Jessie Humphries - Killing Ruby Rose

“Oh, Ruby,” he said. “What did you do?”

I told Liam the whole sordid story, and he just sat there in my bucket seat, staring down the radio dials like they’d done something horrible to him. Or maybe it was the heater vents. Oops, he was probably sweating in the hot car. I was still cold from being in the dirtiest part of the Pacific Ocean. I turned down the heater, and my seat warmer up. Damn, I wanted out of this car and into a hot shower, but Liam deserved to know what had happened.

I wondered when Liam was going to yell at me. Ask questions. Storm off to the police station. Or any other rational response.

“Liam, I’m really sorry I didn’t wait for you. I was impatient and cocky, and maybe in the back of my mind I felt like you didn’t deserve to be dragged any further into this mess.” I slammed my head back onto the headrest. “I win the contest for Most Screwed-Up Girl and Idiot of the Year.”

I flinched as his fist connected with the dash. Out of all the reactions I could’ve foreseen, that wasn’t one of them.

I gripped my armrest, unsure of what he might do next. I’d never seen this side of him. He was furious.

“Yeah, Ruby, maybe I’m a little pissed that you went to see Sammy without me. And maybe I think you’re absolutely crazy for hunting down this guy alone. But what I’m the most upset about is the danger this dick, Silver, is putting you in. You could have died!” he raised his voice like I wouldn’t get the message at a normal volume.

“Relax, Liam.” I slid my hand halfway over the console between us. “I didn’t die. I’m right here.”

He saw my gesture (which was no little thing for me) and was quiet for a few moments. Taking a deep breath, he grabbed my hand and squeezed it in both of his. “Ruby, this guy is smart and patient. He knew you would go to the boat dock. He had it all planned out. He made it so that either you had to watch the priest die or risk yourself to save him. He obviously told the priest that you were dangerous to ensure the priest would fight back and you’d have to kill him in self-defense. Then he lured you away so he—or his accomplice—could go back and take the body and leave the priest’s shirt, knowing you’d call the cops. He’s not trying to get you caught. It’s almost like he’s trying to protect you.” As he said it, some of the puzzle pieces started shuffling around in my mind, but they weren’t fitting neatly into place.

I pulled my hands away and slumped back in my seat, massaging my sore head. “If that’s true, then he has split personalities or something. First, he puts me in these dangerous situations, forcing me to kill, and then he defends me and cleans up to make sure I could never be prosecuted. The dude gave me back my dad’s engraved handgun! Why would he do that?”

“I don’t know, but no matter what, it’s like he’s ten steps ahead of us.” Liam paused and pursed his lips. “I know you don’t like it, but I think it’s time to go to the police, Ruby. Maybe Sammy was right and Detective Martinez would back us up if he knew what was going on with your dad.”

“No.” I stared at him. “No, no, and no.”

“Things are getting out of control—”

“Things have long been out of control, Liam. I have killed, or been responsible for…” I stopped to count with my fingers. “Seven deaths now. Seven!”

“That’s not true,” he argued.

“LeMarq, the girl I didn’t save, The Stick and his friend, the two other gangsters…or whoever they were…and now Father Michael. How would I ever be able to explain that?”

He blew out a breath, and clenched his hair in his fists.

“You aren’t responsible for any of those deaths. He is,” Liam said. Who was he trying to persuade? Himself?

“ He didn’t make me carry that knife. He didn’t force me to pull any triggers,” I said, playing prosecutor. “ I put myself in those positions. I am the one with motive, intent, and—worst of all—very little remorse for the victims. ”

“Ruby, he put you in impossible situations. And in every single case, you did the right thing. Every one of them deserved to die, except for the girl. But now the right thing is to tell the authorities. Maybe the FBI or CIA can help.” He reached for me again, but I didn’t want his touch. I put up my signature warning hand.

“Yeah, so they can help destroy my family and escort the both of us to prison for the rest of our lives,” I said, my voice rising an octave. “No matter who we go to, it all trickles back down to the detective assigned to my case—Martinez. And if Sammy was wrong about Martinez, he’ll take you down with me. Because, as you recall, you were present for some of this.”

“Don’t worry about me. I can take care of myself. I’ve been doing it all my life. Believe me, I can handle whatever the police throw at me,” he said with a weird smirk.

“What are you talking about?” I asked. I glanced over at his disfigured ear.

“Never mind. I didn’t mean that literally,” he said, shaking his head—a move I now knew he did to make sure his hair covered his scar. “I just meant that we have no choice but to trust the system—”

“What happened to you?” I cut him off. He knew my secrets. It was time for me to know some of his.

He glared at me with how dare you eyes, but I held his gaze like we were having a blinking contest. “Liam, c’mon, you know I won’t say a word—”

“I have a record, OK? A juvenile record, that is. It’s sealed, and supposed to be expunged or erased, or whatever, when I turn eighteen next year. But it exists. And somehow Martinez knows about it. That’s what he was talking to me about that night he came to your door. He warned me to stay out of this, and away from you, or else he’d make sure my record got longer.”

“What?” I lost the blinking contest. “Back up. What did you do?”

“It was a long time ago, Ruby. I’ve never told anyone about it.”

“Are you freaking kidding me? Whatever you did can’t compare to what you’ve witnessed me do,” I said, irritated that he was holding back when things were so lopsided in the bad-deeds department.

“I nearly killed my father,” he said point-blank, staring at his hands as if they might still have blood on them.

“Because he did that to you?” Not only did I ask the question we’d been avoiding for weeks, but I actually reached over and touched his ear. At first he flinched away, but then he hung his head and let me move his hair aside to run my fingertips along the disfigured skin. I could feel him cringing as I prodded his head to the side to allow the blue light of my console to shine on the scarring. My heart ached for Liam’s embarrassment, and it burned for the father that had done this to him.

“Well, yeah, I reacted to defend myself from him, but really to protect my mom and brothers.” Before he looked away, I saw that his eyes were now full of sorrow and rage. “He used to abuse her right in front of us, our whole lives. He’d come home wasted, knock her around, call her every name in the book, accuse her of things—and if my brothers or I got in the way, we got it, too.”

“You have brothers?” I asked, wondering how I didn’t know this.

“Christian is twelve, and Tug is only eight.”

“Tug? That’s his name?”

“Well, his real name is Tomas, but my mom always says ‘If you’re not careful, he’ll tug your heart right out,’ ” Liam said, smiling painfully and looking out into the night. “Not to mention your arms if you don’t take him surfing when he wants.”

“Good to know,” I said, hoping I’d get the chance to meet them someday.