Red-Hot Ruby (8 page)

“Well, this has been very nice, mister Carter,” she said to distract his attention while she stole his gun.

“Yeah, we should do that again,” he answered ironically. “Where do you live?”

“Puerto Rico.” She laughed, and ran away just as he turned around for a second when Williams called his name.

Her Place

Farrell had been sitting at her table for about an hour. She observed people come in and out of the pub. So far, no sign of Carter. Williams had probably arrested him the night before. That would mean she didn’t have to worry anymore. She thought he was just acting a strong and threatening persona, but she discovered how dangerous he actually was when he drugged her. Dangerous and attractive; that was definitely not a good combo.

“Are you alright?” López asked.

Farrell started up. She hadn’t seen him coming. “Yes, I’m fine,” she said.

“I told you to be careful, didn’t I?”

“Rafa, I’m fine,” Farrell insisted. “I can take care of myself, thank you.”

López looked worried. He was telling her to watch out for danger, but at the same time, he was being mysterious.

“I left him with the cops, last night,” Farrell said. “I guess he got arrested.”

“Don’t be so sure,” López replied. “He was here today; left just before you arrived.”

“Hm.” Farrell instantly lost her smile. “And what did you talk about?”

López grinned. “Mostly you.”

“I’m flattered,” Farrell said, though she wasn’t thinking it.

“Reese told me you gave him your address. Are you actually starting to be friends?” he joked.

“I didn’t give my address,” Farrell said, slightly worried.

“Really? Well, he knew.”

“I said I lived in Puerto Rico,” she remembered. “I guess that was enough information.”

“Juliana, sweetheart, there’s something you should know,” López said in a low voice. “Reese and I have been friends for a long while. And although I don’t always agree with his ways, I often help him. The reason you escaped last night is because I warned him the police were on their way. And—”

“
You
gave him my address,” Farrell violently interrupted him. López didn’t answer, but Farrell read guilt all over his face. “First you tell him about the musical, now this?” She stood up, put some money on the table, gathered her stuff, and granted him her most deadly look. “You just lost one of your most faithful customers,” she added on her way out.

Carter stood in front of the building. Avenue of Puerto Rico, Brooklyn. Farrell thought he wouldn’t find her. Well, she should have kept her mouth closed, because Carter wasn’t stupid, and he was very persistent. It didn’t take much to convince López to give him the full address. Carter got out of the elevator, took a few steps, and there he was. He picked the lock in just minute. Carter switched the light on and his jaw almost dropped to the floor. The flat was huge.

Carter quickly looked around the living room. But somehow he knew the ruby wasn’t there. On his left was the kitchen. No, not there either. Carter went to the right, into the bedroom. The double bed was framed by two over-decorated nightstands. Next to the bed was a little desk covered with make-up tools. An enormous mirror hung over it. Carter looked more closely at the powders, lipsticks, eye shadows, and so on. Obviously the ruby wasn’t there either. Carter turned around. Facing the bed, he imagined Farrell, her brown skin, her black hair.

He soon snapped out of his fantasy and noticed a door to his right. He walked to the door hoping to finally find the ruby. But he didn’t. Instead he found dozens of dresses, skirts, shirts, a few leather jackets, and an incredible amount of blue jeans. “Why does she have so many jeans?” Carter wondered. “They all look the same anyway.”

He was about to get out of the walk-in closet when he saw a latch next to the door. He pulled on it but nothing happened. Carter sighed. He closed the door behind him, and couldn’t help smiling widely when he realized what was activated by the latch.

Carter pushed the secret door hidden next to the bed to discover a real Ali Baba’s cavern. Shelves were crawling under jewels. There was a lot of gold, a few sapphires, and numerous emeralds. And in the middle of all that, the ruby.

It was protected by a glass showcase. Carter tapped gently on the glass. It didn’t look very thick. If he’d had the proper material, Carter could easily have pierced the glass and left unnoticed. Breaking it would make noise and attract neighbors. Carter swore at Farrell. Then he breathed in to calm down. There was a heavy lock on the case. Finding the ruby wasn’t enough; now he had to find the key. Carter rolled his eyes. She
was
good.

Carter was out of ideas. So he just stared at the ruby. It really had a magnificent flower shape, with all the little cracks making it unique. Its nuanced red glow was beautifully highlighted by Farrell’s silverish LEDs. The ruby seemed to be living, pumping like a passionate scarlet heart. Carter longed to hold it in his hands. He wanted to see it even closer. He wished to study the crevices and scratches of the red-hot ruby. But that damned glass prevented him from even breathing upon the rock.

Suddenly Carter heard the entrance door. Farrell was finally home; he would now be able to threaten her so that she would give him the ruby. He leaned on the showcase, facing the secret door, and waiting for her to find him. He didn’t have to wait for long. A minute or two later, Farrell showed up, menacing him with a gun. His gun. A furtive smile illumined Carter’s face for less than a second.

“That’s mine,” he said pointing at the gun.

“And
that
is mine,” Farrell replied pointing at the ruby.

“How about an exchange then?” Carter tried.

“Very funny, mister Carter,” Farrell was obviously angry. “Step away from my ruby.”

Carter stepped away like she asked, but only to get closer to her. He knew she wouldn’t shoot. She didn’t have what it takes. He stood in front of her, shadowing half of her face with his large shoulders. Carter was glad to see that Farrell was again wearing a low v-neckline; he’d gotten used to staring at her breasts.

“Eyes up,” Farrell commanded.

“Hm, I was just remembering what happened at my place,” Carter said.

Despite herself, Farrell smiled. She was distracted just long enough for Carter to take the gun from her hands. But she fought back, and the gun ended its trip on the floor. Now that Farrell wasn’t dangerous anymore, Carter let go of her. However, too used to her unexpected moves, he kept his eyes on her.

