Riskier Business (Crossing the Line 0.5)(22)

…

Ruby tried not to scrutinize her long-lost uncle too closely as she lined up a shot on the seven ball. Theirs had not been a tearful, Oprah-style reunion. Oh no. After they’d flipped a coin to determine who would break the first rack, there had been zero interaction between them. In order to win, she needed to best him at least three out of five games. So far, they’d each won two, making this the final game to decide the winner.

Something about her game was decidedly off. She knew it, and based on Bowen’s and her father’s tense expressions, they knew it, too. Those two lost games should have been hers, no question. Her uncle had a decent technique, but no heart. No instinct. She’d beat better players than him before with very little effort. She couldn’t help feeling distracted, though. Her uncle…something about him filled her with a sense of dread, but she couldn’t name the cause. Ruby never forgot a face, so she knew they had never met, but he looked so damn familiar. It didn’t make any sense.

The seven ball just missed the side pocket and she heard her father hiss behind her. Bowen frowned at the table, looking confused. No wonder. That hadn’t been a difficult shot. Struggling to keep the panic from her face, Ruby leaned against the wall and focused on Troy. He smiled at her, no visible worry on his face, his confidence in her unwavering. A lump formed in her throat, regret washing over her. She suddenly wished she’d never agreed to this. Look at what you’ve done. Put Troy, Bowen, and yourself in danger, all for a woman who never wanted anything to do with you.

At that moment, she wanted to be at home, stretched out beside Troy in their bed, so badly her chest ached with the desire. As if sensing her regretful thoughts, Troy nodded calmly, miraculously steadying her enough to draw a deep breath and focus. An odd look crossed Troy’s face then as he dug his phone out of his pocket. Ruby didn’t have time to speculate on who would be calling or texting him now, because her uncle missed a bank shot to sink the eleven ball, sending her back to the table.

Focus, Ruby. Three shots and you’re out. Put the seven in the side like you should have done before. Use a little right-hand English to send the cue ball down to the opposite end of the table, giving you a corner shot on the three. The eight was a tough shot before, up against the rail, but he just did you a favor by knocking it out. You’ve accomplished run-outs way more complicated than this. Get out of your head now and win this motherf*cker.

She leaned over the table, ready to take her shot. One of Robert’s men made a loud, disgusting smooch noise. It set her teeth on edge, but she ultimately ignored it. She’d dealt with worse in the past. Troy, however, didn’t seem capable of letting it pass.

“Ruby.” Troy’s deep voice behind her caused her to straighten and turn. At once, the already-thick tension in the room tripled. He took a step toward her. “Let’s go. We’re out of here.”

“W-what? I—”

Red-faced, her father jumped off his stool. “Not happening. You can’t just interrupt a goddamn match.”

“I can do whatever the hell I want. So can Ruby.” His voice cracked like a whip. “And she knows she doesn’t have to put up with this bullshit. Not anymore.”

Bowen moved in between Troy and her father. “Let’s take it easy.”

“You shut the f*ck up, Driscol.” Jim pointed a shaking finger at Ruby, who was still trying to get her head around the fact that Bowen was playing peacekeeper for once. “Finish the match.”

She turned back to Troy, who gave her a quiet, meaningful look. Something just underneath his irritation begged for her cooperation. “Don’t finish the game.” Trust me, his eyes added.

Trust had nothing to do with it. Stopping a match before its completion was tantamount to treason among this group. Putting down her stick and walking away would be a bold move. Troy, being intelligent and well-acquainted with her world by now, knew it. So he had to have a very good reason for telling her to stop. She had to believe in him. Slowly, Ruby lowered the butt of her cue to the floor.

Robert spoke up. “This is a business transaction. No one leaves until it’s over.”

In her peripheral vision, Ruby saw a few of her uncle’s men step forward, toward Troy, whose hand slipped into his jacket. Surprisingly, Bowen moved to stand next to him, both of them clearly ready to fight to get her out of there without finishing the game. Quickly, she ran the numbers in her head. Five against two. Troy had his department-issued gun on him, but she was willing to bet her uncle’s men were all armed, too. The thought of gunfire exploding in the room made her blood freeze. No, she couldn’t let them get hurt on her behalf. Not when three pool balls were the only thing standing between them and walking out the door unharmed.

“Everyone stop,” Ruby demanded. “I’ll finish the game.”

“Ruby—”

“It’ll be over in one minute,” she said softly, pleading with her eyes for Troy to understand. “Then we’ll go home.”

Her uncle snorted. “You’re that confident?”

“I’m always confident.” She jerked her chin toward the table. “You screwed yourself by knocking the eight ball off the rail. It was the only shot that had me worried. Watch and learn, uncle.”

She ignored her dad’s proud laugh, putting her sole focus on winning the game and getting them safely out the door. At this point, the information about her mother came secondary. She took a deep breath and chalked her cue, then bent low to put the seven ball into the side pocket. Next came the three. She quickly rounded the table, gesturing with her stick toward the pocket where she intended to sink the eight. Her uncle acknowledged her calling of the pocket with a low grunt. Ruby tried to suppress the hum in her veins, the distinct feeling that came with being in the zone. It had been missing the entire match, but now she felt it, giving her tunnel vision and blurring everything out but the table. Without giving herself a chance to become distracted, Ruby lined up her shot and sank the eight ball.