Framed (2 page)

“OK, gotta go...I think I hear a customer,” I said, before tossing a bag of cookies at her and dodging out the door as quickly as possible. I breathed a sigh of relief once in the safety of the showroom, surrounded by all of my creations. Making jewelry from recycled materials was what I loved, but I really did abhor the business side of owning a business.

While I soaked in the beauty of the trinkets encircling me, I was reminded that I felt very naked without one of my own. I hadn’t worn my ring since shortly after my healing with Sophie; I no longer appeared to need it. Whatever magic she wielded while saving my life seemed to integrate Scarlet and me into a more balanced duo. Keeping her in line had more to do with politely asking her to butt out, rather than trapping her against her will. It was a change to say the least, and I wasn’t adapting to it quickly.

I rubbed the vacant spot on my ring finger, wondering if I had any more unexpected changes awaiting me because of that healing.

* * *

Not long after my escape from filing hell, Cooper made an impromptu visit.

“What are you doing here?” I asked, surprised to see him. He'd been attending some classes at University of New Hampshire during the day, and I still hadn't figured out his schedule. He wasn't doing much to help out at the store because of his courses, but I was so happy that he showed interest in school that I didn't want him to know what a stressor my place had become again.

“I thought I'd stop by. I had some free time and thought I'd see how terrible your books looked. Want me to give them a once-over?”

“Yeah, why don't you head on back and see what you find,” I said with a devilish grin. I awaited the high pitched squealing.

Wait for it...wait for it...

“Cooper!” Peyta screeched.

There it is.

“Hey, P, what are you doing back here? Aren't there child labor laws against shitty jobs like this?” Cooper asked, presumably taking in the unenviable task Peyta had created for herself.

“Language!” I yelled as I walked back to join them.

“Ruby hired me on full time,” Peyta explained. “This is the thanks I get for trying to help out.”

“You get a paycheck too,” I added, looking wounded.

“A lousy one.”

“True, but a paycheck nonetheless.”

Cooper scooped us both up into a hug and kissed us both on the forehead.

“Both my girls in one place at the same time. Today, I'm a lucky guy.”

“Well, Lucky Guy, do you feel like helping one of your girls out?” Peyta asked playfully.

“Will it keep you off the street and out of trouble?” he asked with equal playfulness.

“It might just do that.”

“Sold!” he shouted dramatically before squatting down beside her to assess the task at hand. He squished up his face in disapproval. “Ruby, how did you ever manage without us in your life?”

“I don't remember, Coop,” I said, taking my leave of the tenth circle of hell yet again. “I think I've blocked it out of my mind.”

* * *

We finished later than usual that night and I told Peyta to let her mother know that I would bring her home. When I dropped her off, she asked if I wanted to come in, but I dodged that bullet by lying, saying that I had something else planned. She saw right through me, but let it go anyway; she knew the situation between Ronnie and I was tenuous at best and didn't want to push it. Too bad she didn't know the truth behind why.

Ever since Gregory's attack on Peyta and Ronnie’s disclosure of her knowledge regarding what both Cooper and I were, I'd been doing a juggling act, trying to keep all the necessary lies aloft. Peyta couldn't know the real reason behind her mother's anger at me because that would mean admitting that Ronnie knew about werewolves too. Ronnie didn't want that. Peyta had let her mother in on the fact that her “gifts” had changed into something more intense than before, but left out the bulk of the specifics. Ronnie didn't know about Healers and the PC, and I wanted to keep it that way. Peyta was on board because, for all she knew, her mom was oblivious to the existence of anything more than ghosts. So while those two lied to each other, I had to lie to both of them; it was completely exhausting.

To keep Peyta in the dark, I told her that her mother had found out about the age difference between her and Gregory and was none too happy about it. That displeasure was only amplified when she found out that I had allowed them to meet at my place, unsupervised, without even having met him. Playing the overprotective mother card with Ronnie was easy enough to do, and Peyta bought it hook, line, and sinker.

