Chapter 6: Micah - Keeping Knight

I think the solarium might be my new favorite room.

Or at least it is when Ruby is in it.

As I stand in the doorway, mug of steaming tea in hand, I watch her in silence.

She’s sitting on the same couch we used yesterday morning when I brought her here after her nightmare. Her legs are tucked up beneath the Army sweatshirt I lent her, and her hair spills in damp ringlets down her back. In profile, her features are pensive. Her teeth dig into her lower lip, and she tugs on one of her curls, a little habit I’ve noticed she does whenever she’s feeling anxious.

On the floor in front of her is Sampson, who’s stuck to her like glue ever since she arrived. He’s mostly relaxed, but his ears are pricked back, alert to any sign of a threat. Ruby leans over to give his head a scratch, and his tail thumps happily. He turns to look at her, and though I can’t see his expression from here, I’d bet anything he’s giving her his very best please pet me look.

Ruby pats his head again, then scratches behind his ears. His tail thumps more enthusiastically. “You like that?” she asks him quietly. “Is that the spot?”

He flicks a glance back at her, as if to say, Duh. Didn’t you notice my tail?

“Okay,” she says with a little laugh. “Behind the ears it is.”

I know I should tell Ruby I’m here. There’s a reason I came looking for her, and it wasn’t to stand in the doorway of the solarium like a stalker. Not to mention, I think she’d prefer if I give her the tea before it’s lukewarm.

But it’s just so nice, seeing her here.

It feels strangely right.

In truth, I wasn’t sure how I’d feel about having Ruby stay at my condo. It wouldn’t have made any difference, because once she accepted my offer, I wouldn't dream of going back on it. But I haven’t lived with anyone else in over a decade. I haven’t even had a woman stay over since I moved here. Aside from the few times a year that my parents come to visit, it’s just me and Sampson, and I haven’t minded at all.

No, she hasn’t been here long—only two nights and a little over a day in total. But already she fits like she’s been here much longer.

The condo feels more alive with her here. She brings a softness that I didn’t realize was missing.

And I like taking care of her. Making her oatmeal and soup and overcooked pasta and pudding—all things that won’t hurt her poor, injured throat. Brewing tea that I ordered from the specialty tea shop in Chinatown that’s supposed to stimulate healing and buying arnica ointment for her to use on her bruises. Sitting with her, watching the sunrise, and quietly talking about everything and anything. Rushing to her side when she has a nightmare and reassuring her that everything will be okay.

I thought I was just bringing Ruby here for protection. But I find myself wanting to give her so much more than that.

As I watch Ruby pet Sampson—her hair glowing like fire as the sun hits it—I’m struck by the memory of something my mom said to me. It was a couple of Christmases ago, and I’d taken a few days off work to visit my parents in Potomac. We were sitting around the tree on Christmas Eve, and she suddenly looked at me and said, “I know you don’t think you want to be with someone, Micah. But when you meet the right woman, all that talk about staying single will fly right out the window. Trust me. It happened to me when I met your dad. And it’ll happen to you one day, too.”

At the time, I just agreed to humor her. But ever since I met Ruby, I’ve wondered if my mom could have been right.

Interrupting my wandering thoughts, my watch vibrates with an incoming message. Switching the mug to my other hand, I lift my left wrist to read the text.

It’s from Houdini.

Ready when you are. Want to meet at your place or there?

Houdini is going over to Ruby’s apartment with me for the dual purpose of setting up hidden security cameras and packing up the list of things Ruby wants from there. My plan was to go over yesterday for her personal items, but I was hesitant to leave her after the nightmare and the stress of our meeting.

But I can’t expect Ruby to keep wearing my clothes, no matter how much I enjoy seeing her in them. And we need to get the cameras up as part of our plan—we’re going to install hidden cameras inside and outside her apartment, and intentionally leave only the doorknob locked, in hopes that her attacker might come back again.

Oh, and we’re setting up smart plugs so the lamps will come on automatically to make it look like she’s home. Plus a special soundtrack that includes normal day-to-day sounds—running water, dishes clinking, the TV playing—that will add to the illusion.

Will it work? Who knows. The attacker could decide it’s too risky to come after Ruby at her apartment again. Or he could be really determined and try for a second time. That’s what I’m hoping, because if he does, we’ll get him.

Using my finger, I scribble a quick reply to Houdini.

Meet here. Half hour work?

A few seconds pass before his response appears.

See you then.

With that decided, I clear my throat to signal I’m here. Given how jumpy Ruby’s been—which is absolutely understandable—I’ve been trying to make some kind of sound whenever I walk into a room she’s already in.

