Ruby and the Gangster

Chapter One- The set up

Yerky POV

The gunshot exploded through the warehouse.

The sound echoed violently against the rusty walls as the body dropped hard to the floor.

The second guy immediately stumbled backward, breathing heavily while staring at his dead friend.

“Please don’t kill me, man,” he begged shakily.

“I’m just trying to make ends meet.”

I stared at him silently.

As he begged, I noticed his hand slowly moving toward his back pocket.

That was foolish.

Not that I was going to let him go anyway.

I smiled slightly.

The smell of blood and gunpowder filled the air while distant thunder rumbled outside the abandoned building.

“me too" I said calmly.

Then I pulled the trigger again.

Silence.

The second body collapsed beside the first.

For a few seconds, nobody moved.

My boys exchanged uneasy glances behind me while I slipped the gun back into my waistband.

“Yerky…” one of them muttered carefully.

“Something about this feels wrong.”

“It is wrong,” I replied coldly.

I crouched beside one of the bodies and searched his jacket quickly.

Empty.

No money.

No package.

Nothing.

A setup.

My jaw tightened instantly.

Someone had leaked the drop-off location.

Someone wanted me dead.

“Let’s go,” I ordered.

Outside, cold rain drizzled across the empty streets while police sirens echoed faintly somewhere far away.

The city never truly slept.

Especially not Roastshell.

As I climbed onto my motorcycle, my phone buzzed inside my pocket.

Don.

I answered immediately.

“You handled it?” my uncle asked roughly.

“Yeah.”

A pause followed.

Then—

“You know the drill.”

I wiped rainwater from my face.

“They tried to set me up,” I said quietly.

Another pause.

“Come to the Ridge,” he muttered before ending the call.

But something in his voice didn’t sit right with me.

I started the bike.

And disappeared into the night.

Ruby POV

A loud gunshot jerked me awake from sleep.

I sat up immediately, my heart pounding hard against my chest.

Another gunshot echoed somewhere outside, followed by barking dogs and distant sirens.

I groaned softly and checked my phone.

1:00 AM.

Typical Roastshell.

I pulled my blanket tighter around my body and fell back against the pillow.

Living here meant you either got used to violence…

Or you never slept.

The next time I opened my eyes, sunlight poured through my curtains.

“Ruby.”

I blinked slowly and found my father standing beside my bed with his arms folded.

“Good morning, Daddy,” I mumbled sleepily.

“Good morning,” he replied. “How can you sleep peacefully after what happened last night?”

I rubbed my eyes.

“What happened?”

“Someone got shot in front of the Martins’ house.” He shook his head in disappointment.

“Police say it’s gang-related.”

I wasn’t surprised.

Gang shootings. Drugs. Missing boys. Police sirens.

That was practically normal around here.

“Well,” I sighed dramatically, “excuse me while I prepare for school.”

His eyebrows pulled together.

“It’s Saturday.”

“I’m meeting Miss Rita about my research project.”

The moment I mentioned my project, his expression softened slightly.

Ever since I won Best Writer at school, Dad had become obsessed with my future.

College. Scholarships. A better life.

He wanted all of it for me.

“Breakfast in twenty minutes,” he said before leaving the room.

“Okay.”

By the time I came downstairs, the smell of fried eggs filled the house.

Dad sat reading the newspaper while a glass of juice waited beside my plate.

Just as I picked up my fork, my phone rang.

Miss Rita.

“Hello? Yes, I’m on my way now.”

I ate quickly, grabbed my bag, hugged Dad goodbye, and stepped outside.

Cold morning air brushed against my skin immediately.

Police tape surrounded the Martins’ house while neighbors stood outside whispering in groups.

As I walked past, I wondered who the dead guy was. Did he have a mother or father who would weep for him?

I wondered who was going to die next.

My eyes drifted toward the dark bloodstain on the pavement.

Something about it made my stomach tighten.

I looked away quickly and continued walking.

“Good morning, Miss Rita,” I greeted as I entered her classroom.

“Morning, Ruby.” She adjusted her glasses.

“Have you finally decided on a research topic?”

“I want something people can actually relate to,”

I said excitedly. “Something real.”

She nodded thoughtfully.

“How about prostitution?”

I immediately shook my head.

“Too basic.”

Her eyebrow lifted slightly.

“I want something more intense,” I admitted.

“Something dangerous enough to matter.”

Miss Rita leaned back slowly.

“Well… the gang violence around Roastshell would definitely qualify.”

