Ryan Rule: New York Ruthless Book 1
Ryan Rule: Chapter 20

The apartment is quiet as I walk along the hallway. It’s after midnight but I can’t sleep. My brain won’t seem to switch off lately. I’m not used to having so little to occupy my time. Seeing the light in Shane’s office, I wander along and knock lightly on the open door.

“What is it, Hacker?” he asks with a scowl as he looks up from his computer screen.

“I was wondering if Conor or the twins were around, that’s all. I didn’t mean to disturb you.”

He runs a hand over his strong jaw as he glares at me. “They’re working. That’s what most of us do around here.”

“Well, I’d like to be working myself if you’d just let me. I’m bored out of my mind here. Isn’t there anything I can help with?” I ask. So far, Shane has barely given me anything to do and I suspect it’s because he doesn’t yet trust me fully.

“I’m not sure the kind of work we’re doing tonight is up your street, Hacker. Go back to bed.”

I don’t move. Instead, I stand in the doorway and stare at him. He’s so damn prickly, but sometimes I enjoy trying to push his buttons. He is hot when he’s angry. “Surely there must be something I can do for you?” I arch an eyebrow at him.

He pushes back his chair so fast that I take a step back in surprise. He stalks across the office towards me. “What do you think this is, Hacker? You think that my brothers are your friends, your fuck-buddies? You have no idea who we are, or what we are capable of. I suggest you remember that the next time you walk around here in the middle of the night looking for trouble,” he growls as he pushes his face close to mine.

I tilt my chin up and stare at him. There is no way I’m going to allow him to intimidate me. “I think I have a pretty good idea of who you and your brothers really are.”

“Oh, really?” he snarls.

“Yes! Really!”

He narrows his eyes at me. “Fine. You want to work for us, Hacker, then it’s time you discover what kind of work we really do,” he snarls as he straightens his jacket. “Come with me.”

I glance down at my bare feet. “Are we going out?”

“We’re not leaving the building. You’re fine. Let’s go.”

I follow him to the elevator, and we wait in silence for it to arrive. I step in first and lean against the wall while he stands opposite me. For a few painful moments, we wait in complete silence with the air in the small space thick with tension. I steal sideways glances at him as he stands there looking good enough to eat in his exquisitely tailored suit and expensive leather shoes. He wears a distinctive cologne. It’s fresh and masculine, and while it’s never overpowering, it lingers in the air and makes my mouth water.

When the elevator stops, I let out the breath I’ve been holding in, and he steps out before me, holding the doors open. We’re in the basement. The sound of the music from the club above and directly next to us thumps through the concrete space. I follow Shane past the line of expensive cars and notice a room that I’ve never seen before. As we approach, Liam and Mikey are standing outside. They frown at us as we draw near.

“What’s up?” Mikey asks as we reach them and he moves to stand directly in front of the door. There is a muffled scream coming from the room, and I look between Mikey and Shane. What the hell is going on here?

“I’ve come to show Jessie here exactly what kind of line of business we’re in, boys. Now step aside.”

Mikey blinks at him in surprise. “But you know he won’t want that. He won’t want Jessie to see him in there.”

“He’s right, Shane,” Liam adds.

“It’s time she learned the truth. Now step away from the fucking door!” Shane snaps and Mikey does so with no further hesitation or resistance.

My heart hammers in my chest as Shane’s fingers curl around the metal handle, because whatever is going on behind that door is something that Conor or the twins obviously don’t want me to witness. The fact that Shane does makes me wonder exactly what his agenda is.

Shane pushes open the door and steps inside, beckoning me to follow him. I walk into the room and instinctively take a deep breath. As I do, the metallic smell of blood hits my nostrils and almost makes me retch. I stumble, but Shane’s strong hand grips my elbow, holding me up. The room is small and dark, with a single lightbulb hanging from the ceiling illuminating the scene before me. There are three men inside, a large wooden table in the middle, and various tools hanging on the walls. It almost looks like a workshop. Except there is a man strapped to the table, and another one on the floor, bleeding out. At least, he looks like he was a man once, but now his face is barely recognizable as human.

The third man is Conor. He stands shirtless and bloodied, holding a sharp scalpel in one hand as he snarls like a demon at the man on the table who screams and pleads for mercy.

Conor barely registers us walking into the room. He is entirely focused on the task in hand – or perhaps he is lost to it. I can’t figure out which it is yet. I stand next to Shane who openly watches me rather than the scene unfolding before us, as though this is some sort of test.

Suddenly, the man on the floor, who I assumed was already dead, moves. His hand jerks out, and he grabs hold of Conor’s ankle. Conor spins around, raises his foot and brings his boot crashing down against the man’s temple, causing his eye to pop out of its socket. Instinctively, I flinch and my hand flies to my mouth to stifle the scream that threatens to come out. I turn to walk out of the room because I don’t need to see this. But Shane grabs hold of my arm and pulls me back, forcing me to stay and watch as Conor turns back to the groaning man on the table and starts to pummel his head and body with his fists. Blood spatters everywhere and I shrink back to avoid getting it on my clothes.

