Page 4 of Ruin (Villains for Hire)

“ I 'm a mercenary, with a speciality for assassinations. I kill people for money.” Ruin paused, then tacked on, “Usually bad people.”

He watched her closely, gauging her reaction. To his surprise, there was no fear in her eyes. No revulsion or disgust. Only a gentle understanding that rocked him to his core.

“Is it lonely?”

That damn sure hadn’t been what he’d been expecting her to say. It took a second to recover and answer.

“Uh, not particularly, no. I work with a crew of other mercs. Most of us live full time on our ship.”

“How does it work, being a mercenary?”

“People hire us for various jobs. Sometimes it’s to steal somethin’. Sometimes someone needs protection. Sometimes people have a problem that can’t be solved… legally. Last job was helping a rebellion overthrow a dictator and her loyalists ‘cause she was using the citizens for experiments.”

“So, you’re good bad guys?”

“I don’t think anyone’s callin’ us ‘good’, little bird.”

“I think the people you help would.”

He found he couldn’t actually argue that.

“Why did you become a mercenary?”

He shrugged a shoulder. “Just kinda fell into it. My people are warriors. It's in our blood.”

“Is that why you helped me? Because you're a warrior?”

Ruin blinked, taken aback. He hadn’t thought of it that way. His code, such as it was, had always been more about practicality than morality. But he had his hard limits. Don't kill kids. Don't rape. Don't torture… much. Basic lines he wouldn't cross, not because of some noble ideal but because he simply didn’t have the stomach for it. Anyway, he’d seen firsthand the kind of monsters such acts could create.

Hells, he was the one hired to kill those monsters.

“I helped you ‘cause it was the right thing to do. You’re a person. Not a thing to be bought and sold, to be hurt, to have your freedom stolen.”

Lira's eyes swam with tears at his declaration. She reached out, tentatively laying one small hand over his much larger one where it rested on the table.

Her skin was soft against his, so fucking soft, yet her touch seared him straight to the bone.

“Thank you,” she whispered, voice thick with emotion. “I know I can never repay you for?—”

Turning his hand over, he engulfed hers. “You owe me nothin’. Your freedom isn’t a debt to be repaid. It’s a basic right, one that should’ve never been stolen from you.”

He hesitated, not wanting to push if she wasn’t ready, but to keep her safe, there were things he had to ask. Clearing his throat, he gave her hand a gentle squeeze before releasing it.

“I need to know about you, Lira. What happened? How’d you end up with that fuck?”

She tensed slightly, eyes falling to the table as she drew in a shuddering breath. “I’m not really sure, actually. I remember being in a pen with a bunch of other people, mostly human, but not all. Vargot bought me and another human, a male, but that man died not long after. Before that”—she shrugged—“nothing. Just haziness. Vargot said he had my memories wiped, so I’d be less likely to try to run. That was close to seven standard years ago.”

“Vargot. Did he… ”

He couldn’t quite bring himself to say the words, but she understood. To his immense relief, she shook her head.

“No. He bought that first male to breed with me. He wanted to sell humans as slaves. He bought other males after that first one, but they all died.”

Being an assassin for as long as he had meant he was damn good at reading people. Lira was doing a commendable job of maintaining an even expression, but something about her body language had suspicion flickering to life.

“Died how?”

Green eyes flashed up to his, round pupils dilating tellingly. “Different ways.”

“Lira, you know what I am. I’m not gonna condemn you for doing what you needed to do.”

She narrowed her eyes skeptically, warily. “Even if not all of those men were mean? Even if they were slaves too and didn’t have a choice?”

“Even if.”

She stared at him for a long moment, searching for some sign he was lying. He wasn’t.

Eventually, she whispered, “Yes, I killed them.”

“Okay.”

When he didn’t say anything else, she blinked and relaxed, those plush lips tipping up in a relieved smile. “That’s all?”

“Mmhm.”

“You don’t think I’m a bad person?”

He tilted his head. “Do you think you’re a bad person?”

“Sometimes,” she whispered. “Some of those men I killed were nice. But I knew what Vargot would make them do, and I didn’t want to do that. I worked hard to make myself useful to Vargot in other ways, and eventually, he stopped talking about breeding me.”

“Did you enjoy killin’ ‘em?”

“Not the nice ones,” she murmured, tracing a circle on the table with a fingertip.

His lips twitched. “Seems like you were just doin’ what you had to do. Doesn’t sound like you’re a bad person. You said you made yourself useful in other ways. How?”

She shrugged, making the tunic slide farther down her slim shoulder. “Vargot liked to gamble and I’m good at counting, so I’d count flips during the games to help him win. I also made sure his business associates didn’t short him.”

He’d known she had a sharp mind. “Impressive.”

The high points of her pale cheeks turned the same pink as her lips. “Thank you.”

They fell quiet as she finished her food, surprising him that she was able to empty her plate, despite her small size and the amount of food he’d given her. Almost as soon as she swallowed the last bite, her eyelids began to droop.

“C’mon. Time to sleep.”

“It’s safe?”

“Mm. I’ve got sensors in an’ around the building. No one will get close without me knowin’.”

