Page 62 of Ruin Me
The ringing cuts through the tense atmosphere again, filling us with despair. We all look at the phone, silently urging Vogue to pick up, to just fucking say something. But again, it goes to voicemail. I shove my phone back into my pocket, feeling useless.
Harry’s knuckles are white on the steering wheel as we finally turn onto the street where Aaron’s office building sits. Modest by city standards, it’s a cover-up for the power that moves and shakes within its walls. It’s a monument to power and corruption, and somewhere in there is Vogue—a girl who came from nothing and could potentially be swallowed whole by this world she’s been thrust into.
“We’re at the wrong fucking end,” Harry snarls, slamming his fist on the steering wheel as we get snagged up at the lights. “Fuck these one ways!”
“Don’t,” Cal says, shaking his head as he pre-empts Harry’s veer into the opposite lane. “You’ll cause a collision; the police will be here, we’ll be held up even longer… it’s a whole thing. Just stay the course.”
Harry nods, gritting his teeth, muttering under his breath.
“Go around the back,” Quen states. “Less eyes.”
Without a word, Harry swerves at the last second, taking a sharp right down an alleyway that runs parallel to the main road. We all jostle in our seats as he manoeuvres down the narrow space, dodging skips and stray cats.
The rear entrance of Aaron’s building looms ahead. There is no pomp or fanfare here—just a heavy metal door that, to most, would be impenetrable, but not to me. Harry slams on the brakes, and then we stop and stare at the goliath that steps out in front of the van, resting his hand on the bonnet.
With a twisted grin, he shoves, and the van skids back a couple of inches.
“Fuck,” Callum growls. “Fucking Adam. Forgot about him.”
“How in the fuck did you forget about the man built like a fucking mountain?” I hiss as Adam decides this is fun and does it again, pushing a two-tonne van with four, not small, blokes inside back a fraction.
“He’s like the furniture, you know,” Callum says with an amused laugh as we are jostled from side toside now, the suspension creaking under the force. “You don’t really see him unless he wants you to.”
“Like you,” Harry pipes up.
“Jesus,” I growl. “We aren’t getting around him.”
“Then we go through him,” Harry says grimly, clamping his hands around the steering wheel again.
“Oh, bad idea,” I mutter as Adam decides fun time is over and levels a shotgun at us that would blow us out of the park.
“What the fuck do we do now?” Quen asks, his tone bordering on frantic, as if I didn’t know better.
“Duck!” I yell as the shotgun blasts off, smashing the windscreen and covering us all in a million shards of glass.
33
VOGUE
Aaron glaresat my phone ringing on his desk, picks it up, switches it off, and replaces it exactly where it was. “They’re worried about you,” he says.
“No shit. I was abducted.”
“They’ll know it was me.”
I don’t know if that makes me feel better or worse.
Aaron glances away for a moment, and I can tell he’s weighing his words. “Vogue, this isn’t about me trying to step in as your father after all these years. It’s about survival now.” His voice is brisk. “You’re not just some girl from Westfield anymore. You’re a McGowan, and that comes with perks and targets.”
I want to laugh at the absurdity of it all, the ‘perks’ he talks about, but the only thing that seems to be raining down on me is danger from every fucking angle. “I’m a Jameson, first off.”
He slams his fist down on the desk, making me jump. “You’re a McGowan to them.Myblood.”
“So you’re saying I’m a target? Because of yourlast name?” I ask, unable to keep the acid out of my voice.
“That’s exactly what I’m saying,” he confirms grimly. “And if you want to get out of this alive, you need to play by certain rules.”
I lean forward, anger sharpening my response. “And what rules would those be exactly? Obey? Stay silent? If that’s the case, you’re going to be disappointed.” My gaze doesn’t waver from his.
