Framed (13 page)

I was in the bathroom, trying out a new hair diffuser for my blowdryer. Although it looked dubious, Peyta said her hairdresser was raving about it for those cursed with curly locks, so she bought one for me on her way out of the salon. It took me a good fifteen minutes to get the hang of it, but once I did I was fluffing and tousling in record time.

The downside was that the low vibrating sound of the dryer drowned out everything else in the apartment. When I finished with the process, I stepped out of the bathroom right into Sean's solidly built frame, bumping me back a step or two back into the room I'd just left.

“
Christ, Sean!” I gasped, retreating another step or two backward to catch myself against the wall. “Why are you working so hard to keep me alive when you're hellbent on giving me a frigging heart attack?”

“I rang the bell. You didn't answer.”

“That
usually
indicates that one should come back at another time because the occupant is either busy or gone.”

“Sometimes. Sometimes it just means they're unable to hear.”

“How did you even get up...scratch that. I don't even want to know,” I said, extending my flat hand out towards him to block any answer he was willing to provide. “Who did I kill now?”

“Nobody. Yet...,” he replied slowly. “I came to talk to you about the Rev. I'm
concerned
about that situation.”

“Take a number,” I said flatly, still clutching my chest as my heart, though slowing, pounded hard.

“Listen, I didn't want to make a bigger deal than necessary yesterday, but this is bad, Ruby. I think we've got a legitimate problem here.”

“I'm aware of how legitimate the problem is, Sean. He's been playing in
my
mind, not
yours
.”

“Would you stop for a minute?” he asked, grabbing my shoulders for emphasis. “There's been a lot of talk since your production in the yard. The term 'cahoots' was thrown around far more than I would like. They're becoming convinced that somehow you're
both
responsible for all the killings. Some think you might be using him to actually carry out the murders. Even your former sympathizers are bailing on you now...all but one."

Jay.

“Color me surprised,” I said, pushing past him towards my bedroom. “You didn't think it'd be helpful did you?” The silence I was met with indicated that my sarcasm wasn't appreciated. “Seriously, Sean, don't you see that I can never win with them?" I pleaded, my frustration building. "You being a party to that is only going to hurt you in the long run. I don't want that on my head.”

“It won't be. I made a choice.”

“So
unmake
it.”

He cocked his head to the side, looking intently at me across my bed. I immediately found something else to pay attention to.

“Why?”

“Why not?”

“You first,” he ordered. I knew enough to know that I'd cave long before he ever would, so holding out on Sean was the very definition of an exercise in futility.

“Because." He arched his right eyebrow at me, and I sighed. I really didn't want to have this conversation with him, and I certainly didn't feel comfortable being forced to share my deepest emotions either. Saying I love you was one thing, but professing that I couldn't stand for one second the thought of a life without him on any level was something I was ill equipped for. My body vibrated uncomfortably as I forced the words out of my mouth. “Because I can't stand the thought of you being dead, okay? I know that probably makes me a complete headcase and I hate that I'm even saying it, but there it is, Sean. Happy now?”

I abruptly threw my hands up in the air just so they could crash down to my sides dramatically. I'd put my cards on the table and nervously awaited the result. Vulnerability was not my forte.

“
Why
would that be so terrible?” he asked. “Me dead, that is.”

“Are you
shitting
me?” I asked, suddenly feeling exploited. “I just don't like it, alright? Besides, you know
damn
well why. I'm already in uncomfortable territory here...don't be an ass about this.”

“But if you were dead too, why would it matter?”

“It would matter because I have a conscience, Sean. It would matter because if you were killed first, I'd spend the last few moments of my life sickened with guilt, knowing that I could have prevented it. And since I
highly
doubt that either of us will be going to heaven after the things we've done, I'd never see you again.”

“It's never going to happen, Ruby.”

“What? You dying or us not seeing each other again?” I asked, shaking my head.

“Neither. It's a non-issue because I can't die.”

“You cocky shit. You
really
won't listen to reason, will you? Did she go through all the trouble of telling you what's going on with the Elders for you to just blow it off like you do everything else?”

“Did who tell me what?” he asked before he caught up with the conversation. “Aha. I see you've spoken with Sophie. What
exactly
did she tell you?”

“Enough,” I replied sharply. I felt the tears pressing tightly below the surface, and I was determined to keep them at bay. “I know that the Elders are coming and why. I know that you're far too arrogant or stupid to give a shit, and I also know that any way you slice it, I'll likely be six feet under once they arrive.”

“Sophie's paranoid, Ruby. Why would you all of a sudden start listening to her anyway?”

“I didn't. Believe me, I was quick to call her out on her shit, but the reasons behind her meddling are solid despite what she stands to gain from it.”

“What did she want?” he asked, crossing his arms over his chest as he leaned back against the wall.

“She wants me to convince you to retract your oath and distance yourself from me, the sooner the better.”

He laughed aloud for a moment before speaking. “Jer must have hit you harder than I thought. This is
classic
Sophie bullshit. She wants one thing and one thing only, and that's me,” he said, his joviality disappearing. “Make no mistake about it, Ruby, Sophie is smart, cunning, and laser focused on the life she wants to have. It includes
me
and not
you
.”

“I'm well aware of Sophie's number one goal in life, Sean. I may be blonde, but I'm pretty smart myself. I know that she had ulterior motives for visiting me and saying what she did, but she also was
painfully
right. Of course, she'll ultimately get what she wants if you renege on your allegiance to me, but, more than anything, she doesn't want to see you dead. We have that in common," I said, whispering my last sentiment.

