FRACTURED (17 page)

“You're the best,” I told her, motioning toward the front counter. I stepped around back and grabbed the stool I kept there, offering it to Ginger.

“Thank you, dear, but I don't want to stay long. I'm sure you have more pressing things to do than indulge my need to be sure that you're indeed safe and intact.”

“If it means you're bringing goodies, you can check up on me anytime,” I replied with a wink as I bit into my second cookie. She beamed with approval. Her intense gaze and parental vibe made me wonder something that hadn't occurred to me before. “Ginger,” I started, putting my cookie down, “I hope you don't mind me asking, but...do you have any kids?” She looked at me longingly, and I instantly regretted asking. I'd hit a nerve of sorts, her sadness pouring out freely. “I'm sorry.

I don't know why―”

“Don't fret, Ruby,” she said, patting my hand in the most comforting gesture. “No, I do not have any children. Neither does Gavin.”

I looked at her sympathetically, not knowing what to say. “He had none before me, and it seems that our
incompatibility
would not allow for us to bear any.”

Silence hung heavy between us for a moment, forcing me to address the thought running rampant in my mind. Could Sean and I have children? With all his daddy issues and my not-so-stellar parental models, would we even want them? I found it funny that something I'd never given any previous thought to suddenly seemed like a life-changing revelation.

“Whatever made you ask that?”

I shrugged, embarrassed.

“There was something about the way you were looking at me―I've seen my friend Kristy watch her little boy that way. I'm sorry if I offended you.”

“Of course not, dear. You'll have to try harder than that if you wish to.”

“That's not a challenge you should carelessly throw out,” I replied with a laugh. “I seem unbelievably gifted at saying the wrong thing at the worst possible time.”

She smiled wryly.

“I wouldn't beat myself up about that, if I were you. Perhaps you come by that honestly.”

“I'm not sure,” I said, grabbing my half-eaten cookie off of the counter. “But I guess you're probably pretty used to dealing with it. Gavin seems to have a knack for pissing people off, pardon my language.”

“That he does,” she said, chuckling. She grabbed a cookie and lifted it as though giving a toast. We clinked our treats together like glasses of champagne, bonding over her enigmatic spouse.

“Ginger, can I ask you something else?”

“Certainly, Ruby. Anything.” Her composure was instantly regained.

“Does Gavin always speak around things? You know, talk in riddles, or is that just something he enjoys doing to me for his entertainment? I know he's old. Maybe he just needs to get his kicks in new and irritating ways.”

She pressed her lips tightly, taking a sharp breath before slowly letting it out. Laying her cookie down, she took my hand in hers and clasped it firmly.

“Ruby, Gavin has faults―many of them―but believe me when I tell you that he has nothing but your best interest at heart,” she said earnestly. “We
both
do.”

“But why?” I prodded, desperate for some level of understanding.

“He holes himself up in that boat, hidden away from everyone and everything supernatural, and then suddenly gets involved when the Rev comes to town, but only to help me? It makes no sense.”

“I know it seems that way, Ruby, but Gavin knows you're special.

He wants to see you safe without risking exposure. He's survived this long by being smart and cunning. If it weren't for him, they all would have been extinct by―” She cut herself off abruptly, unwilling to finish her defense of Gavin. “I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that.”

The woman I'd known to always be so formal and poised was suddenly flustered and very much in a hurry to get out of my shop. In a hurry to get away from
me
.

“Who?” I asked, not wanting to let her leave without clarification. I needed to know what she wouldn't tell me. “
Who
would have been extinct?”

“I'm sorry, Ruby. I have to go,” she told me curtly, collecting her handbag to leave. “You'll have to talk to Gavin. I shouldn't have said that.” She stopped just shy of the exit before turning to face me. Her expression was pained, her energy dissonant. “Please forgive my evasiveness. It is not my story to tell.”

I started to badger her further, but she sped surprisingly fast down the sidewalk, and I just couldn't bring myself to chase her down and demand answers. She wasn't in a position to give them and even I was above threatening a little old lady. For the first time since I'd returned, I was glad Scarlet wasn't around.