My eyes lit up instantly.

“That’s perfect.”

“But it’s dangerous.”

“I won’t get involved,” I said quickly. “I’ll just ask questions.”

“Ruby—”

“Nothing is going to happen to me.”

She sighed heavily.

I smiled before grabbing my bag.

“Thank you, Miss Rita!”

“Ruby!”

But I was already gone.

The next morning, church voices filled the building loudly as people clapped and swayed beside me.

The pastor wiped sweat from his forehead before gripping the microphone tightly.

“I am angry in my spirit!” he shouted.

The church immediately fell silent.

“These killings must stop! Young boys are dying every single day because of gangs, drugs, and violence!”

Murmurs spread across the congregation.

“No parent deserves to bury their child,” he continued heavily. “These streets are turning children into corpses before they even become adults.”

“Amen,” voices echoed.

I glanced around quietly.

Fear lived inside everybody here.

Nobody said it openly…

But everybody knew gangs controlled

Roastshell more than the police did.

The next day at school, Tracy suddenly grabbed my arm dramatically.

“Oh my God,” she whispered loudly. “He’s so fine.”

I frowned.

“Who?”

She pointed across the parking lot.

“That’s Yerky.”

I followed her gaze.

A tall guy leaned against a black motorcycle while smoke curled from the cigarette between his fingers.

Even from a distance, something about him screamed danger.

“What kind of name is Yerky?” I asked.

Tracy burst into laughter.

“His real name is Roberts, but everybody calls him Yerky.”

Then she leaned closer.

“They say he’s in a gang,” she whispered excitedly. “But honestly? I would still smash.”

“Tracy!”

She laughed harder while I shook my head.

But before we entered class, I glanced back one more time.

And somehow…

Yerky was already staring directly at me.

His stare was cold, like he could see straight through my soul.

I felt chills crawl all over my body.

Across town, the police station buzzed with tension.

Officers moved around carrying files, answering phones, drinking coffee, pretending everything was normal.

But the moment a certain man entered the building, conversations quieted.

Some officers stared openly with disgust

Others looked nervous.

The man ignored them completely and walked toward an office door before knocking once.

“Come in.”

He stepped inside.

Tall. Early thirties. Sharp jawline. Calm but dangerous eyes.

Detective Hughes.

“Sit down, Hughes,” the captain said heavily.

Hughes remained standing.

Silence filled the office briefly before the captain sighed.

“I’m forcing you to take three months’ leave."

“What?” Hughes’ voice hardened instantly.

“That’s not happening.”

“You killed a cop.”

“A crooked cop,” Hughes snapped. “And it was self-defense.”

“Still a cop.”

The captain slammed both hands against the desk.

“And that’s exactly why you’re not in prison right now.”

Hughes’ jaw tightened.

“There’s something bigger going on,” he muttered. “I’m close.”

Without another word, he removed his badge and gun before dropping them onto the desk.

Then he walked out with bloodshot eyes.

Later that night, loud music shook the walls of the club as Tracy dragged me through the entrance.

“When you said you knew where I could get information for my research,” I shouted over the noise, “I did not imagine a club.”

Tracy laughed loudly.

“This is literally the best place to hear gossip about gangs.”

Bodies moved wildly beneath flashing lights while smoke and alcohol filled the air.

It was my first time inside a club.

And suddenly, I felt completely underdressed.

“First time?”

The deep voice startled me.

I turned quickly.

Yerky.

His viper tattoos could be recognized anywhere.

“Umm… yeah,” I admitted awkwardly. “How did you know?”

He smirked slightly.

“You’re wearing jeans.”

I laughed.

“Is it really that bad?”

“No,” he said softly. “You actually look good.”

Heat crept into my cheeks instantly.

He leaned casually against the wall beside me.

“So what brings you here?”

“My crazy friend dragged me here,” I admitted.

“Honestly, I want to go home already.”

He chuckled quietly.

“Come on,” he said. “Let’s get some air.”

Outside, the cool night breeze brushed gently against my skin.

For the first time all night, I could breathe properly.

I laughed so hard my stomach hurt while Yerky stood beside me smiling.

There was something unexpectedly warm about him despite all the rumors surrounding him.

" Didn't quite catch your name", he asked

" Ruby". I answered

“Well,” he said eventually, stepping backward slightly, “I’ll see you around, Ruby.”

As he turned to leave, movement caught my attention.

A black car sat across the street.

Watching us.

And for one terrifying second…

I could’ve sworn someone inside was holding a gun.