“Okay,” she mumbled, rising unsteadily to her feet and shuffling toward the pallet on the floor.

Standing, he redirected her with a hand on her back. “Ah-ah. Bed’s yours.”

She craned her head back to peer up at him wide-eyed. Seeing the argument on the tip of her tongue, he shook his head.

“No arguin’. After the shit you’ve been through, givin’ you the bed is the least I can do.”

Lips pressed tightly together, she tried to mask her smile, but the corners of her mouth curled anyway, revealing her pleasure.

She took a single step, then paused again and whispered without looking at him, “Do- if you wanted to, we could share the bed? It’s big enough.”

He swallowed down the groan that promptly tried to crawl up his throat, cock twitching at the thought of having her that close.

“S’kind of you to offer,” he rasped, “but I’ll be fine on the floor.”

“Okay.”

Did he imagine her shoulders slumping ever so slightly?

As she climbed into the bed and got settled, he sat cross-legged on his pallet, situated between her and the only door. Beginning his nightly routine, he removed the weapons concealed on his person one by one, cleaning, recalibrating, or reloading them as he went.

Ruin could feel her eyes tracking his movements, but didn't meet her gaze. This protectiveness he felt toward her, the need to keep her safe and comfortable, was unfamiliar territory. Unsettling. Yet he couldn't seem to shut it off.

Fuck, he wasn’t even sure he wanted to.

As he worked, his mind turned over the revelations about Lira's past. He’d been surprised to learn she’d killed to survive, wouldn’t have guessed that. Oddly, he felt… relieved, knowing she’d taken lives.

Didn’t take much digging to figure out why.

It made her more attainable, made this growing hunger he had for her less wrong. Knowing they both carried the weight of the lives they’d taken made him feel less alone, less monstrous in his desire for her innocent sweetness.

He stilled, the bio-plasma pistol half-charged in his hands. Hunger. That's what he felt, deep in his bones. A visceral kind of hunger, ravenous and raw, whenever he looked at her.

Yet even as the primal part of him growled with longing, his rational side warned to tread carefully. Lira had been through immense trauma and abuse. The last thing he wanted was to take advantage or push for more than she was ready to freely give.

By the time he finished with the last weapon, her breathing had evened out into the soft, steady rhythm of sleep.

She looked heartbreakingly vulnerable, curled up in his bed, impossibly small and fragile against the dark covers. Her pale hair spread around her face like a halo, catching the dim light. One slender arm was tucked under her pillow, the other wrapped around her middle as if shielding herself even in sleep.

Studying her, a strange ache built in his chest alongside a warm kind of satisfaction at seeing her safe and at peace.

This was beyond unwise. In his line of work, attachments were a liability. They gave your enemies leverage, made you vulnerable.

And yet, with Lira, none of his rationalizations were enough to bring back his usual detachment. Something about her called to him on a soul-deep level, bypassing all his defenses.

Whatever this feeling was, wherever it led, he knew one thing for certain—he’d burn the galaxy to ash to keep her from harm.

Ruin jolted awake, instinctively reaching for a weapon before he registered Lira’s scent.

He went perfectly still, peering down at her with wide, disbelieving eyes as she climbed under the covers with him. The second she curled up next to him, wiggling her small frame tight against him, disbelief turned to arousal, as swift and all-consuming as a flash fire.

His cock thickened, pushing out from its protective sheathing to quiver and strum hungrily.

“S’cold,” she mumbled sleepily.

It took those sleepily mumbled words to become aware of her shivering and how chilled her skin felt against his.

His mind was still spinning, but his body moved of its own accord. He adjusted the blanket to make sure she was fully covered, then shifted to wrap an arm around her, enveloping her in his heat.

She sighed softly, nuzzling into his chest, the top of her head just reaching his collarbone. Ruin remained still, hyper aware of everywhere their bodies touched. Her sugary scent enveloped him, at once calming and intoxicating.

Almost immediately, her skin warmed, her shivering subsided, and her breathing evened out in sleep.

This felt dangerous. Intimate. He shouldn't allow this, but found he was entirely unwilling to do anything about it.

Why the fuck would she trust him enough to sleep against him, anyway?

She’d known him less than a day, had no reason to trust anyone ever after the shit she’d been through, and had seen firsthand what he was capable of.

Would this female ever do anything that made sense?

Lira made a small, contented noise and curled her arm around him.

When was the last time someone sought him out for comfort? Had it ever happened?

Ruin swallowed hard as his hand instinctively found the delicate curve of her waist beneath the covers, fingers splaying wide to draw her fractionally closer.

For all that it was foreign, this closeness felt… right. He hadn't realized how touch-starved he was until that very moment.

Her delicate curves molded to his frame as if they were two missing pieces finally aligned. The soft swells of her breasts against his upper stomach, the smooth tangle of her legs with his, the sweet, sleepy heat of her breath ghosting across his chest.

A strange ache bloomed beneath his ribs as he gazed down at her. Unconsciously, he raised a hand, stroking her cheek with a gentleness that surprised him. Petting her moonspun hair, Ruin marveled at how this waif of a female had brought him to his knees.

Fuck me.

He was in deep shit.