Page 57 of Ruin Me
“We’ve got company,” Quentin notes, his voice tight as he watches through his own set of binoculars. “As expected, it’s the Vipers.”
As expected.So, they downplayed their involvement, probably to protect me. Bastards.
“Fuck,” Callum curses under his breath. We all know what this means. If the Vipers are here for the goods, then we’re not just up against Harrow’s treachery—we’re potentially starting an all-out war.
“We need to get closer,” Thayer suggests, already moving.
“You all need to get down there,” I say desperately, lowering the binoculars. “We can’t let those drugs loose on the street.”
No. No way. Not on my watch.
“Someone has to stay here with you,” Thayer says, but it doesn’t look like it’s going to be him; he’s already halfway across the floor.
“No one knows we’re here. Just go,” I say urgently. “I’ll be fine.”
“No,” Quen growls.
“Go!” I growl back. “This isn’t up for debate. I will hear anyone coming a mile away. You can’t creep around in this shithole. There are places to hide, I’ll be fine. Go. Please.” He must hear the desperation in my voice and gives me a curious stare. I meet it head-on. Yeah. I have a serious issue with drugs. I saw too many people succumb to their seduction growing up where I did, where shooting up was a natural thing. Not for me. Never for me. My future meant too much.
“Go,” I grit out.
He presses something into my hand and nods once, following the rest of the guys, going against every instinct he has because he knows it’s important to me. I glance down and see it’s a small gun. I have no idea how to use it, but point-and-shoot seems to work in the movies. I shove it in the back of my jeans, hoping it doesn’t come to that.
Turning back to the window, I adjust the binoculars, bringing the distant figures into focus as they converge on the abandoned warehouse that serves as a front for our rivals.
Below, Callum and Quentin move with a predator’s grace, shadows among shadows. They’re nearly identical, those two, except where life has chiselled different stories into their movements. Quentin’s got that edge, a hard glint in his eyes—you don’t get that growing up easy. Callum’s right beside him, just as lethal but smoother, like he was born to this darkness.
Thayer and Harry split off, going around.
“Dammit, I can’t see all of you,” I murmur.
My phone buzzes in my pocket and I pull it out with a frown, needing to check in case it’s one of the guys in trouble. It’s Thayer, making sure I’m still safe. I send him the thumbs-up emoji and go back to peering through the binoculars. My gaze doesn’t waver from the scene unfolding below.
Suddenly, it’s all action. A door bursts open, and a gang pours out. Gunfire erupts, loud enough that it reaches me even here. I flinch—not scared, just the body’s honest reaction to chaos. But my eyes stay glued to the binoculars, watching as The Crowned Syndicate goes to work.
Harrison moves like he’s part of the air itself, dropping one rival after another. Callum defends Quentin’s blind side, an unspoken trust between them that speaks volumes. They’re a unit down there, all moving with deadly intent.
Thayer is nowhere to be seen, but then that doesn’t surprise me. He’s like a ninja. You don’t see him unless he wants you to.
This appears to be a raid by one gang on another. I guess those flares don’t work after all. All they did was alert the would-be thieves that there were drugs to steal.
My phone vibrates in my pocket again, making me jump. “Fuck, Thayer,” I grouse quietly, pulling the phone out again.
But this time, it’s a message from an unknownnumber. The words turn my blood to ice as I read them:
Vogue, your moves are bolder than I expected. We need to talk. - A.M.
Aaron McGowan. His initials burn into my retinas, and for a moment, I’m frozen.
Is it really him? Is it a trap? Or something worse?
Before I can decide on a response, another message pops up, making my heart skip a beat.
Meet me at your flat. Don’t bring your friends. This is family business.
Family business. The words echo in my head, mocking, threatening. My father, a ghost from my past, now steps into the light, uninvited.
I shove the phone back into my pocket, my mind swirling with questions and fears. This isn’t just another complication; it’s a game changer. Aaron McGowan is dangerous—more so because he’s connected by blood, and blood, as I’ve come to learn, can be a curse.
