Framed

by Amber Lynn Natusch

  “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.

  I skipped dinner, feeling mentally and physically exhausted. I lay in bed wearing only my underwear; the heat was more unbearable than the previous night. It was small consolation, but at least I knew why.

  It took me forever to nod off. As I drifted away, the image of Sean's face the very first time I ever saw him floated into my consciousness. Everything about it was perfection. The lighting that framed it, the expression of concern he wore, and those impossibly green eyes. His dark hair fell tentatively around his face, his tousled waves blowing in the wind as it carried softly spoken words with it. As it blew harder and harder, the words became louder and louder.

  “Don't you leave me. I won't let you...come back to me." They repeated over and over again until the wind blew so hard that it carried Sean away, off into the bright light behind him. “I love you,” I called after him. “I love you too, now don't you fucking leave me,” he growled in return. My mind flashed t
o the memory of lying in the back room of the shop, bleeding in his arms. “Come back to me, Ruby, Goddammit. I will not lose you,” he told me as he looked down at my broken body, his face panicked and fearful.

  I'd forgotten how frightened he was that day; I was too busy trying not to die to really notice. That memory played several times over, and I memorized everything I'd initially missed. How he cradled me gently in his lap. How he stroked my face to calm me and keep me awake, and how he would have done anything to keep me breathing and with him. In that moment, I was everything to him. Even half-dead, I don't know how I missed it.

  My mind quickly contrasted that memory with the one from earlier that morning when he left my apartment, the fear of losing me again parading across his face. I put my frustration aside in my dream and really took in his emotions, feeling this time instead of listening. My mind could trick me, but my body always knew.

  He was grieving when he left.

  He mourned my loss even before it happened. Had he accepted my terms? I tried to ask him, but he faded away as the background muddied and swirled, becoming a place I'd never seen before—a house. A bedroom.

  Sean walked through the door toward me as I lay across the bed in the darkened room. His bed. I stretched out comfortably as though I'd been there many times before. He smiled as I did it, eyes widening to take in the sight of me, my paleness contrasting the dark sheets beneath me. The shade of green darkened slightly.

  “You thought I'd let you go?” he asked as he approached slowly. Watching him made me weak, being apart from him was torture. “I've told you before, you are mine.” I smiled and purred as I arched slowly up off the bed, rolling to my feet to meet him. “But I allowed you the choice, remember?” he reminded me. I nodded slowly in agreement. He reached his hand around the back of my neck and ran it through my hair gently, taking it in his hands to draw me in. My breath caught in my throat as his face neared mine, and I pulled up on his shoulder to meet him.

  Just before our lips met, he threw me violently back onto the bed.

  It was no longer Sean standing before me.

  “You chose wrong!” the Rev screeched before pouncing at me, fangs bared.

  I launched out of my bed screaming, soaked from head to toe. I had the worst case of déjà vu ever, except this time Cooper didn't come storming into the room at the sound of my disturbance. Once again, the Rev had frightened me out of my sleep. I'd hoped it would be the last.

  * * *

  “I pray that coffee is for me,” I groaned as Peyta pushed the shop's door open with her butt. I was too tired to get off my stool to help her.

  “It is. Fully leaded and ready for consumption.”

  “You're a saint.”

  “Hardly,” she replied, plopping the cup down in front of me. “Omniscient or psychic maybe, but no saint. Saints don't have any fun.” She winked at me playfully, but I just didn't have it in me to take the bait.

  “Whatever. Don't care what you call it. I'm just happy to see my black elixir of life. So warm...so fragrant. Yummers.”

  “When exactly did you start drinking coffee, anyway? I thought you hated it when I first met you. Now I rarely see it without you.”

  “I did. It's become a necessary evil in my life,” I sighed. "Like so many other things..."

  “Judging by the bags under your eyes, I'm inclined to agree,” she stated, observing my face closely. “Rough night?”

  “Yep.”

  “Care to share?”

  “Nope.”

  “Reasons?”

  “Unimportant.”

  She huffed loudly out of frustration as she threw her hands up in surrender. “Well this has been fun," she snipped. "I'll drop it, but I'm getting the sinking suspicion that you're trying to protect me from something again. I thought we'd ironed all that out.”

  “We did, Peyta. This doesn't have anything to do with you,” I said before muttering into my cup. “Not yet anyway.”

  “What was that?” she asked, turning on her heels to stare me down intently.

  “Nothing. Sorry, I'm just tired and especially cynical this morning.”

  “OK, but, Ruby?”

  “Yes, Peyta?”

  “No secrets...not between us.”

  I tried to maintain facial composure while the stabbing in my heart sent shock waves throughout my body.

  “No secrets,” I agreed, lying through my teeth. "Not between us."

  My cell phone blared, saving me from myself and my horrific poker face.

