Page 28 of Ruined

I grab my violin case and hold it tight against my chest. I won't play for him. I can't. Music has always been my sanctuary, the one place where I'm truly free. If I share that with Noah, what will I have left that's just mine?

CHAPTER 9

My phone vibrates against the kitchen counter. Matteo's name flashes across the screen.

"What?" I keep my voice low, glancing toward the bedroom where Evelyn's holed up with her violin.

"Ivan's men are tearing up the city looking for her." Matteo's voice carries an edge I rarely hear. "They hit three of her usual spots last night. The Carlyle's a fucking mess."

I grip the phone tighter. "Let them look."

"This isn't a game, Noah. Ivan's calling in favors. He's got eyes everywhere."

"Good. Let him squander his resources." I move to the window, scanning the street below out of habit. "I need you to come watch her."

"The fuck? I'm not your babysitter."

"There's shit I need to handle. Can't leave her alone." The thought of Evelyn making another escape attempt makes my jaw clench.

"You're losing it. First you take her, now you want me to play guard dog?"

"Just get your ass over here."

A long pause. I hear him exhale. "Fine. But you owe me."

I end the call without responding. Through the bedroom door I hear the soft whisper of violin strings being plucked – not played, just touched. Like she's reminding herself they're still there.

But watching her grip that violin case like a shield, seeing the fire in her eyes when she fights back – it wakes up parts of me that should've stayed dead.

I press my forehead against the cool glass of the window. Far below, the city moves in its usual rhythm, unaware of the war brewing in its shadows.

I cross to the bedroom door and knock. No response. Just the faint sound of her fingers on the violin strings.

"Evelyn." I rap my knuckles against the wood again. "Open the door."

Silence.

"I can take this door off its hinges in under a minute. Your choice."

"Fuck off." Her voice cracks like a whip.

"I'm leaving for a few hours. Matteo's coming to keep an eye on you."

A harsh laugh. "Trading one jailer for another?"

"He won't bother you. But I need to handle some business."

"What kind of business?" Her tone sharpens. "Killing more people?"

"Open the door."

"Why should I?"

"Because I'm asking nicely." I lean against the doorframe. "For now."

The lock clicks. The door swings open and she stands there, violin case armored to her chest. Her hair falls in damp waves around her face, my T-shirt hanging loose on her frame.

"I hate you," she says, but there's something else beneath the venom in her voice. Something that makes my blood run hot.

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