Page 4 of Freeing Ruby

After a quick trip back to my apartment to pack a bag, I head to the address Shane gave me. When I arrive at an older red-brick apartment building, I drive around back and park in the visitor section. It’s not a big building. It looks to be four apartments wide, three floors high, front and back units. Twenty-four units in all. The rear parking lot is pretty well kept. There’s no trash lying around or weeds busting through the pavement. Beyond the parking lot is a small neighborhood park.

I sit for a few minutes in my car and study the building. Three floors, wooden balconies for each of the rear units. From what I can see, it looks like a decent place. It might be on the older side, but it looks well kept, at least from the outside.

A moment later, a sleek, black Mercedes pulls into the parking lot and slips into the open space beside me. Edward McCall gets out of his car and waves when he sees me doing the same.

I nod in greeting as I grab my duffle bag. “Mr. McCall.”

He chuckles. “Please, call me Edward.” He heads for the rear door. “This way.”

I follow him up the cement walkway and wait while he presses an intercom button. There’s a loud buzz followed by a lengthy silence.

He frowns and pushes the button again. “Come on, kiddo. Answer the intercom.” He gives me an apologetic smile. “Having a stranger come over is really pushing her outside her comfort zone.”

A moment later, a wary female voice says, “Yes?”

“Ruby, honey, it’s Edward. I’m here with Miguel from the security company.”

She hesitates a moment before saying, “All right.” She sounds resigned and far from happy about it.

The lock buzzes, and McCall opens it and motions for me to step inside. The interior is cool, a pleasant contrast to the warm summer air heating up outside. The place smells faintly of disinfectant and lemon-scented floor polish. I follow McCall up the stairs to the second floor.

We stop in front of an apartment marked 2B.

McCall knocks on the door. “Ruby, honey, it’s Edward.”

When several seconds pass with nothing but silence on the other side of the door, McCall glances at me. “This isn’t easy for her,” he murmurs. “Please be patient with her. Take things slowly and work on gaining her trust. She doesn’t give it easily.” Edward knocks again. “Ruby, it’s okay, honey. Please open the door.”

I hear the quiet, tell-tale snick of a deadbolt turning. Then another. And another. Three deadbolts. The door opens a crack, stopped from opening any farther by a chain lock. The gap is just enough that I can see one pretty blue eye gazing warily through the opening. She glances at her godfather first, then at me. Her eye widens as she scans me from head to toe.

I can only imagine what she’s thinking. I’m a big guy, tall, and dark. I know I can come across as intimidating to those who don’t know me.

“Hi, Ruby,” I say, giving her my most nonthreatening smile. “I’m Miguel. It’s nice to meet you.”

The door closes abruptly, and then I hear the chain slide free. When the door opens once more, McCall slowly pushes it wide open and motions for me to step inside.

Immediately, my gaze lands on a young woman with long, wavy red hair, a pale complexion, and a light smattering of freckles across her cheeks and the bridge of her nose. Her eyes are clear blue.

My heart slams into my ribs, and I can’t look away.

The first word that comes to mind is otherworldly. She’s stunning and delicate, like an angel or a fairy. Immediately, I find myself having to tamp down anger. If someone is stalking this girl—terrorizing her—I will find him, and I will end him.

Chapter 3

Miguel

I realize I must be doing a shitty job of concealing my emotions because Ruby takes a sudden step back. She’s standing in the middle of a small living room, her arms crossed over her chest, her hands gripping her arms tightly. She’s pretty much white-knuckling it. I catch a glimpse of a large, square-cut red gemstone on her ring finger. A ruby. It looks old, like an heirloom piece, and immediately I think it must have been her mother’s.

As soon as Edward clears the threshold behind me, Ruby rushes forward to close the door, engage all three deadbolts in quick succession, and slide the chain lock back into place. When she turns to face us, her soft cheeks are splotched with pink. Her eyes are wide as they glance from McCall to me and back again.

In an attempt to stop staring at the girl—and probably scaring her to death—I scan what I can see of the apartment from my current vantage point. It’s small and outdated, but clean and uncluttered. The furniture all looks secondhand.

The living room is barely big enough for an old brown corduroy sofa against the back wall and one upholstered armchair. There’s an older wooden coffee table in front of the sofa. A matching end table stands between the sofa and chair, holding a brass lamp.

There’s a tiny kitchen to my left, with original cabinetry painted white. The kitchen counters are bare and uncluttered. To my right is a hallway that I presume leads to a bedroom or two and a bathroom. The walls are covered with faded wallpaper in a floral print, small peach-colored flowers on a cream background. The wallpaper reminds me of my grandma’s house. The wood floors are dull and scuffed in places, the polyurethane coat having worn off years ago. A few small tapestry rugs are scattered about.

Since Ruby’s apartment is located at the rear of the building, there are windows in the kitchen and living room overlooking the back of the building. A sliding glass door leads out to a balcony filled with plants. The dining room is filled with plants, too. I guess if you can’t go outside, you bring a little bit of the outside to you.

After a quick visual sweep, I turn my attention back to my new client. She’s a little above average height for a woman. She’s dressed in a light-colored floral dress with a scooped neckline that reveals delicate collar bones. Over the dress, she’s wearing an oversized cream-colored knit sweater. She’s not wearing any shoes, just a pair of gray socks. Her red hair hangs past her shoulders.

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