  “I have to take this, P.” I made my way to the back room for privacy. I didn't want to have this conversation in front of Peyta. “Hello?”

  “Good morning. May I speak to Ruby Dee, please?”

  “This is she.”

  “This is Rebecca from the Law Office of Rory, Waite, and Nichols. You wanted to schedule an appointment?”

  “Yes, I did. As soon as possible, please,” I said, trying to keep my voice as low as possible and still sound relatively normal.

  “What services do you require?”

  “I need to do some estate planning.”

  “OK, I have some time next week available.”

  “I really need to get this done before then,” I said, sounding as desperate as I felt. “It's kind of an emergency.”

  “Oh,” she said, sounding politely startled. “I see. I could fit you in this afternoon, but it will be a short appointment. I'll need you to be sure you have all your paperwork with you and organized.”

  “Not a problem. Just email me a list of what you need and I'll have it ready.”

  “Okay then. We'll see you at three-thirty?”

  “Perfect. Thank you so much, Rebecca.”

  “Of course. See you soon.”

  “Bye.”

  I clicked off the phone and walked back out front where Peyta was diligently cleaning a display case and redesigning it as she went along.

  "Looks good,” I said, gesturing to her handiwork. "You've got a great eye for this stuff, you know that? Maybe I'll leave you in charge from now on."

  “Thanks,” she replied with a smile. Peyta couldn't have known the subtext my statement held. She thought I meant I would leave her in charge of the displays. I meant I would leave her in charge, period.

  “Hey, I've got some things I need to get together for an appointment this afternoon. Are you good on your own for a bit? I'll be back in an hour or two. I promise.”

  "Ruby?" she called to me as I hovered in the open doorway, "Are you sure everything is alright?"

  "Yeah, P. I'm just tired and a little stressed. I promise, I'm fine."

  “Okay," she replied softly, eying me tightly for a moment. I could see the second she decided she believed me because the sparkle immediately returned to her eyes. "Do you care if I fix the rest of the displays while you're gone?”

  “Nope. Knock yourself out,” I said, pushing the door open. Once the door closed, I muttered the rest of my thoughts aloud. “It'll be yours soon enough.”

  * * *

  The list of paperwork was a little more in depth than I'd bargained for, so I spent the full two hours racing around my apartment and the town to collect everything I needed. During those two hours, I had time to contemplate what was inevitably going to be asked of me by the attorney that afternoon. Who would I leave my life to?

  I had no family to speak of, so that made that easy, but I had created a family that I needed to consider. When my parents died, I received a rather large inheritance, and I didn't want it to go to just anyone. I would make sure that Cooper was well taken care of and his schooling paid for. He would inherit the TT because he needed wheels and he practically humped it the first time he realized that it was mine. He would both appreciate and love her as I did; Dad would approve of him looking after her too. Cooper would also inherit the building. He'd made himself so much at home there that I didn't think he'd want to leave it or Portsmouth, even if I wasn't there with him. That thought stopped me dead in my tracks. I trie
d to breathe slowly while I fought back the tears.

  I already knew that I would leave the shop to Peyta. She loved it so much, and she was showing amazing promise in her design work. She was a far better business woman than I was, so there were no concerns there, and, since Cooper would be her landlord, I was comfortable knowing that he wouldn't charge her much for rent, other than a maintenance and tax inclusive fee. She could do nothing but succeed under those circumstances.

  There were still two question marks in my mind, and I spent the rest of the day before my appointment trying to figure out what exactly to do with them.

  I eventually figured out that there was really only one thing that Sean would have wanted from me if I were gone. I made a note of it so I wouldn't forget to tell the lawyer about it; it wasn't in the mound of paperwork. As for the other person, I decided to do what I felt was right once the lawyer was sitting in front of me. I was tired and didn't want to stress about it anymore.

  When three-fifteen rolled around, I poked my head in to say goodbye to Peyta and walked out the door. I crossed the street between traffic and stopped to look back at my home before continuing on. I would miss it. I would miss the shop, my apartment, my studio, my street, my town—I'd grown to love them all. A mournful smile painted my face as I turned to walk away. I didn't want to be late.

  There was much to plan for.

  13

  Forty-five minutes later, I left the office with my affairs in order, feeling much better about things. I found solace in knowing those I cared most about would be looked after in my absence. I strolled through town with a newfound lightness in my step. Apparently acceptance could do that for a person.

  With the weight of the world off my shoulders, I just enjoyed the sights, stopped in shops, and bought an obnoxiously large ice cream sundae for Peyta and me to pig out on. I said hello to passer-bys and tousled children's hair. I felt drunk with happiness and contemplated the irony of being happy to die. I don't think it had so much to do with actually being happy to die, but more so that I had taken back some control over my life, however short it would be.