Still, she jolts at the sound. As she turns, I don’t miss the flicker of fear in her eyes that disappears once she realizes it’s me. “Sorry,” I say. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

Ruby smiles. “Oh, you didn’t.”

“A little,” I press.

“Startled,” she clarifies. “And that’s not your fault. I don’t expect you to creep around like a ghost.”

I walk across the room and sit on the couch beside her. Then I hold out the tea. “I thought you might like some. I added honey, so hopefully it’ll taste better this time.”

Her nose crinkles. “Is that the special healing tea?”

“It is. Do you really hate it?”

“I don’t hate it,” she replies. “I’m not sure I’d say I love it. But if it helps my throat heal faster…”

“Rogue said it would. He’s the one who researched it. So if you hate it, you should really blame him, and not me.”

Ruby stares at the tea. Then she lifts the mug to her mouth and takes a sip. After a moment, she says, “Okay, the honey makes it a lot better.”

“Good.” I glance at the bruises on her face and neck. I checked them earlier, when we were having our morning coffee, but now that we’re in the bright light of the mid-morning sun, I’d like to take another look.

Well, like might not be the best word to describe it. Looking at her bruises makes me feel like punching something. Ideally, the face of the man who hurt her. But I need to keep tabs on Ruby’s healing, which means I have to look at her bruises, anyway.

Without thinking, I brush my fingers across the ones at her throat. And shit, is her skin soft. I know I shouldn’t be thinking about something like that right now, but the more time Ruby’s here, the harder it is to ignore my attraction to her.

“I think the arnica is helping,” Ruby says, her amber gaze meeting mine. “Thank you for suggesting it. I’ve never used it before.”

“I learned about it when I was doing my medical training,” I reply.

Ruby regards me as thoughts work in her eyes. “You really can do everything, can’t you?”

I laugh. “Everything? Hardly.”

“A lot. You’re a medic, and you train dogs to do all these cool things, and I bet you know how to kill a person fifty different ways with just your hands. Plus, you’re a pretty good cook.” She flashes me a teasing smile. “Maybe not beef Wellington level yet, but pretty good.”

Chuckling, I ask, “Kill a person fifty different ways with my hands? I don’t remember saying that.”

Her cheeks go pink. “I was reading about Delta Force on my phone last night. And one of the articles said you guys have to train to take down a tango—that’s the right word, isn’t it?—bare-handed.”

“Those articles aren’t entirely accurate, you know. Because most of what we did was confidential. I couldn’t tell anyone what I did. Not even my family.”

“I know. Another article said that. About the confidentiality. But.” Interest brightens Ruby’s expression. “Can you?”

“Kill someone fifty different ways? Probably.” Belatedly, I realize maybe that’s not the best admission to make to a woman I’m having feelings for. Especially not one who was violently attacked less than forty-eight hours ago. “Not that I would. Not now. And I never hurt anyone who wasn’t a threat to my team or our mission. Never an innocent.”

Ruby touches my hand. “I know, Micah. I was just asking because… Well.”

“Well, what?”

“Well, I was wondering if you could teach me some self-defense? Not to kill anyone,” she adds quickly. “But to disable an attacker.” She catches her lip between her teeth again. “I felt so helpless the other night. I just didn’t have the strength to fight him off. I guess I was just thinking if you could teach me some things, it might make me feel safer.”

Though I hate the very idea of Ruby feeling like she’d have to defend herself, I understand why she’s asking. And she’s right. “I can teach you some things.”

“Today?”

“You’re still healing⁠—”

“Just easy things.” Ruby widens her eyes at me. “Please?”

Well, shit. When she looks at me like that, I can’t say no. “Okay. Later, we’ll go over a couple of very simple moves. But first, I have to head over to your apartment. Get those cameras set up. And I’ll grab all the things on your list. Did you think of anything else to add?”

Her forehead creases for a second. “No, I think that was everything.”

“Okay.” I give Ruby’s hand a gentle squeeze. “You can text if you remember anything. And while I’m gone, Jester will be here. Not that I think anything’s going to happen. I just thought you might feel more comfortable having company.”

And if I have to deal with a little jealousy, knowing that my very charming friend will be spending time with Ruby? I guess that’s motivation to get the job done faster.

“Jester is nice,” Ruby says. “Although he might try to get me to play a prank on you.”

Even better. My charming friend conspiring with Ruby while I’m gone. “If you insist,” I reply. “Just no plastic wrap over the toilet seat, please.”

Ruby giggles. “I won’t. I promise.” Then she squeezes my hand back. “Be careful while you’re gone, okay? I don’t want anything happening to you.”

My heart thunks unevenly. Warmth spreads through my chest. “I’ll be careful.”

* * *

“Do you think it was the ex-boyfriend?”