*

I was not pleased to know that Gavin's much better half was equally capable of being mysterious, and as I contemplated the newest CF in my life, four more pulled up in front of the building. To be fair, it was more like three and a half. Cooper wasn't a full-blown issue since his morning apology, but, judging by the look on his face, he was headed in that direction.

I stepped out to greet them, thinking that sucking up was the best plan of action.

“You look pretty hot driving that gargantuan vehicle, Coop,” I told him, grinning ear to ear.

He totally took the bait.

“I look hot in everything, Ruby. You should know that by now,” he replied with a sly smile.

“What about us?” Ali asked, stepping out of the SUV. “We don't look hot?”

“You look twelve, Alice,” Cooper spat over his shoulder. “Ruby isn't a pedophile.”

I laughed, even though I tried not to. It was just too good.

“You look pretty sexy too, Alistair, but it's hard to look badass crawling out of the backseat.”

He looked at me with a deflated expression, then shrugged.

“Fair enough,” he said, pulling bags of food out from the back of the car. “But do I look better as a delivery boy?” He wiggled his eyebrows at me playfully.

“Yes. That suits you.”

“Come on, Alice,” Cooper called from the doorway to the residential part of my building. “All of you, upstairs.
Now.
”

Without complaint, they all filed in while Cooper held the door open for them, watching their every move.

“I'll be right up,” I told him, opening the shop door. “I just need to grab my stuff and lock up.”

I ran back inside and did just that, then made my way upstairs.

When I opened the apartment door, I was surprised to see the foreigners sitting on the couch, eating their takeout. Cooper hadn't relegated them to their floor above. I smiled slightly. Maybe they were growing on him?

“Your dinner is on the counter,” Janner called to me as I threw my purse on the sofa table by the door. “Pad Thai. Cooper said you'd like it.”

“Sweet! Sounds awesome. I'm going to go clean up a bit first, then I'll be right out.”

“Hurry up,” Alistair called out as I disappeared down the hall. “You don't want to miss out on all the family fun!”

“You're not family,” a voice grumbled from the kitchen.

“But you're always saying we need to have family huddles...”

“Right, but you're never actually
in
the huddle, therefore you're not family,” Cooper argued. “Being the topic of conversation doesn't mean you're in.”

“You boys are going to be the death of me,” I shouted from my bedroom before shutting the door.

Cooper was suddenly very silent, as were the others. Then it dawned on me. My choice of words was exactly the outcome that Cooper feared most.

If I was honest, deep down, there was a small part of me that feared it too.

16

Our night was surprisingly drama-free―
enjoyable
even. Cooper looked relatively miserable for the better part of it, but even he cracked a few times when Beckett, with his incredibly dry sense of humor, ragged on Alistair for the various infractions he hadn't realized he'd committed.

Alistair was the most entertaining when he was trying to be serious, a trait I'm sure was equal parts annoying and endearing to those who knew him best.

It made me wonder what his mate was like.

On occasion, throughout the night, I got that strange guarded feeling from one or all of the boys. I just couldn't wrap my head around it. There was nothing negative or malicious about it: more of an interruption of sorts. At least that's what I felt. It reminded me of how Sean's face could go completely impassive at the drop of a hat, masking whatever was going on inside his mind. The neutral but impenetrable tone to their energy made them impossible to read. What I had trouble understanding was the timing of it. It never occurred when any awkwardness plagued the conversation (and that was often), but just seemed randomly interspersed throughout the night. Was it a coping mechanism of sorts, born of necessity in a pack that seemed as riddled with evil as Cooper's? If so, I wondered just how much they weren't telling us about the atrocities they’d faced under the rule of the alpha they had destroyed and how horrific their deaths would be should they ever be discovered. It made even more sense as to why they wanted to align with the baddest wolf on the block.

Too bad she was on an untimely leave.

I wanted to ask them more about their pasts, but Cooper was always around, and they just didn't seem willing to open up much around him. I couldn't really blame them. He wasn't really warm and fuzzy when it came to the boys.

