Ruin Him (Wreck & Ruin, #2)

ONE-1

ONE

Another city. Another shitty room.

The conditions didn’t bother Tulsi as much as the fact that she was starting over. Again.

Vegas had been a bust. For about three weeks, Tulsi did her best to belong in the city that never slept. Getting a job there had been a major stumbling block. Turned out that learning fast was necessary for a life in hiding. Employment had come easier when she went off-strip and started to wear revealing clothes. Finding work had been only one hurdle; it wasn’t the last she’d faced either.

Two weeks into her job at Heaven, a strip club where she worked as a server, her boss’s advances became impossible to ignore any longer. Darnell, her employer, cornered her in his office and reminded her that all of the girls had to sleep with him at least once if they wanted to keep their jobs. He’d put his hands on her; men who did that didn’t tend to live very long. So, Tulsi defended herself against the letch and then split in a hurry.

Going to the bus station with her meager earnings, she’d caught the first bus that was headed out of state. That was how she’d ended up in Florida.

Her short time in Vegas taught her a lot, so she wasn’t beginning at zero. Starting over in a new city was frustrating, no doubt about that; but she had a better idea of how to take care of herself.

Departing the room she’d been staying in for two days, Tulsi was careful to lock the door. One of the things she’d learned in Vegas was that regular motels were more expensive than the back street flophouses. A colleague in Heaven clued her in on how to locate the cheaper places.

Tracking down a similar flophouse in Florida hadn’t taken long. All she had to do was seek out the roughest area of town and look for a building with open doors and a bunch of down-and-outs hanging around.

Making money was her primary goal. Slipping her key into her pocket, Tulsi’s mission that night was to find a job. She didn’t need to find a man, except that was exactly what faced her when she turned intending to walk down the hallway.

“You’re new,” he said to her, a smile on his face.

Though he appeared amiable and his warm smile genuine, Tulsi was suspicious. “Maybe you’re new,” she said and tried to sidestep.

He mirrored the move to stay in her way. “Amsterdam,” he said, offering a hand.

She had no intention of shaking it or making friends. “That’s not really your name.”

“It’s what they call me,” he said, tucking his hand into his pocket. “Dam really, for short.”

“That’s nice,” she said and tried to get around him again. When he persisted in blocking her route, she growled in frustration. “What do you want?”

“We’re neighbors. We should get to know each other.”

“If you want to get laid, I’m sure there are plenty of willing women down the block who’d take your money.”

His smile grew. “You’ve got spunk.”

“I’ve been told that before. Now get the hell out of my way…”

“A bunch of us hang out at a club downtown. It’s called Fox Den… I can show you.”

“Why would I want to go to a club with you?”

He shrugged. “Because everyone needs someone watching their back. I’ll introduce you around.”

Knowing a wider range of people could make it easier for her to get a job. If Tulsi didn’t start earning soon, she wouldn’t be able to afford the flophouse for long, which was a testament to her pathetic state. The place was the cheapest of the cheap. Tulsi wasn’t accustomed to living under the radar. Even though she was willing to do practically anything, not having a social security number or employment history made legitimate employers suspicious.

Any of the less reputable places she’d entered were wary straight off the bat because that was their norm. Any new face could lead to trouble or be connected to a government agency, so they were hesitant to trust newcomers who had no one to vouch for them.

“What do you do?” she asked this Dam.

“I connect people.”

He said it like he’d said it a thousand times and like it was a valid answer. But it didn’t really tell her anything. Dam’s statement reminded her of someone else’s response when she’d asked a similar question. The occupation of the man in her memory wasn’t really an occupation either. As soon as the thought of him entered her mind, she pushed it back down into the box where she’d locked all memories of him.

“What does that mean?”

“If you let me buy you a drink,” he said, “I’ll tell you.”

It was around ten PM, a good time to go job hunting. Everywhere was open and managers didn’t have time to ask too many questions. Even though Tulsi had tried places during the day too, so far she hadn’t come across any stores or coffee bars that offered discreet, i.e. cash in hand, employment.

“Just so we’re clear, the last three men who touched me without permission ended up with a blade in them,” she said, almost groaning at the sight of his interest brightening.

Hillam had been dead before she stabbed him and Darnell had only got an icepick in his arm, but they were mere details.

He tipped his head in a side nod. “Good to know.”

“Lead the way.”

Dam, as apparently people called him, seemed happy to have succeeded. But he wasn’t home-free yet. In her experience, no one did anything for nothing. Having only been in town for two days, Tulsi didn’t think anyone could have been spying on her. Not for long enough to learn anything valuable anyway.

Taller than her and built strong, it didn’t take a genius to figure out Dam would be able to pin her down if that was his plan. But Tulsi was not as naïve as she’d once been. In the past, she’d managed to defend herself and wouldn’t hesitate to do it again.

In a way, Dam having a s****l interest would put her at ease. Men did stupid things for s*x; they went out of their way to get laid. Tulsi was practiced at resisting s****l interest. Fending off unwanted advances was part of her repertoire. Anything more sinister would be harder to handle.