As for Ronnie, she never directly said it, but she appeared to think that Sean was also a werewolf—Sophie too. Her air of superiority when discussing them implied as much. I never bothered to address the issue, leaving her to assume whatever she would. Ronnie loved being right. Pride was a weakness of hers.

I pulled out of the driveway thinking that maybe I'd really had it easier when I wasn't in the know. Being ignorant may have been frustrating at times, but a part of me longed for the days of questions, not answers. In that moment, I felt so bogged down with truths and lies that I found myself needing to make a chart of who knew what about whom. Peyta and Ronnie weren't the only ones I was lying to.

It was nearly eight p.m. when I pulled the TT into her spot in front of the shop. I loved living right in town, but I loved the fact that I finagled the city into designating a spot on the street just for me even more. What I didn't love was getting out of my car to see a tall, dark, and ominous looking man leaning against the entrance to my house. I locked the car and headed towards him.

“Do I even want to know?” I asked as I rounded the Audi. The grim pressing of his lips together told me all I needed to know; whatever he was there to visit about wasn't going to be good. “I could leave and come back...it would save us the usual drama filled conversation and witty repartee.”

“No deal,” Sean replied, pushing off the building to walk towards me. “We have business. Let's go grab a coffee at that Toast place.”

“You want to talk business at the Friendly Toast? You do have a strange sense of irony. Perhaps if it were called the Mangled Corpse, it would be more appropriate.”

His gaze intensified as his eyes darkened ever so slightly. I nearly smacked myself in the forehead for being such an idiot. A mangled corpse was likely the reason he was there to see me. That corpse would have belonged to another member of the PC, Petronus Ceteri; one of his brothers in arms.

“I'm sorry,” I said softly. “I don't know what I was thinking.”

“You weren't,” he said curtly before placing a hand on the small of my back to usher me down the street. “I guess that means coffee is on you tonight.”

Sean and my relationship was as complicated as ever. With the murders of his brothers being pinned on me by most of the PC and his deal with the devil (a.k.a. Sophie), which he'd made to keep me alive after my vicious attack two weeks earlier, we were as standoffish and awkward as ever. He'd told me he loved me. I'd returned the favor, then found out that being together was never going to be in the cards. Ill fated lovers we were; a real Greek tragedy.

“Sean, seriously, how are we going to talk about whatever it is you need to talk about in public?”

“It's called discretion, Ruby. Perhaps tonight you'll learn some,” he whispered into my ear. My skin tingled instantly.

When we got to the place, I was glad to see it almost empty. We went straight back to a table in the corner that was somewhat isolated from the rest. I ordered beverages as per our agreement and brought them back to our seat. My tea was too hot to drink, so I cupped the mug in my hands and awaited the bad news. Sean took a huge swig of his coffee, completely unfazed by the temperature of it before he started.

“Why do you always assume the worst when I come around, Ruby?” he asked, sounding amused.

“I don't,” I countered. “At least I didn't, as in past tense. I used to just think it was odd that you would show up places, then I found it charming. Once I realized exactly what you were...I'd say that's when things started going downhill a bit. Now I know you wouldn't risk being around me unless there was something earthshaking going on.”

“Downhill a bit? So we haven't hit the valley below just yet then, eh?” he asked before another big swig of coffee. “So tell me, what brought you home so late on a work night?”

“Peyta and I worked late. I dropped her off. I was just getting back from bringing her home,” I said before realizing what he was doing. I frowned at him when I put it together. He smiled into his mug in response. “Hey! Don't start with me. If you want to know things, don't be acting all sneaky about asking them. If you want to know where I've been, just ask. I have nothing to hide.”

“You're cute when you're angry.”

“What do you want, Sean, really?” I asked, flustered and frustrated. “Cooper's going to start to worry soon if I don't get home.”

His eyes flashed at the mention of Cooper's name.

“Have plans for the evening, do you two?”

