135: Before You Ruin Me

135: Before You Ruin Me
RUE

I stared at the text until the letters blurred, my throat tight. Three days of ignoring him, and he had the audacity to text me like nothing was wrong?

My thumb hovered, then I shoved a piece of mint gum between my teeth so I wouldn't grind them to dust.

Play it cool, Rue. Don't let him see you get riled up.

I typed back quickly.

'Why didn't you tell me you were taken?'

Bubbles appeared. Vanished. Appeared again. Typical Trouble, he was dramatic even when texting.

Finally, his text came.

'Don't believe in rumors, Ruin.'

Rumors? He called a whole-ass engagement a rumor?

I laughed out loud, the sound humorless. "Unbelievable."

Rolling my eyes, I shoved the phone into the cupholder, started the car, and peeled out of the estate driveway.

But the whole way down the quiet streets, my gut prickled. I could sense the heavy, crawling feeling of being watched.

By the time I hit an empty stretch, I was done playing games. I slammed on the brakes, the tires screeching loud in the silence of the night.

Grabbing my switchblade, I stepped out, the night air icy against my skin.

And there he was.

Leaning against a sleek black car wearing a long black coat, his hair in a low bun.

Trouble.

Of course.

"Really?" I barked across the empty street, my blade glinting under the streetlight. "What gives you the fucking right to stalk me?"

He shrugged. "You ignored me for three days, Ruin. You think I was just going to sit at home and knit?"

My blade gleamed as I stalked closer, fury bubbling in my blood.

"Cut the smug act, Trouble. You think I didn't see it? You—" I jabbed the blade towards his chest, "parading around with Davenport's porcelain doll to announce that she's yours?"

His smirk faltered, but he didn't move. Instead, his eyes caught mine, burning.

"Is that what you think?" His voice went down an octave. "That I'd touch her? That I'd let anyone else call me hers?"

"Don't play me," I snapped. "I saw the pictures. The engagement. The fucking headlines."

He stepped forward until my knife pressed against the solid wall of his chest. And yet, he leaned closer, his breath warm against my face.

"Then maybe you should've read past the headlines, Ruin."

I blinked, caught off guard. "What?"

His metallic eye glinted. "It's not an engagement. It's a contract. A leash. They're trying to shackle me to their empire. That photo?" He scoffed. "Staged. Nothing but a desperate attempt to keep the press from asking questions about why the Romanos and Davenports suddenly play nice."

The ground tilted under me. "You're saying it's fake?"

"I'm saying," his voice turned raw, "the only woman who's had my bed, my time, my goddamn sanity... is standing right in front of me with a knife to my heart."

My breath hitched.

He didn't stop. "And if you believe for one second that I'd choose her over you, then you don't know me at all, Rue Cross."

The street went deadly silent, save for the thunder in my chest.

I hated the way my grip trembled on the blade. I hated the way heat curled low in my stomach.

For one terrifying, intoxicating second, I almost believed him. 

But then Mum's warning rang in my skull.

My breath shuddered, my heart breaking.

No.

I tore my gaze away, shoving the blade back into my pocket before I did something unforgivable. My boots splashed against the cracked pavement as I spun on my heel.

"I can't do this," I rasped.

"Rue—"

"Don't." My voice cracked. "You're my family's enemy. You understand that? I can't want you."

The first cold drop of rain hit my cheek. Then another. And another. Until the heavens broke open, drenching us both in sheets of water.

I kept walking, my fists clenched. But then, his hand caught mine.

I froze.

His grip was firm and desperate. "Don't walk away from me."

My throat tightened. I tried to pull my hand away, but he didn't let go. "Let. Me. Go."

"Not happening." His voice was ragged at this point. "I don't give a damn about the Cross-Romano war. You and me? That's real. Don't you dare run from it."

I whirled on him, my soaked hair plastered to my cheeks, rainwater dripping down my nose. My chest heaved, fury and longing twisting in my gut.

"You think it's that simple?" I shouted, the storm swallowing my words. "My father would put a bullet between your eyes before he let me touch you. My family would burn me alive if they knew. And maybe they should, because God help me, I do want you!"