Despite her history, she’d also learned not to judge someone based on appearances. Yes, Dam was capable and he had an ominous snake tattoo sticking out of his shirt that curved up the side of his neck. But the men that a woman had to be truly careful of were the ones who did everything they could to appear gracious and respectable.

“What’s your name?”

“Sienna,” she said, following him down the stairs to head for the wide entrance just beyond the front desk.

That was where Betsy spent her days smoking cigarettes and watching TV while waiting for tenants and potential tenants to come hand her money.

“You’re not from around here?” Dam asked.

Tulsi didn’t plan to be an open book. “Are you from around here?”

“Don’t like answering questions about yourself?”

“Has it been your experience that people do?” she asked. “Whether I answer or not, you’d have no way to know if I was telling the truth.”

They continued to the corner. Dam put an arm around her to guide her across the street. Tulsi chose to assume that the maneuver was absent, just a kind way to communicate. While they were outside at least. If he’d tried that when they were alone, she’d have a different reaction.

Until she knew more about his motives, she couldn’t put up too many barriers. But that didn’t mean she’d let him take liberties. Being suspicious was becoming a way of life. It wasn’t easy being out on her own. Dam had been right that having someone watching her back would make life easier, except she wasn’t sure she’d ever be able to trust anyone to do the job for the right reasons.

“I bet you have a story to tell,” Dam said as they carried on walking.

“Not one I’ll be telling you any time soon,” she said. “But I’m a great listener, if you want to talk.”

Tulsi wasn’t offering an ear to be kind. If he talked about himself, she would learn more about him, and it would put a stop to him asking questions. Answering questions was her biggest pet peeve. It never used to be that way. In the past, she hadn’t been suspicious and careful when telling people about herself. But then, no one asked her questions that could lead to her being dragged to her death.

Not being herself anymore was the most difficult thing to wrap her head around. Who she was couldn’t ever exist again. Although Tulsi sometimes felt like her ex-self on the inside, she had to live a double life, never telling anyone the truth.

It was exhausting and meant she had to be aware and switched on all the time, ready to bolt at any second.

“I’m going to guess you’re running from something,” Dam said, apparently not paying attention to her offer.

Stepping away, Tulsi moved out from under his arm. “Why do you say that?”

“Most people are running from something. Sometimes it’s just themselves. Other times, something more serious is on their tail.” He left a silence that he probably expected her to fill. She didn’t. “You gonna give me a hint?”

“Maybe I came for the weather,” she said.

He bobbed his head in agreement. “Possible. Some people do. But those people don’t stay somewhere like Betsy’s. And if you’re looking for a rich sugar daddy, you’re not dressing right at all.”

Her dress was skintight and cheap, in that regard, Dam was right. If she wanted some rich guy to take over her life and pay for everything, she should go for a more sophisticated look. Some rich guys liked the skanky look, but not usually for more than a night.

“There are better towns for that,” she said. “Actually, I came because I heard you had good coffee.”

He laughed. “We do. Yep, good coffee.”

“You must have been here a while if you’re saying ‘we.’ How long have you been here?”

“On and off for years,” he said. “I head south in winter.”

“A lot of people do. You still haven’t told me what you meant by connecting people. You’re a headhunter?”

Any headhunting he did wouldn’t be for a reputable organization. Even she wasn’t naïve enough to believe that.

“You could say that,” he said. “People need something, they come to me. I get it for them.”

“Right. Just offering a public service.”

“For a price,” he said. “I travel a lot. Visit different cities. Learn what people have. What people want… Means I have access to a network that a lot of people have use for.”

“Someone needs something and you know someone else who’ll get it for them. For a price, no doubt.”

“It’s like a finder’s fee, that’s all.”

“So that’s why you walk up to random people and introduce yourself.”

“Good way to expand my network,” he said.

That he wasn’t trying to sell his approach as altruism actually made her feel better. Dam wanted to know if she could be of use to him. If he could hook her up with steady employment that would be great, but she wasn’t sure what she could offer in return.

On the bus into Vegas after fleeing Merchant’s, Tulsi spent a lot of time thinking about the future, about what it would take to survive. It was at that point she’d decided that s*x was off the table. Her decision was about protecting herself, sure. But it was also a reflection on her feelings about the act. Nothing good came from s*x. It brought out the worst in people.

It drove men to act out their primitive desire. Women weren’t always any better. Knowing the power it gave them over men, some females used it to take advantage of others. Even if there wasn’t something underhanded about the exchange, it was still a negative experience, leaving those who engaged in it either heartbroken or violated. There was no reason for Tulsi to put herself in that position ever again.

Someday, if she ever managed to get settled somewhere, she might change her mind. But she doubted it. Living in hiding, disguising herself as someone else, wouldn’t lead to honest and truthful relationships. Knowing that at any time someone could jump out to take her down, Tulsi couldn’t risk trusting anyone with the truth. So, if a man didn’t know who she was, how could she be intimate with him in anything other than body?