He pushed off of the wall and walked towards me, but my pained expression seemed to hold him at bay. He stopped just a few feet away from me.

"It sickens me to think of you two together for eternity, Sean, but it's more palatable than you marching ignorantly to your death on my account. You can take it or leave it, but that's the way it shakes down.”

“That's all well and good, Ruby, but you're forgetting a couple of minor details. Firstly, there is no man or beast capable of causing my death. And secondly,
I
choose whether I break our bond or not. So, though I appreciate your sentiments, I'm afraid you're stuck with me.”

As the tears of frustration finally sprang from my eyes, I thought about the raindrops on my bay window. They initially appeared to behave one way, then quickly exposed their true nature, following a different course entirely. Sean had started out loving in his own way, but was threatening to become yet another external force that would only serve to drag me down, until my choices were no longer my own.

“But I don't
want
to be stuck with you!” I cried, slamming my fists into the wall. “I'm so fucking sick of having no say in the course of my life, and, even though that wouldn't be much more than a fleeting moment if you take back your oath, I'd rather have that than feel perpetually puppeted by those around me.”

I threw a chair across the room for emphasis. Feeling helpless didn't sit well. Sean looked as though he was starting to see the gravity of my statement. He approached slowly, putting his hands in his pockets to look casual and nonthreatening.

“Ruby,” he started, rolling my name off his tongue in a purr that gave me goosebumps. “I'm sorry, but I can't. You have to look at this from my perspective. I couldn't forgive myself for letting you die any more than you could for the reverse. That oath is the only insurance I have on your life. You can't ask me to give that up.”

“What happens when I start to resent you for that protection? Is having me alive and hating you in your plan too?” I asked, tears staining my face, but venom in my voice. “If you think my death will torment you, you should think about what living tied to someone who despises you would be like.” I closed the distance between us, stopping inches away from him. I rolled up onto my toes to get even closer to his face; I wanted him to
feel
my emotions. “Do you want to be like Sophie? Keep it up. You may find out.”

I walked past him and directly out of the room. Escape was all I could think about—escape from Sean, my emotions, and my ever-shortening life. I locked myself in the bathroom so I could collapse in peace.

I hadn't entirely meant what I'd said. It may have been laced with truth, but I manipulated it, twisting it every way possible so that I could make him see what was going to happen. If he wouldn't accept my death and was convinced his was impossible, then I needed to paint a less than happy future for him to think about. Throwing Sophie in his face was lower than low, and I knew it, but it was effective nonetheless, judging by the look on his face.

His breathing was heavy outside the door, and I fought hard to choke back the sobs threatening to burst from my throat so he wouldn't hear them. I needed him to go before my resolve caved. I wasn't sure I'd done the right thing and was fairly certain it wasn't the wisest move I'd ever made, but that changed nothing.

“Just go, Sean,” I said, forcing the words out painfully. More tears poured from my eyes, and I bit down on my lip hard to contain the scream I so desperately wanted to release.

“I don't know how to make you see that you're wrong," he pleaded through the century old, four paneled door. "You're
both
wrong.”

“I'm not, so you can't. Just leave. The Elders will be here soon. You can let me know when they are. We'll go down together and take care of this then.”

“I won't let you—”

“You have no choice, Sean. If I hand myself over willingly...maybe admit to some murders I've committed—”

“You wouldn't dare!” he growled, barreling through the door. It narrowly missed me as I remained on the floor waging a war against my emotions. “Why are you acting so
crazy
?”

"Because that's where this life has driven me, Sean, where you and all the others have delivered me,” I cried, flailing my arms around like Tom Cruise in
Jerry Maguire
. "I'm a loose fucking cannon. You sure you want to be in my trajectory?”

“Ruby,” he said, bending down beside me and the bathtub. “I need you to hold it together. If they come here, and that's a big
if
, everything will be okay. I need you to believe me.” His eyes were so sincere, glowing emerald in a way that made me think of a time far less complicated. Unfortunately, complicated was our reality.

“And you, Sean, need to believe me," I replied, closing my eyes so his couldn't lull me into a sense of false security. "I'm coming to terms with the fact that my life is going down and fast,” I whispered. “Believe
that
.”

I opened my eyes to see him staring at me—he looked stunned. For once in all the time we had known each other, he saw that I wasn't going to budge. He stood and backed out of the room slowly, his eyes never leaving mine. The glorious green was slowly masked by a darkening shade of black.

“I'll let you know when they arrive, but
promise
me that you won't do anything crazy in the meantime. Can you at
least
do that?”

“Yes,” I softly conceded.

“Good,” he sighed, looking momentarily relieved. “And, Ruby?”

“Yes, Sean?”

“I would
die for you,” he said, his face painfully serious. "A million times over if I could."

It was plain to see that he meant it, and, while my heart did a childlike dance of cartwheels and twirls, the rest of me stung with the backlash of reality.

“I know, Sean," I replied, choking on yet another stifled cry. "That's the problem.”

He left without another word.

I sat in the bathroom and cried.

12

The rest of the day was utterly and delightfully mundane. Aside from some idle banter with Peyta at the shop, a brief call from Cooper telling me he was going to be out late, and scheduling an appointment with a local estate planner, I had no contact with anyone. I spent all day in my head planning. Planning how I was going to tell my friends I was going to die—soon.