I went to bed with a rare sense of calm, though my body was completely exhausted. In my amassing fatigue, I managed to walk squarely into a wall that hadn't exactly moved since the day before. It was a blonde moment of epic proportion, and I was thrilled that nobody had witnessed it. I wouldn't have lived it down anytime soon.

The next day started out without a hitch. Peyta was back at work.

The boys had two promising homes to check out and had planned to spend the rest of the day better organizing their temporary abode. Cooper would be supervising that activity. Sean sent me a message in the morning saying that he would be back in town that evening. He had plans for us and made a point to put “plans” in all caps. Whatever they were, they sounded promising. Lastly, I got a call from Kristy, who was still down south with her mother, who was recovering from surgery. I heard Louie jibber-jabbering in the background, and my heart nearly melted. In the few weeks it had been since I'd seen him, I could already hear the changes in him. The cliché was true: kids really did grow up too fast.

It took me a while to get off the phone with Kristy. She wasn't going to be convinced that I was okay until she got to physically see me and hug me to death. I promised to call her soon and made her give my little buddy a squish for me with a big, sloppy smooch for good measure. I heard him squeal in the background while she did it before yelling,

“Aunty Booby! Booby smooch me. Booby smooches.” He was just too cute for words.

Since the call ran longer than expected, I was late to work as usual.

If I didn't know better, I'd have thought Peyta was the responsible business owner and I the slacker employee. Graciously, she didn't taunt me too much when I crashed through the front door with a coffee carafe in hand.

“Nice to see you this morning,” she mocked, lifting a quizzical brow. “Did you get dressed in the dark or something?”

I looked down quickly to see what she was getting at. When I was greeted by the tag of my shirt, which was not only facing out but also turned in the wrong direction, I got her point.

“No,” I lamented, “but I was in a hurry.” Embarrassed, I scurried past her, leaving my coffee on the counter as I made my way to the back to rectify my wardrobe mishap. She followed me back.

“Long night?”

“Kind of.” I didn't want to go into great detail because she didn't know about the UK trio, and Cooper wanted to keep her in the dark as much as possible. Sean agreed. We knew she was as well protected as she was going to be with PC boys surveying the shop while she and I were there. Given the tenuous nature of her mental status, we didn't want to add to her stress level any more than necessary. Once the boys were out of the house and we knew what we were going to do with them, we would let her in on our little secret, or secrets, as the case may have been.

“Are you being evasive on purpose or are you just tired and grouchy?” she asked, leaning a shoulder against the wall.

“I'll go with the latter.”

“Path of least resistance?”

“Always.”

“I'll allow it this time,” she sighed, feigning annoyance. “Next time, I expect all the sordid details.”

“Deal.” Conceding was far easier than arguing with her and was clearly the best option given Peyta's genetic predisposition to get to the bottom of things when you least wanted her to. She was just like her mother.

“So Mom said you stopped by yesterday,” she said, changing the subject.

“Yep...”

“Was Malcolm there?” she asked curiously, her face impassive.

“He was.” I did my best to be as neutral as Peyta. I couldn't tell if she was trying to get a read on how I felt about him, or to hide her sentiments.

“So, what did you think?”

“He seemed fine. Better than fine, actually. He made a horribly off-color remark that made me laugh. How bad can he be?”

She said nothing, only eyed me from the other side of the room.

“Anything else?”

I sighed.

“Your mom seems happy with him―like a different person almost.

I saw glimmers of her hardened edges, but it was as though he filed them off with a single glance,” I explained with a shrug. “And what he did for you, P...”

“I know,” she whispered, looking away. “I met with the therapist yesterday. Mom let me go by myself. I need to do this for me.”

“How was it?” I asked softly, moving slowly toward her. “Did you like this über specialist?”

She looked at me thoughtfully for a moment.

“I did. I really did. It's like he understood me. He knew where I was coming from.”

“Well, that's great, P!”

“I know. It really is. I'm not sure how to thank Malcolm for his help though. We never could have afforded it without him.”

“Peyta,” I said firmly, “I would have made sure you got what you needed. I don't like to talk about it much, but my inheritance was substantial. I would have paid for it myself, if it had come to that.”