Houdini’s expression is solemn as he glances at me. “Motive’s there,” he adds. “The guy’s thinking he’s going to manipulate her into spending all this money on him, and then she cuts him off. Now he’s pissed, feeling rejected… people have killed for less.”

My jaw clenches. My hands instinctively ball into fists. I had an idea that Ruby’s ex was bad news, but after what she told us about him yesterday, there’s no doubt about it. The opportunistic asshole saw a vulnerable woman still grieving for her dad and had no qualms about taking advantage of her. Then he tried to push her into spending her money on him, going as far as taking her damn credit card. And while Ruby denied that her ex threatened her when she broke up with him, I’d put money on it not going well.

Is that motive to kill her, though? I’m not sure.

“It’s possible,” I reply. Sidestepping an oblivious jogger headed straight at me, I wait until he’s gone before continuing, “Revenge is a powerful motivator. The only thing I’m getting stuck on is the money part of it. Which is more important? Revenge or money?”

“True,” Houdini allows.

As we continue down the sidewalk towards Ruby’s apartment building, a young woman notices Houdini approaching and clutches her bag to her chest. Fear flickers across her face, and she ducks her head as she hurries past us.

Houdini frowns at her retreating back. It’s not the first time a woman’s been intimidated by his size, but I know it still bothers him. They see this six-foot-seven guy with tattoos and a watchful gaze, and they assume that means he’s dangerous. Which, to get technical about it, he is. All of us can be, if we have to. But I’ve known Houdini for close to ten years, and in all of that time, he’s never treated a woman with anything but respect. And, like me, he’d never hurt someone without a damn good reason.

“Anyway,” Houdini says. “You have a good point. If Ruby’s ex still thinks there’s a chance of getting money from her, it eliminates the motive. Unless…”

I know what he’s thinking, because I’ve thought it myself. “Unless he never planned to kill her. And the attack was meant to be a ploy to get her back. He breaks in, or he convinces a friend to do it, roughs her up, and then, when she’s scared and hurt, he swoops in as the hero and offers to let her stay with him.”

The only flaw in that plan is how close Ruby came to dying. As she said, she was on the verge of unconsciousness before I scared her attacker away. What if I hadn’t shown up? Would he have stopped in time?

“Hopefully, the piece of shit will show up again,” Houdini replies. “We set the trap, bait it with the promise of Ruby being back at her apartment, and then, when he comes back, we can ID him.”

“More than ID him.” My jaw tightens again. “When we find this guy, I’ll be having a word with him before we turn him over to the police. A private word.”

And if my fist happens to accompany that? All the better.

Houdini jerks his chin. “Sounds good to me. What he did to her…” Anger hardens his features. “It makes me sick.”

I puff out a breath to relieve some of the fury boiling up inside me. “Same.” As her apartment building comes into sight, I add, “Even if this doesn’t work, we’ve still got options. Rogue has his team searching the security cameras in the close vicinity. Businesses nearby, traffic cameras… if we can find a pattern, or maybe her ex pops up right around the time of the attack…”

“Or we discover someone else was behind it,” he adds. “I didn’t like how Ruby said she and her stepmom weren’t close. It could be nothing⁠—”

“Or it could be something,” I finish. “But for Ruby’s sake, I hope it isn’t. Not when her stepmom is the closest family she has left.”

Which sucks. I might not always agree with everything my parents say or do, and we’ve definitely had our conflicts over the years, but they’re my family. If they ever need something, I’d be there in a second. And I know they’d do the same for me.

But poor Ruby… When she said she didn’t have anyone to be strong for her, it hurt my heart. And it kicked all my protective instincts into overdrive. I don’t want Ruby to have to handle everything on her own. Rational or not, I want to swoop in and take care of everything for her.

When we reach the door to Ruby’s apartment building, I pull out her access card and swipe it past the security keypad. Once the little access light turns green, I pull the door open and walk inside, with Houdini close behind.

It feels odd being here without Ruby. As we head into the lobby, I’m hit with a jolt of nostalgia. I liked walking Ruby home, lingering in the lobby to chat, and on one occasion, walking up to her apartment with her to help carry the library books she’d borrowed before class. As the weeks passed, Tuesday nights turned into my favorite part of the week.

Will things go back to the way they used to, I wonder, once things with Ruby’s attacker are resolved? Will she want to go back to class? Will she want to stay in the city at all? Or will Ruby decide to move somewhere quieter? Safer?

I know I don’t want her to leave. As for things going back to the way they used to be? That, I’m not as sure about. Maybe I don’t want to go back to just friends. Maybe I want more.

As Houdini heads towards the elevator, a tall man with shaggy blonde hair emerges from the stairwell across from it. I recognize him as the neighbor who called 911 the night of Ruby’s attack. He glances at Houdini and says, “I wouldn’t use the elevator. Not unless you want to risk getting stuck in there.”

