Caged (13 page)

“So you’re spying on me?” I said accusingly.

“No, but Eric is a regular at the club, and the guys there know how he is. They also know how important you are, so they were checking in to be sure I knew what was up.”

“So the note and your little inquisition were all for show? You knew where I’d been and
who
I’d been with the whole time?” I shouted, lunging towards him. “Why the theatrics? Is it too much to get some honesty from people these days?”

“You want to lecture me about honesty?” he growled down to me. “Get off your high horse, Ruby. Talk to your little boyfriend about honesty. I doubt he could even define it.”

With that he grabbed a handful of pancakes and stalked towards the door.

“Enjoy your fucking breakfast,” he said, slamming it behind him.

The whole situation seemed to escalate abnormally quickly, and I was left wondering what I missed. Reading between the lines required knowledge of what page you were on; I wasn’t even in the right book.

I picked up a pancake, flopping it around back and forth over my hand for a moment before taking a big bite out of it. The boy could cook, that was for sure. What he couldn’t do was be up front about things. He was always so secretive and mysterious. The way he always just popped in when I was stressed out or in a bind, saving the day. The way he always did things so easily while I struggled. The way he evaded questions, but demanded answers like he was used to complete compliance from others, and the way he clammed up at the mere mention of Eric’s name.

I’d had it. I was going to get some answers for myself. Major answers.

I finished up everything that Sean had made, seeing no sense in letting good food go to waste. I thought it was odd that I hadn’t heard anything from Eric yet that morning until it dawned on me that all my phones were still unplugged and turned off. I ran through the house plugging them back in. I grabbed my cell from my nightstand, flipped it open and powered it up. There were thirty-two new voicemails. I started to listen to them: one from Eric, one from Sean, another from Eric, again from Sean. It went back and forth for about the first eight messages, then it was only Eric. He sounded positively desperate. I instantly felt guilty for letting my anger get the better of me, causing him to have a sleepless night of worry. I was getting out of my messages’ to call him when a beep came through; he was on the other line.

“Hello,” I said, looking at the mess of clothes that still covered my bedroom floor.

“RUBY!! Are you OK? Why the fuck haven’t you called me?” he yelled. I had to hold the phone away from my ear to avoid the deafening sound. I was once again angered for a brief moment.
Why is he yelling at me?

“I think you ought to take that down a notch if you expect me to stay on the line,” I said sternly.

He started back peddling immediately.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, you’re right. I was just so worried.”

“I texted you and told you I was fine. I don’t see what the big deal is.”

“Anybody could have sent that text using your phone, Ruby. I didn’t know it was you,” he said with deep concern in his voice.

“What is with you guys? Everybody is so freaking paranoid. What did you think happened? Someone jumped me going ninety miles per hour down the interstate? Not likely,” I said.

He paused for awhile, his deep breathing coming across the phone with increasing volume.

“You guys?” he inquired trying to stifle the growing anger in his voice.

“Yes. You guys. Sean was just here and equally paranoid. He showed up at four a.m. to make sure I was OK,” I told him. ”Apparently he knew where I was last night because he has his buddies at the club keeping an eye on me. They saw me pick you up.”

Again, the breathing was all that I heard through the phone. That was until I heard a muffled man-scream, followed by the crash of something very large, like furniture, being broken in the background.

“I’m coming over. I need to talk to you…explain some things. What time?” he asked.

It was already early afternoon. I had some things to do at work and apparently, according to Sean, needed to get some groceries too.

“Five would work…but-”

“I’ll see you then,” he said quickly, and I thought he’d hung up the phone until his voice returned, much softer, somewhat pleading.

“Ruby?”

“Yes?”

“Do me a favor? Please?” he asked.

“I guess.”

“Stay away from Sean,” he said.

“But, Eric, he’s my frie-”

“I know, I know. Just stay away from him at least until I can meet with you.”

I sighed deeply aloud.

“OK. I don’t understand, but I’ll do it,” I said with the returning need to please him.

“I’ll see you soon,” he said, and hung up.

All my life I was virtually without companionship, especially the male kind, and now I was being torn between the two men in my life. I felt as though I would eventually have to make a choice between the man who saved me and the man who made me need to be saved from myself.

Always between a rock and a hard place…

19

I mindlessly ran errands then tied up some loose ends at the shop, but it was impossible to focus on anything other than seeing Eric again. There was a constant swirl of emotions running through me, and my frontal lobe was too busy sorting through the sensations to make room for much else. I knew that when I saw him I’d be hit with the wall of heat/attraction/belonging that I always was, but it seemed to be a little less pronounced with each encounter, and for that I counted my blessings. On the other hand, my hurt and anger was still very much alive, and the only way to abate that was answers, and lots of them. I hoped he was in the caring and sharing kind of mood when he arrived.

When I returned home, I set about doing a few more menial tasks to kill time before his arrival. He had texted to say he would be arriving in about fifteen minutes, and it was all I could do to keep from spontaneously combusting. It set me into a frenzy and I was positive my apartment had never been so clean.

The most-annoying-soundin-the-world eventually went off and like Pavlov’s dog, I flew to the intercom to buzz him in. He had the good sense to look sheepish as he climbed the stairs to my apartment, and pulled from behind his back the most glorious bouquet of flowers. There were bursts of magenta Dendrobium and Cymbidium orchids, citron and chartreuse lilies with pockets of mandarin-colored pod-like blossoms that I didn’t recognize. They were exotic and expensive - the best. They by no means made up for his actions from the previous night, but he was working hard to make up for it, so I had to give him points for that.