“Getting annoyed...,” I said, overemphasizing the words as I drummed my fingers on the table.

“Fine. Text him so he's at ease. Then you and I can spend some uninterrupted time together.”

“My phone is dead.”

“Use mine.”

“I don't know his number.”

“I do.”

“And why is that?” Silence. “Why do you freakishly know everything?” I asked, my irritation growing.

“Because he gave it to me.”

Well played, Ruby.

“Oh,” I said sheepishly. “Okay.”

I took his phone and sent Cooper a text explaining where I was and that everything was fine; I'd be home soon.

“Everything settled?” he asked over the rim of his cup. There was something oddly sexual about the way he drank coffee. I took immediate interest in the picture on the wall beside him.

“Yep.”

“Good,” he replied, soaking in his victory. “So tell me what you've been up to lately.”

“Why don't you just ask Cooper since you're such good friends, sharing phone numbers and all.”

“I'd rather hear it from you.”

“Let's see, I work, I frequent Boston even though you don't want me to and think the boys will kill me on sight if they catch me there. I avoid Ronnie like the plague because she's pissed and she scares the shit out of me. I keep an eye on Cooper just to be sure he doesn't fall off the wagon. I worry constantly about Scarlet, the PC, and that freaky murder that happened in the city. I don't sleep, I rarely eat, and I have to keep all of it under wraps so Peyta, who happens to think this whole newfound world she's in is the cat's pajamas, doesn't see this for what it is.”

“And what would that be?”

“A curse, Sean. It's a curse,” I lamented under my breath. “They're going to find a way to get rid of me eventually. You try living with that monkey on your back. It sucks.”

“I don't know how many times I have to tell you that I won't let that happen—”

“Right. Do you tell me that right before or just after you tell me that you'll take me down yourself if you have to? You can't do both, Sean. You'll eventually have to pick a side. Your ass depends on it too, remember?”

“I know exactly what my ass depends on, thank you very much. And though I will do what's necessary to fulfill my obligations, I will not do so because of pressure from others, or even a direct order from the powers that be. I will only do it because I see that there is no other option. Tell Scarlet not to force my hand and there won't be any problems.”

“She knows the rules, Sean. No guest appearances.”

“Not even a cameo.”

I looked around to see if anyone had overheard our quiet, but heated argument. The few patrons in there seemed completely fixated on whatever they were doing and the two employees were too busy shamelessly flirting with one another to have seen a car crash through the front entrance. Once I was convinced we were in the clear, I returned my attention to the impossibly green eyes affixed on me.

“So what have you been up to?” I countered.

“I've been trying to keep you alive, as always,” he replied. “Not an easy task. When were you down in Boston last?”

“Two nights ago, I think. Why?”

“Which way did you come home?”

“The same way I always come home, on the interstate. Why?”

“Who was the last person to see you that night?”

“In Boston? The guy at the Goodwill store. Why?”

“And was Cooper home when you got back?”

“No, he was at the library late, studying. Why? And so help me God if you ask me one more question—”

“I'm just making sure you're keeping appropriate attention on your whereabouts these days. The more detail you have and the more people you surround yourself with at all times, the better.”

“So this whole get together was really just an alibi pop quiz?”

He shrugged his shoulder in the most unapologetic way.

“I'm out,” I said, grabbing my purse. “I don't have time for this shit, Sean, and, quite frankly, you don't either.”

I didn't have to look back to know he would follow me out; he liked to have the last word as much as I did. I hadn't quite made it to the door when the news program on the TV caught my attention. More information about the murder of the woman in the alley had been leaked to the press, and they had an entire segment devoted to all the gory details. Sean was stopped in his tracks by it too. We stood just feet apart, staring at the newscast in complete silence. Before it finished, I broke away; I couldn't handle anymore rehashing of an event I was already too familiar with. I made it out the door and a couple of buildings down before Sean strode up next to me, so close that his arm rubbed against mine.