Resisting Ruby Rose (The Ruby Rose Series) by Jessie Humphries Page A
Authors: Jessie Humphries
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lie. I opened the file to find three sheets of paper, copies of the same info.
“One for each of you.” Skryker adjusted the air to blow cooler, and I felt it on my face and down my spine. I handed the paper to Liam and Alana before I scanned it myself. A list of bullet points outlined the lies. From no service due to inclement weather and downed telephone lines to Liam being the one responsible for the accidental shooting of Chase.
“Whoa,” I said, slamming the paper on my lap. “You want Liam to take the rap for the shooting? He’s not going to do that.”
“Relax,” Skryker said dismissively. “There will be no charges, no publicity. I’ll take care of everything. The local PD won’t even need to interview Mr. Slater. It was simply an unfortunate accident due to careless teenage shenanigans. It will be reported as such, and nothing more. My sources tell me that Chase is out of surgery and doing well. He’ll be released in a few days, and one of my team members will make sure that he is safe and informed. His parents will be alerted and discreetly persuaded to make nothing further of it. If Sergeant Mathews’s suspicion becomes a problem, let me know and we will find a solution.”
I despised the way he simplified all the horror with a word like shenanigans . Surely he was overlooking a few details. And what did he mean by “discreetly persuaded” and “find a solution”? Chase’s parents and Mathews could never be harmed, though I was fairly sure that’s not what he meant. He was too smart to leave a trail of bodies up the coast of Southern California.
“What about Mathews’s men?” I demanded. “A SWAT team is probably up there right now, combing through all the dead bodies to find their friends.”
“It’s been taken care of,” Skryker said, seemingly gauging my emotional stability with his probing stare. “Those men are no longer MIA. They’ve been found, and they’re safe. Not completely sound, but I’ve taken care of them. They’ll receive a handsome reward for their silence, and they have successfully called off their brothers in arms.”
“So Martinez or his paid guns held them hostage or somethin g . . . and somehow fooled Mathews into believing the surveillance was uninterrupted?” I asked, working through the frayed ends of my understanding.
“Something like that.” Skryker checked his phone, as if something else could have been more important than this.
I couldn’t believe it. Was anyone free from corruption? Could Skryker have so swiftly cleaned up the whole debacle already? I racked my sleep-deprived brain for any loose strands, when one occurred to me—right in front of my eyes.
“What about my car? How am I going to explain that?” I asked.
“ This is your car,” Skryker said flatly.
“What do you mean? This is most definitely not my car.” I looked around just to make sure. I would’ve liked nothing more than for Big Black to be magically resurrected.
“It is now. No one will know the difference. The plates are identical, same make and model. Perhaps the smell of new leather is the only difference. An improvement from the previous overkill of vanilla and piña colada.”
Did he just use the word overkill for my choice of car scents right after he called Chase’s near fatal bullet wound to the head an “unfortunate accident”?
“What about our clothes? We left everything at the cabin, and we’re covered in blood,” Liam piped in.
“Each of you will find a change of clothes and some cleaning supplies in the back. I’ll make sure that your personal itemsfrom the cabin are returned to you and all other evidence is cleaned up accordingly. Do you understand?” Skryker wasn’t just talking to me. He was addressing all three of us. When Liam and Alana failed to acknowledge the question, he reiterated, “Do you understand?”
Both Liam and Alana nodded and offered a weak yes.
“Now, I want you to further understand,” Skryker said, his
“One for each of you.” Skryker adjusted the air to blow cooler, and I felt it on my face and down my spine. I handed the paper to Liam and Alana before I scanned it myself. A list of bullet points outlined the lies. From no service due to inclement weather and downed telephone lines to Liam being the one responsible for the accidental shooting of Chase.
“Whoa,” I said, slamming the paper on my lap. “You want Liam to take the rap for the shooting? He’s not going to do that.”
“Relax,” Skryker said dismissively. “There will be no charges, no publicity. I’ll take care of everything. The local PD won’t even need to interview Mr. Slater. It was simply an unfortunate accident due to careless teenage shenanigans. It will be reported as such, and nothing more. My sources tell me that Chase is out of surgery and doing well. He’ll be released in a few days, and one of my team members will make sure that he is safe and informed. His parents will be alerted and discreetly persuaded to make nothing further of it. If Sergeant Mathews’s suspicion becomes a problem, let me know and we will find a solution.”
I despised the way he simplified all the horror with a word like shenanigans . Surely he was overlooking a few details. And what did he mean by “discreetly persuaded” and “find a solution”? Chase’s parents and Mathews could never be harmed, though I was fairly sure that’s not what he meant. He was too smart to leave a trail of bodies up the coast of Southern California.
“What about Mathews’s men?” I demanded. “A SWAT team is probably up there right now, combing through all the dead bodies to find their friends.”
“It’s been taken care of,” Skryker said, seemingly gauging my emotional stability with his probing stare. “Those men are no longer MIA. They’ve been found, and they’re safe. Not completely sound, but I’ve taken care of them. They’ll receive a handsome reward for their silence, and they have successfully called off their brothers in arms.”
“So Martinez or his paid guns held them hostage or somethin g . . . and somehow fooled Mathews into believing the surveillance was uninterrupted?” I asked, working through the frayed ends of my understanding.
“Something like that.” Skryker checked his phone, as if something else could have been more important than this.
I couldn’t believe it. Was anyone free from corruption? Could Skryker have so swiftly cleaned up the whole debacle already? I racked my sleep-deprived brain for any loose strands, when one occurred to me—right in front of my eyes.
“What about my car? How am I going to explain that?” I asked.
“ This is your car,” Skryker said flatly.
“What do you mean? This is most definitely not my car.” I looked around just to make sure. I would’ve liked nothing more than for Big Black to be magically resurrected.
“It is now. No one will know the difference. The plates are identical, same make and model. Perhaps the smell of new leather is the only difference. An improvement from the previous overkill of vanilla and piña colada.”
Did he just use the word overkill for my choice of car scents right after he called Chase’s near fatal bullet wound to the head an “unfortunate accident”?
“What about our clothes? We left everything at the cabin, and we’re covered in blood,” Liam piped in.
“Each of you will find a change of clothes and some cleaning supplies in the back. I’ll make sure that your personal itemsfrom the cabin are returned to you and all other evidence is cleaned up accordingly. Do you understand?” Skryker wasn’t just talking to me. He was addressing all three of us. When Liam and Alana failed to acknowledge the question, he reiterated, “Do you understand?”
Both Liam and Alana nodded and offered a weak yes.
“Now, I want you to further understand,” Skryker said, his
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