His eyes widened. "Then stop fighting it."

"I can't!" My voice cracked, the rain getting heavier. "You're the enemy, Trouble! Every part of me says I should cut you out before you ruin me—"

"And yet here you are," he growled, stepping closer, rain pouring off him.

Trouble's hand slid from mine, but only so he could cup my jaw, tilting my face up toward his.

His thumb brushed my cheek, warm even through the icy downpour. My chest rose and fell heavily as if I'd just run a marathon, but I didn't move. I couldn't.

Then his mouth crashed against mine.

The rain poured down, soaking us both, his hands gripping my waist so hard it felt like he was trying to fuse me into him.

I gasped against his lips, and he took the chance to deepen the kiss, his tongue sliding against mine, hot and desperate.

Instinctively, my fists knotted in his drenched shirt, pulling him closer until there was no space left, until the heat of him burned through me.

"Fuck, Rue," he groaned into my mouth, biting my lower lip and sending lightning cracking straight through me.

We both pulled apart at the sound of a loud gunshot.

The sound split the air, sparks flying off the lamppost behind us.

I tore away, my chest heaving, just as another gunshot sounded.

"Fuck," Trouble hissed, spinning and shoving me behind him.

Figures emerged from the shadows with their hoods up, steel flashing in their hands. Five. No…seven. 

Shit. Fifteen.

And worse, they were all aiming for him.

"Romano!" one of them barked, and then the street descended into chaos.

Gunfire, knives, the screech of boots slamming against wet concrete. Trouble lunged forward, taking one down with a brutal punch, his movements agile and lethal even half-soaked.

I had my switchblade out before I could think, slashing across a throat that came too close, spinning with the rain falling into my eyes. My blood sang with adrenaline, my heart pounding fast.

But then, I heard it.

The wet, sickening sound of steel sinking into flesh.

Trouble staggered, a knife buried deep in his side.

"Adrian!" someone shouted, and in the next breath, shadows stepped out of the dark. His men. They swept in like wolves, tearing the attackers away from him.

He swayed, blood dripping down his shirt, his hand reaching blindly…towards me.

"Rue—"

I froze. My hand twitched to take his, but before I could, one of his men seized him, hauling him back toward their car.

"Sir, we have to go!"

He fought them, trying to move towards me. His eyes locked on mine even as his knees buckled. "Ruin—"

They dragged him away, disappearing into the storm, leaving only the copper tang of blood and the groans of dying men behind.

My blade was still warm when I slit the last attacker's throat. His body hit the pavement with a wet smack, and silence descended on the street.

Rain continued to fall, my pulse roaring in my ears while my hands shook.

And still, I stood there…alone. I’d never felt so painfully lonely, it was disgusting.

…

By the time I pulled into the Cross estate, my clothes clung to me, streaked with blood and water. My blade was still in my fist.

The doors opened before I reached them.

Gio stood there, shirtless, his blue eyes widening as his gaze swept over me.

"Rue." He said, slipping into protective brother mode. He does that sometimes, even though I’m the older one.

"What the hell happened?"

I would have sassed him. But I just stood there frozen, struggling with wrapping my head around everything that had happened earlier.

I couldn’t believe I’d been reduced to a cliché romance TV show lead.

I was done with that bullshit.

Pissed, I stormed past my brother and headed straight for my room.

I’d just stepped into my room when Trouble’s text came through.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have left you like that. I put you in danger. It’s all my fault. Maybe you’re right. Maybe, this isn’t going to work between us. Again, I’m sorry.”

I stared at the text for a moment. And then I burst into unhinged laughter.

Really?

He was giving up just like that?

Trouble was mine. I’d rather kidnap him and tie him in my basement than let him go.

There was a knock on the door of my room right then. I quickly grabbed a robe and wrapped it around my body before going to happen to open the door.

And there stood my dad looking terrifyingly pissed.

“Care to explain what’s going on?” He demanded, and I gulped. Well, shit.