They exchanged a long, hot look. Carter ran his fingers through his hair. This simple gesture made Farrell melt. At that instant, she forgot he had actually broken into her flat. Carter was in her bedroom, she might just as well enjoy the moment.

“You tricked me,” she said, taking a step closer to him.

“No. I made conversation, that’s all,” he answered in a teasing tone. “Not my fault if you got distracted by it.”

Farrell took yet another step closer to him. She looked up. She could have swam in those eyes. She let her fingertips run all the way down his chest.

Carter started up when he felt Farrell’s hand on his cock. Slow, subtle caresses that were just enough to make him hard in seconds. He looked into her black eyes and saw burning desire. A desire that mirrored his. He circled her waist with one arm and pulled her to his chest. The heat of her body felt incredible. He kissed her, hungrily. Devouring her lips, swallowing her tongue. He unzipped her pants in a swift move and let his fingers be guided by her moans. Slowly, gently, he approached her wet and hot insides.

Farrell threw her head backwards, her fingers clinging to his neck. He held her close and kissed her beautiful breasts, savoring the sweet taste of her delicately tanned skin. Carter could feel her losing control. His fingers moved in and out, caressing, possessing, obsessing her wet cunt. Her moaning was getting more and more persistent, her breathing accelerated. He loved hearing her. He was dying to take her; tear her clothes apart and kiss her with wild passion. Forget the damned ruby just for little while.

And he knew Farrell felt the same way when she pushed his hand away and started unbuttoning his shirt. What a tremendous feeling to have her fingers run along his bare chest. He slightly shivered when his shirt slid down his arms and fell on the floor. He took a few steps back, letting Farrell push him against the wall. She leaned on his chest just close enough for him to have a breath-taking view down her neckline. He smiled and captured her lips once more.

“NYPD,” Cowley said while knocking, “open the door.”

“Oh come on,” Carter breathed, “not again.”

“Yeah, I hate their timing too,” Farrell agreed, zipping up her jeans. She walked to the ruby while Carter picked up his shirt from the floor. Farrell took a key out of her pocket and unlocked the glass case where the ruby was still lying. She lifted the glass, not taking her eyes off the jewel for even one second. Holding the ruby in one hand, she reached for a little black suitcase with the other.

She didn’t see Carter approach behind her, and started up when he laid his hands on her shoulders. His fingers ran along her arms all the way down to the ruby. He caressed the artistic cracks of the jewel with his fingertips.

“It’s so gorgeous,” he whispered in Farrell’s ear. Carter took a second to enjoy the moment. Holding Farrell close to him while staring at the ruby, he felt blessed to have two such beautiful jewels in his possession. But the feeling didn’t last long as Farrell moved away from him to put the ruby in its protective suitcase. The interior of the suitcase was reinforced with soft moss so that the ruby wouldn’t be spoiled. The rest of the case was made of solid metal and could endure several strikes without suffering any damage.

“Open up,” Cowley’s voice demanded once more.

“Come on, let’s go,” Carter said to Farrell.

They both made it for the door of the secret room. Carter picked up his gun on the way. When they reached the bedroom, they heard the entrance door opening in a loud noise.

“How are we gonna get passed them?” Farrell wondered out loud.

“We’re not,” Carter answered, motioning to the window.

“What? You want to jump?” Farrell said, horrified.

“D’you have a better idea?” Carter had found his ironical tone back. He had already moved through the room when Williams and Cowley pointed their guns at the thieves.

“Don’t move,” they shouted in unison.

Carter turned around and shot at them. His intention was not to kill, only to keep them at a distance where he wouldn’t risk getting caught before reaching the window. And that way, although they’d sure follow, they’d be delayed.

“Come on,” he told Farrell who was standing near her bed.

“I’m not jumping out of that window, thank you very much,” she replied.

“Suit yourself,” Carter said. “But then give me the ruby, so that at least
one
of the jewels is safe.”

“No way you’re getting your hands on it,” Farrell said angrily. “And don’t call me a jewel.”

Carter, who was already halfway through the window, came back into the room. He tried to get the suitcase from Farrell but she fought back. They heard the police tell them to put their hand in the air. Carter shot at them again. Then he aimed a little higher. The light bulb exploded loudly.

“That’s how you kill the lights,” he said before shooting at the door, thus forcing it closed. “Now, either you come along, or you give me that.”

“I don’t like either choice,” Farrell muttered.

“What’s
your
great plan, then, little girl?” he said, provoking her. It had the desired effect of making her angry. She walked around her bed toward the window and risked a look down.

“Come on, we don’t have all night,” Carter pressed her.

“I can’t.”

“Why not?”

“Because this is the sixteenth fucking floor, you crazy bastard,” she yelled.

“So what? There’s an emergency ladder. I wasn’t planning on actually
jumping
.”

“I’ve got vertigo,” Farrell confessed.

“What?” Carter couldn’t believe it. “Why the fuck do you live on the sixteenth floor if you can’t even look down?”

“Hands in the air,” Cowley shouted, but neither Carter nor Farrell complied. They didn’t even seem to have heard her.

“There’s a difference between living here, and wanting to jump out,” Farrell was saying.

“Hands in the air, I said,” Cowley repeated.

“Do you mind?” Carter told her. “We’re having a conversation here.”

“I don’t think you understood—” Cowley started before Williams interrupted her.

“SHUT UP,” he yelled. “ALL OF YOU.”

The room fell silent. It was partly lit by the lamp from the living room, partly by the street lights. The darkness and the broken door gave it a Gothic atmosphere. On the one side were Carter and Farrell—he was still holding his gun, and she was clinging to the ruby—and on the other were Cowley, Williams, and their colleagues—all of them with guns pointed at their antagonists.