Houdini gives the man a quick nod in acknowledgement. “Lovely,” Houdini comments dryly once the man passes by. “Nice place, here.”

But the building isn’t bad. Not really. It’s on the older side, and some of the finishes are a little worn, but it’s got good bones, as my dad likes to say. The lobby is clean and well-lit. When I first saw Ruby’s apartment, with the original wood accents and floors, I could understand why it appealed to her. Unlike my modern condo, there’s history here.

At least I could see the appeal. Now, I’d be happy if Ruby never lives here again.

As we enter the stairwell, I say, “When we get inside, I’ll start out by packing up her things. Can you work on the interior cameras?”

“Of course.” Houdini pauses. “Probably better if you handle the ones on the fire escape and the hallway. You’ll attract less attention than me.”

He’s right. I’ll have to be careful enough myself to avoid attracting undue attention. But if Houdini goes out there… “No problem. Whoever finishes with the cameras first can work on setting up the audio and automatic lights.”

“That’s smart,” he says. “Having all the normal day-to-day sounds coming from her apartment. And with the lights, it’ll really look like she’s in there.”

With my hand on the handle of the fourth-floor door, I glance back at him. “You ready?”

Houdini nods. “Let’s do this.” Then he smirks. “I know you’re eager to finish and get back to your place. See how a certain redhead is doing.”

I’m more eager than I’d like to admit. But I don’t say that. Instead, I reply dryly, “Jester’s probably roping her into a half-dozen pranks as we speak.”

Then I push the door open and head into the hallway. It’s empty, save for us, which I’m glad about. Not that seeing another resident would be a problem, exactly, but if they see us letting ourselves into Ruby’s apartment, there’ll be questions, and it’ll just be easier to avoid them.

“She’s in 416,” I say. Reaching into my pocket, I take out Ruby’s key. I’m glad I thought to grab it before we left for the hospital the other night. Houdini could pick the lock, but it’ll be simpler if we don’t have to.

“I guess it’s not too bad,” Houdini concedes. He scans the hallway, which has worn checkerboard tile on the floor and bronze lamps beside each door. His voice lowers. “Aside from the whole breaking in through the fire escape part.”

“Yeah,” I mutter. “That definitely takes away the appeal.”

When we reach Ruby’s door, I don’t unlock it immediately. First, I give it a thorough once-over to see if the contractor I hired installed it properly. I paid extra to have the broken door replaced while I was still at the hospital with Ruby, along with the compromised living room window.

Everything looks to be in order. The doorknob is new and shiny. So are the hinges. And the wood is almost the same shade as the one I destroyed, which is good, since I don’t want anyone giving Ruby a hard time about her door matching the others.

I slide the key into the deadbolt first, turning it until I can feel the bolt slide clear. Then I start to unlock the doorknob, and I’m just about to turn the handle when Houdini’s hand grips my shoulder hard.

“Wait.” His tone carries an urgency that immediately makes me stop what I’m doing.

“Why?” I ask as I turn to face him. “What’s wrong?”

His gaze is wary. His features are more solemn than I’ve seen them in years. “Just a feeling,” he says. “Something’s wrong. I can’t explain it. I just⁠—”

I drop my hand from the doorknob. “Did you see something?”

“No.” Houdini’s forehead creases. “It’s not that.” He jerks his chin in a gesture for me to move aside. Then he leans his ear close to the door, just as I did the other night. “I don’t hear anything. But my gut…”

If Houdini says his gut is telling him something, I believe him. “We won’t walk inside right away,” I suggest. “We’ll open the door and hang back. See if someone’s inside.”

He hesitates. “Okay. Just get clear of the door as soon as you open it.”

In case someone is waiting inside for us.

“Alright.” I adjust the bag I have slung over my shoulder and take my switchblade from my pocket, turning it in my right hand so it’s ready to flip open. Then I grasp the door handle with my left and slowly twist it open.

As soon as the latch clicks, I shove the door open and dart to the side.

For a split-second, there’s nothing.

Then a burst of fire explodes from inside.

A surge of heat pushes into the hallway.

The blast knocks both of us backward, and my back slams into the opposite wall.

Shards of wood fly at my face, and I throw up my arm to protect it.

Something hot and wet trickles down my forehead and into my eye.

For a moment, my breath is stolen from me.

“Get clear!” Houdini yells. He grabs my arm and nearly pulls it from its socket as he yanks me down the hallway. “Fucking trap. I don’t know how he did it. But he set a fucking trap for us.”

As I blink away the blood blurring my vision, I look at Ruby’s doorway, with flames licking all around it. “Not for us,” I reply. “For her.”