Page 70 of Swerve (Boosted Hearts 1)

“You have to come alone. If I see anyone with you, I’m gone.”

I wasn’t dumb enough to go in without backup, no matter what he said. I wasn’t telling him that, though. “Fine. Where?”

It only took me twenty minutes to find the small, run-down Brooklyn house. I parked a few blocks away, behind Harry’s truck. As I climbed out of my car, I concentrated on the feel of my gun against my back and the heavy weight of the cuffs in my front pocket, reassuring myself.

Harry climbed out and met me on the sidewalk. “You ready?”

“You’ll need to stay out of sight or we could lose him.”

Harry dipped his chin and we walked quickly down the street. There were no other cars parked in front of or around the house, nothing that would tip me off to some kind of ambush waiting inside. The houses on both sides were either empty or no one was home, because the lights were out, making the backyard extremely dark.

Harry and I split up, in case Scott was watching from somewhere. The ground was squishy under my boots as I made my way to the back door, pulling my gun free as I took the steps. The door was ajar and I pushed it open, pausing to take in my surroundings, searching the shadows, listening for anything.

There was a faint light ahead, coming from under a closed door. I made my way down the hall, and what sounded like glass and other debris crunched underfoot. Gun pointed up, I turned the door handle, pushing the door open a crack . . .

And was instantly hit with the smell of rotting garbage, and . . . other nasty shit. I reluctantly shoved it the rest of the way open, and then froze, a startled cry escaping before I could swallow it down.

“Ruby?” Harry said, moving down the hall toward me.

“I’m okay.” I couldn’t take my eyes off Scott, his body a twisted heap on the floor. His eyes open, dull and lifeless, staring blindly up at me. He obviously hadn’t been dead long because blood still oozed sluggishly from the back of his head, staining the dirty carpet beneath.

“Shit.” Harry said, coming up behind me.

I walked over and took a good look at Scott. His clothes were filthy, and there were dark circles under his eyes that weren’t from a beating, but from exhaustion. I could only guess he’d been living in this room, hiding from someone—maybe from the woman Jimmy’s neighbor mentioned—all this time.

“I’ll do a sweep of the house, make sure we’re alone,” Harry said, then moved away from the door.

Something was sticking out of Scott’s pocket. A folded piece of paper. I slid it free quickly and shoved it in my pocket, then straightened and, holding my gun in front of me, walked back to the door, listening.

I could hear Harry moving around, but besides that, the house was silent, utterly, eerily so.

I turned back to Scott, the second dead body I’d seen in a matter of weeks, and cursed. Whatever he wanted to tell me, I’d never know. Goddammit.

I pulled my phone from my back pocket as I made my way back outside, checking the shadows as I went, listening for any sign that Harry and I weren’t on our own. I got the feeling the person that did this was gone. They’d come to silence Scott and they’d succeeded. What reason would there be to stick around?

I opened my contacts and stared down at Neco’s name . . .

“You calling the cops?”

I shook my head. “Not yet. I need to call the guys at the King Agency. They’re looking for Scott as well.”

Harry gave me a nod and a sympathetic look. He knew as much as I did Neco wouldn’t be happy about me coming here.

I scrolled past Neco’s name on my phone and hit Hunter’s number instead.

“What’s up?” Hunter answered.

“We have a problem.”

“Talk to me.”

I laid it out, ignoring the cursing he was doing under his breath the whole time.

“Have you called the cops?” he asked.

“No.”

“Good.”