing clothes every which way in my hurry to find jeans that were at least somewhat clean. I yanked them on and hustled out into the hallway, looking everywhere for her. Maybe she didn’t find out. Maybe she was just out here reading or something.

Maybe she was out for a walk, or having breakfast with the guys.

Then I remembered her slipping out of bed this morning. I’d been foggy with sleep and barely paying attention, and it had seemed like nothing more than a dream. When I reached for it, though, it didn’t disappear the way dreams did. It grew more solid.

She’d gotten up early, while it was still dark, and gone into the bathroom. She hadn’t taken a shower, though. I’d thought that was odd at the time, since we’d both been wet with sweat—and other things—when we went to bed. Instead, she’d gotten dressed and crept out of the bedroom without kissing me.

I’d heard voices in the kitchen. Hers and a man’s. And then the click of a door shutting.

I’d heard...

Oh shit.

I’d heard the rumble of a bike starting up. It wasn’t close, though. Something in the distance. Maybe out on the road? It couldn’t have been her, I told myself firmly. Why would she have walked a bike all the way out to the road before starting it? Why would she be taking a bike in the first place? Plenty of people had bikes in this neighborhood, and I’d probably just heard one of them.

She was probably in the kitchen having breakfast, or watching TV with Brock.

When I got to the living room, though, I saw Brock asleep on the couch, the TV on and showing morning cartoons. I smirked at that, half tempted to stop and take a picture so I could tease him about it later, but turned toward the kitchen. Saraya wouldn’t be sitting in the living room while Brock was asleep. She would have crept through here, doing her best not to wake the big man.

When I got to the kitchen, though, I found that empty as well. There was coffee in the coffee maker, and several coffee mugs sat on the table. But no one was attached to them, and when I held my hand over one of them, I found the liquid inside cold.

Someone had been in here drinking coffee, but they were long gone.

Where the fuck was Saraya, and where were the men I’d had on watch last night? They should be in here warming themselves up and reporting back to Remy about whether they’d seen anything suspicious.

I stepped to the door and looked out, scanning the area for any of the guys, but I didn’t see anyone. The bikes were grouped off to one side, the Mustang I’d stolen over there as well, but I could see from here that no one was standing with them. No one was in the Mustang unless they were lying across the seats, and honestly I didn’t think there was room in there for that sort of thing.

Then I remembered how small Saraya was.

I darted across the gravel of the driveway, my heart reaching up into my mouth, and glanced through the windows, praying that she’d be in there.

She wasn’t.

I turned and headed back for the house, thinking that Brock might have seen her and then fallen asleep after she left him. Perhaps he’d be able to tell me where she was.

I burst back into the house without trying to be quiet and strode to where he was sleeping on the couch. A quick shake of his shoulder and he was up and alert, used to years of having to wake up quickly for Banshee business. When he saw me, he relaxed a bit but frowned.

“What’s up, boss? Did I oversleep? Are we leaving?”

Leaving for what? Oh, the mission. I’d completely forgotten about it in my search for Saraya.

“No. I’m looking for Saraya. Have you seen her?”

The big man’s frown deepened, and he looked down at the couch, considering it like it might give him the answer to the question. But then he shook his head. “No. I fell asleep last night, little after midnight, I think. I don’t remember anything until right now. Why? Where’s she gone?”

I fought the sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach, trying very, very hard to think through it. So Brock hadn’t seen her. That wasn’t the end of the world. Maybe someone else had. I turned and was walking through the kitchen again before I remembered that Brock had asked me a question.

“I have no idea where she is. That’s the problem.”

“I’M TELLING YOU, MAN, I don’t know anything about anything,” Jimmy said for what had to be the fifteenth tine.