Page 2 of Bad Ruck

Apparently not Ferris Ramsey.

He lowered himself to the centre of a picnic bench, hands on either side of him, posture relaxed, as if he was discussing which dog he might adopt. Or maybe a cat. He seemed like a cat person to me. Secretive and cute but deadly.

"I've been trying to convince Otis Skinner I'm working with him. With full knowledge of thosewework for. Skinner and I were making plans. Nothing any of you need to know about, but something I was going to fuck with later. Dallas overheard us. He made assumptions. I had to convince Otis he was working with us too."

My blood ran cold. "How?" What the hell had he done?

"By sending Dallas to give a message to a contact of mine. He shouldn't have taken this long." Ramsey dropped his head and shook it. Now he appeared rattled.

"Fuck," Storm growled. "If Otis wasn't fooled…"

"Dallas could be dead," I whispered.

I immediately regretted saying the words out loud. My heart thudded painfully.

I told myself I wouldn't cry, but I found my eyes damp anyway. He couldn't be dead. If he was, I'd… I'd be shattered.

The thought of losing any of my guys was a stab right through my soul. Had I told him that? Did I make him understand how much he meant to me? All I could think right now was that I'd left so many words unsaid. Too many.

Frost slipped an arm around my shoulders and gently pulled me to him. "There's probably some logical explanation. He might have gotten sidetracked by something perfectly innocent. Maybe he went to buy you a big box of chocolates. Or a new knife."

He sounded so certain. So convincing. I wanted to believe all of it, badly.

"You really think so?" I sniffed.

It was possible, I conceded that much, but was he right?

Honestly, I wished I believed he was. In reality, this was Dusk Bay. Dallas could easily be dead or missing, never to be seen again. Quietly disposing of corpses was something far too many people in this city were good at, including my brother. Making people disappear was an occupational necessity.

"I absolutely think so," Frost said, with unwavering conviction. "Dallas knows how much you like chocolate, and your period is due in a couple of days."

I turned my head to stare at him.

He smiled and shrugged. "We pay attention to these things. How else are we supposed to make sure you have everything you need?"

"That's sweet," I said. I should have known they were all over that.

"Exactly," Frost said. "Have you tried to call him?"

"A couple of times," I said. "It went to voicemail. I thought he might have been driving, but he…" I didn't know how to finish that sentence. Ultimately, I didn't need to. They all knew what the possibilities were.

"I'll try." Storm pulled out his phone and tapped the screen. He put the device to his ear and frowned. "Hey, Tex, where the fuck are you? Call me back." He ended the call and shoved his phone back into his pocket. "Voicemail."

"He might have his phone switched to silent," Jay suggested. "I always do, because the only people who call these days are scammers and telemarketers."

"Aren't those the same thing?" Frost asked.

"Close enough," Jay agreed. "Either way, I don't answer my phone unless I feel it ringing, and know the person. Even then, I have to be in the mood to talk to them."

"Dallas wouldn't ignore Chelsea," Frost said. "Unless he didn't hear his phone. It makes sense that he might have it turned off. Mine is off too."

"Mine too," Atlas said.

"I have to keep mine on in case of emergencies," I said. But I got it. I also didn't answer calls if I didn't know the number. At least, not if they weren't local. I had no reason to think anyone from Edinburgh would call me. Or Azerbaijan. I pulled out my own phone and sent off a couple of texts to Dallas.

Call me.

Or text me back.

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