I notice the flicker of a smile cross Shane’s face as he looks at me before turning back to his brother. “I think he’s dead, Con,” he says and Conor turns to us as though he had no idea we were there.

His face is so full of rage that I barely recognize him as the man I’ve come to know. “What the fuck is she doing here?” he snarls as he wipes the blood from his face.

“Our little hacker wanted to see what we did here, and I thought it only fair to show her the kind of men we really are. And, well now she knows.”

Conor looks at me, his eyes narrowed. “You need to get out of here, Jessie. Now.”

I nod in agreement. Shane has well and truly proven his point. “I think I’ve seen enough.”

I turn to walk out while Shane stays behind. “Mikey, take the hacker back up to the apartment,” he shouts through the open doorway.

As soon as I’m out of the door, Shane closes it behind me until only the muffled sounds of his and Conor’s voices can be heard coming from the room. Mikey puts his hand on the small of my back, guiding me back through the basement towards the elevator. My insides are churning. The smell of blood stays in my nostrils and makes me want to throw up. I haven’t witnessed violence like that for a long time, but Shane Ryan is mistaken if he thinks I haven’t seen worse than that before today.

I don’t speak until Mikey and I are in the elevator. “Are they the guys from the club? The ones I pulled the footage on?”

He nods. “That’s what you’ve signed up for, Red.”

“What did they do?”

“It’s a long story. But, ultimately, they disobeyed him. Conor told them never to come back to New York, and they did.”

“I thought you and Liam were the muscle?”

“We are,” he grins at me. “But when someone really pisses us off, we send Shane in. And when we really want to fuck someone up, we send Conor.”

I blink at him. “Conor?”

He smiles at me. “He might lay down like a pussycat and let you rub his tummy, Red, but make no mistake, my big brother is a fucking animal. That’s why they took him and not one of us.”

“Who took him?”

Mikey winces as though he’s said something he shouldn’t. “Not my story to tell, Red,” he says, shaking his head. “He’ll tell you when he’s ready.”

I lie on Conor’s bed and stare at the ceiling, listening to the sound of my breathing and the soft ticking of the clock on his nightstand. Shane’s little excursion earlier did nothing to ease my insomnia. In fact, since I came back to the apartment thirty minutes ago, my stomach has been churning and my mind has been racing.

I sit up with a start as the bedroom door swings open. Conor walks into the room, covered in blood. He glares at me as he sees me sitting on the bed. “What are you doing here?” he snaps.

“Waiting for you,” I say softly.

He sucks in a deep breath and then he just stares at me. After what seems like an eternity, he speaks. “I need to take a shower. Stay here!” he says as he stalks towards the bathroom.

I listen to the sound of the water running as I lie back and wait for him to finish. It’s at least fifteen minutes later when he finally walks out of the bathroom with a white towel wrapped around his waist, sitting just below his perfectly chiseled abs. Walking over to the bed, he sits down beside me.

“He shouldn’t have brought you down there,” he snaps. “I never wanted you to see me like that.”

“Was that the animal you told me about? The one you keep locked away?”

His eyes lock on mine, so dark they look almost black, but he doesn’t answer and there is a pain in them that I know runs deep. It’s the same kind of pain that sometimes stares back at me when I look in the mirror.

“You think I didn’t already know what type of man you are, Conor? You and your brothers practically run New York. I’m not naïve enough to believe that you get to be where you’re at without doing the kind of shit I just saw down there.”

“I’m not that man, Jessie,” he says softly. “Not up here. But… out there, things are different.” He hangs his head low.

“I know that.” I sit up and take one of his hands in mine. “Just because you do bad things, doesn’t mean you’re not a good man.”

“I’m not a good man, Angel. Not even close. But I want to be a better one with you.”

“I think you might be the best man I know,” I say as I reach up and place my hand on his cheek. His beard tickles my palm as he presses his face against it. “You might be a tiger out there, but you’re still my pussycat,” I smile at him.

He looks up and scowls at me, but his eyes twinkle with wicked deviance. “A pussycat?”

“Okay, a tiger cub?” I offer with a flash of my eyebrows.

He springs up cat-like as he dives on me, pinning me to the bed. He rubs his nose along my jawline and a growl rumbles in his throat. “Shane brought you down there to create some distance between us, Angel. He thinks you’re getting too close.”

“And what do you think?” I stare up at him as the weight of his body settles against me and I start to experience the familiar fluttering in my abdomen from his touch.

“I think there’s no such thing as too close when it comes to you, Jessie,” he says as he trails feather light kisses along my throat. Then he looks up at me, his eyes burning into mine. “Do you still want me after what you just saw?”

I curl my fingers through his thick, dark hair. “The more I know you, Conor Ryan, the more I want you.”

“Damn, Angel. You surprise the hell out of me every single day. Just when I think I can’t be into you any more than I already am,” he growls as he nudges my thighs apart with his knee.

“So, you’re into me?” I tease him as I bite my lip and flutter my eyelashes.

“You know I am, and I’m about to get into you even deeper,” he grins wickedly.