Ivan 2 (Her Russian Protector #9) - Roxie Rivera Page 0,50

before we left the sample room and dropped it off at the discreetly labeled little window. Hand in hand, we exited the clinic through the waiting room and took the elevator down to the parking garage.

“So,” I said as he turned onto Fannin from the garage, “what’s your idea about Ruby’s job.”

His mouth quirked with a boyish grin. “She’s going to work for me.”

I blinked. “You can’t be serious.”

“I am.”

“Ivan.”

“Erin.”

My mouth settled into an annoyed line. “You and Ruby working together will be a shit show.”

“Probably,” he agreed, “at first, but I think it will be good for her.”

“That depends on what you expect her to do.”

“Cleaning equipment, organizing weights, gym laundry, scheduling, inventory and anything else she can do to take some of the weight off your shoulders and mine,” he said. “She can come with me in the mornings to open up while I work out.”

I snorted. “You leave the house before five.”

“Yes. And?”

“She’s like a hibernating bear when she’s asleep. Good luck getting her out of bed on time.”

“She’ll get up and go to work, or she’ll have to deal with her probation officer,” he replied matter-of-factly. “She’s an adult. She can set her own alarm and take responsibility for herself.” He glanced over at me before switching lanes. “She doesn’t have very many options. She can take a temp job through one of the programs that hire ex-cons, or she can come work with us in the family business. Maybe it’s not the career she wants, but it’s steady work. The pay will be fair. She’ll have insurance—"

“And she’ll be safe,” I interrupted, finally understanding why he wanted her at the gym with us. “We’ll both be safe with you all day. You won’t have to worry as much because we’ll be in your line of sight.”

“Exactly,” he replied. “I need you both close until we get this situation handled.”

“We as in you and me and Ruby? Or we meaning you and Nikolai and the others?”

“Yes,” he answered, shooting me a playful smile.

“Ivan!” I huffed.

“Erin,” he said more seriously, “this is a very delicate situation, right? We’re talking about a criminal conspiracy inside the jail—rape and who knows what else because Ruby won’t tell us the rest. We don’t know how high this thing goes. If Ruby isn’t willing to go to the authorities and press charges—and I don’t blame her—we are limited in what we can do and how we can cover ourselves.”

“I know,” I agreed tiredly. “It’s such a mess.” I bit my lower lip. “What she told us about—the little she told us—is sex trafficking. It’s illegal as fuck. Maybe,” I hesitated, “maybe we should call the Texas Rangers or the FBI.”

Ivan looked at me as if I had suddenly sprouted three heads. “Please, tell me you’re joking.”

“I’m not. The Texas Rangers investigate this sort of thing. That’s part of their mandate, isn’t it? To investigate corruption?”

“What makes you think they aren’t corrupt, too?”

I shrugged. “They’re the Texas Rangers. They’re the good guys.”

“As much as I would like to believe in romantic notions like that, I think it’s best if we don’t do something that drastic yet.” With a shake of his head, he added, “It’s not our decision. Ruby has to decide who she wants to tell and when. We can’t force that on her.”

“No, you’re right.” Ruby had been clear she didn’t want to go public about her experience. “You’re right.”

“Erin, look at me.”

I did.

“I don’t care what it costs or how many lines I have to cross. I will get justice for your sister. It might not be the legal kind, but she’s going to get it,” he promised.

I could only hope that the lines he might have to cross wouldn’t send him to prison.

Chapter Thirteen

Ivan stood at the counter the next morning, dumping scoops of protein powder into the blender, when Ruby unhappily shuffled into the kitchen. He plopped the lid onto the blender and pressed the button. “Good morning!”

Frowning, Ruby grunted and yanked open the refrigerator. She grabbed a bottle of orange juice and then scowled at the blender until he turned it off. She grimaced when he started to pour it into his tumbler. “What the hell is that?”

“It’s my protein shake.”

She plunked down the container of orange juice and picked up the giant canister of protein powder. As she read the ingredients, she made a face. “How can you drink this crap? Vegan? And what the hell is a BCAA?”

“I drink it because it’s a quick

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