“Ruby, I don’t really know where to start,” he said apologetically. His eyes downcast, his posture submissive.

“I have an idea,” I said, calmly. “Why don’t you let me ask what I want to know. We can start there.” I hadn’t wanted to sound irritated, but there was an undeniable tone to my words. I smiled brightly when his gaze met mine to try to cover up the anger seeping through.

“Fair enough,” he replied, golden eyes affixed to mine. “Fire away.”

I had thought about how I wanted to interrogate him all afternoon, but when given the chance, I seemed scattered and unfocused on what the really important issues were.

“Good. We can start with Sean,” I instructed. “You two have some serious bullshit going on between you and I can smell it for miles. I want to know why you two hate each other so much.” I demanded.

“I think I’d rather start with the party, if that’s OK with you?” he asked.

Uggggggghhhhhhh…

I was instantly annoyed by his question dodging, when he clearly promised he’d let me direct the conversation. That was until he stepped so near me that I could feel the heat radiating off of his body. It was instant forgiveness.

“Fine,” I said, breathily. “Tell me what happened.”

He paced the room, taking his time, seeming to choose his words carefully.

“My friends are a little
different
. It’s an interesting group dynamic when we get together.”

“That’s the understatement of the year,” I blurted like a Tourette’s sufferer. “Sorry, please continue. Tell me about Marcus,” I said, voice softening. “I get a strange read from him.”

“Marcus is great. He’s the reason I’m in Boston. I met him awhile back and he made a business proposition that I couldn’t walk away from. We’ve been really tight ever since,” he said with admiration. He stopped wearing holes in my rug for a moment to look me in the eyes. “You didn’t like him?” he asked, genuinely surprised. “He seemed absolutely taken with you. You were all he spoke about for the rest of the evening.”

“He was nice and all, but something, well…it just seemed off.”

“Maybe you just need to spend more time with him,” he replied, moving closer to me.

“No offense, but I don’t think I’ll be up for that anytime soon,” I choked out, literally coughing on the words. “What was up with that guy Duncan? He seems like a real
dream.
”

“Like I said, some of the guys in the group are interesting, and when we’re all together things can get a bit out of hand,” he said while fidgeting with his shirt hem.

“Right, but what was
his
deal? Why was he trying to start a fight?” I approached him, trying to steal his attention away from the shirt edge he was fraying.

“He wanted you,” he said as his face met mine. The seriousness of his gaze made me think that he wasn’t referring to me being Duncan’s first choice for dance partner.

“So he wanted me, so what? He was going to fight you for dibs?” I asked incredulously. “Do people actually do things like that?” Eric said nothing in response, but the look on his face was plain enough for even me to read. I’d hit the nail on the head. “So he fights you…then what? He wins and carries me off into the sunset? The nearest bedroom? There are laws against shit like that, you know?” I said, my voice raising.

“Yes. I’m quite aware of human law,” was his only response.

Human law?

“Well, we’re not in Marty Stouffer’s Wild America, so human law would be what I’m referring to. Is Duncan some kind of sociopath or something?” I asked, stepping closer still.

“No. He’s got an alpha personality. They see things a little differently than you do. He doesn’t see anything wrong with his behavior,” he said, staring at me with empty eyes.

“Apparently, your friends don’t either, since they were all chomping at the bit to see what was going to go down. Hell, they were encouraging it!” I yelled.

“This is what I’m trying to explain to you. The group… they’re not like normal people when they get together. They aren’t normal people.”

“Well no offense to them, but I have no intention of going near those psychos again.”

He made a sound in the back of his throat that sounded strangely like a low growl. His eyes glowed as if illuminated from the inside. Anger rolled off of him and crashed into me so hard that it physically knocked me over, and I stumbled back a step or two before regaining my composure.

“They are not
psychos
,” he snarled, a tone I’d not heard from him before. “They are my brothers and sisters, and you will
not
insult them.”

“Holy mood swing, Batman! I’m only trying to point out that they…”

“Do you know why you have your blackouts, Ruby?” he asked calmly, hijacking my rebuttal. “Did your precious Sean ever tell you that? No, no I don’t think he did, did he?”

I didn’t remember having told Eric about my blackouts, or how I’d been looking for answers to why they started. Sean knew I had them, but had never offered up any suggestions as to why, despite having a PhD in neurophysiology. Furthermore, I failed to see the relevance of the topic at that moment.

“What are you talking about? What does this have to do with anything that happened last night?” I yelled, storming into the kitchen. I needed space. “You’re seriously starting to freak me out, Eric.” I cried as I slowly backed away from him towards the door. Seeing my fear, he eased his menacing nature.

“But you do have blackouts, don’t you?” he pressed, following me into the tiny room.

“Yes, but-“

“And you only have blackouts after
really
stressful events, right?” he asked.

“Yes,” I whispered.

“And on rare occasion you wake up and don’t know where you or your clothes are, right?”

“How did you know…” I trailed off, unable to speak, eyes widening.

“Sometimes there’s blood on you, isn’t there?”

I raised an extended index finger, indicating that only once that was true.

He had moved so near me that the pull to him was there again, but it was so buried by fear that it was hardly noticeable.

“You have no idea what you are, do you?” he asked, placing his hands on my shoulders and leaning his face against mine.