“Oh, so that’s the part that’s too fucked up?” she asked, stepping closer, chin tipped up. “That’s where you draw the line?”
Mac huffed a laugh. “I mean, it’s kinda fucked up.”
“Kind of?” Ruby barked, whirling on him. “There’s a dead man in my house. Do you think you’re gonna be the one fucked up from this? Or me?”
Mac blinked, then shrugged, easy. “Probably you.”
I rubbed a hand over my face, trying not to laugh. Jesus fucking Christ.
“Mac, why are you here? Don’t you have work to do?”
“Yes, boss,” Mac said, walking toward the staircase before turning around. “If you need new flooring, we got a guy.”
“New flooring?” Ruby repeated softly.
Mac shrugged. “Blood’s a bitch to get outta hardwood. Not saying it’s ruined. But, you know. Options.”
Lorenzo came back in, tracking a bit of dirt on the floor, an axe slung over his shoulder. “Got it.”
Ruby’s gaze flickered to it. I expected her to flinch, to pale even more, to turn away, but she didn’t. She just nodded, like she had finally accepted this was happening.
Like she had finally accepted us.
I exhaled through my nose, jerking my chin toward the stairs. “Get it done.”
Mac cracked his knuckles. “Gladly.”
Ruby turned away before they moved toward the body, but I didn’t miss the way her shoulders locked up, the way her breath shuddered out of her.
She was still standing in the kitchen when I walked up behind her, close enough that I could smell the sharp scent of vodka lingering on her skin.
The silence between us stretched out, thick and charged. Finally, she spoke. "It’s done?"
"No. It’ll probably take all night," I said. "I’ll tell you when it’s done."
Her shoulders dropped slightly, but I could tell she wasn’t relieved.
She let out a slow breath, then turned on her heel, heading for the liquor cabinet. I watched as she grabbed the aguardiente and poured herself a drink with hands that only shook slightly. She downed it in one go.
“Jesus, that’s a lot of booze,” I said.
“You want one?”
“Yeah,” I replied.
She handed me the glass she’d just used. I took a drink and let the alcohol settle in the back of my throat. It burned.
She poured herself another drink.
I lifted a brow.
"So, that’s the plan for tonight?"
She didn’t look at me as she poured another. "I don’t have a plan."
I walked over, plucking the glass from her hand before she could take another shot.
Her eyes snapped to mine. "Give that back."