FRACTURED

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FRACTURED Page 17

by Amber Lynn Natusch


  “Everything'sfine,”Ioffered,trippingovermyownfeetasIwalked towardhim.Iwasbeyonddrunk,andmyvisionseemedtosufferbecause ofit.“Wewerejustwatchingsomesoccer. Football!Imeanfootball,”I slurred,stumblingovertheemptiespiledonthefloor.Theyscatteredlike bowlingpinsafterastrike,andItriumphantlythrewmyarmsupand cheeredasifI'djustbowledone.Cooperwasnotamused.

  “You'redrunk,”herumbled,flexinghishands.

  “Yes.Yes,Iam,butit'scool.Everything'scool,Cooper.Look!We havefood!Whydon'tyouc'moninandhavesome,”Isaid,grabbinghis armtousherhimin.Hedidn'tbudge.“There'sbeertoo.”

  “Itdoesn'tlookliketherecouldpossiblybeanyleft.”

  “It'sinthefridge.I'llgogetyou―”

  “Don't.Move,”hesnarled,hiseyespinnedontheboys.“Whyare youthreeinhere?I'mcertainItoldyouthatyouwerenevertobeinhere withoutmepresent.WasInotclear?ShallImakemyselfclear?”

  “Wearrivedandwaitedforyouupstairs,butwhenyoudidn'treturn, wedecidedtocomedownandseeifwecouldwatchthegame.Maybeeat dinner,”Jannerrepliedweakly,hopingtodiffusemytightlywoundalpha.

  “AndisthatwhatI toldyoutodo?No.Itisn't.Itoldyoutowaitfor meifyouarrivedherefirst.Itwasn'tarequest.”

  Alistairstirreduncomfortably,clearlywantingtosaysomething andknowingitmightbemoretohisadvantagetokeepquietinstead.

  Coopereyedhimwildly.

  “Somethingyou'dliketoadd,Alice?”

  “Iwashungry.IthoughtitmightbenicetohavedinnerwithRuby.

  Togettoknowhermore.”

  Coopersnapped.

  “I'lldecidewhenyoueat,shit,andsocialize,isthatclear?”He'd closedthedistancebetweenhimselfandtheminablur,anditmademy headdizzy.“Sheisnotyourstogettoknow,understood?”

  “She'snotyourseither,”Alistairmutteredunderhisbreath.

  Fueltothefire.

  “Sheismine,makenomistakeaboutthat.Sheismyfamily,my friend―mypack.Anyharmthatbefallsherwillbeavengedsoruthlessly thatSatanhimselfwillturnawayfromthebrutality.”HepulledAlistair closer,sothattheirnoseswerenearlytouching,hiseyesburningthrough theyoungwolf.“Do.Not.Touch.Her. Ever.”

  Alistairdidn'tstruggle.Hisboyslookedon,clearlydebatingtheir nextmove.Idon'tthinktheywantedtochallengeCooper,butIcouldfeel thattheydidn'twanttostandidlybyandwatchtheirfriend―their brother―bekilled.Ididn'twanttowatchthateither.

  “Cooper,”Icalled,emanatingwhatevercalmingvibesIcouldgiven howworkedupIwas.I'dneverseenhimsovicious.Hisever-evolving personawastakingonevenmoreofSean'squalities.Aswasoftenthe case,thatwasnotthetimetopointthemout.“IgotyourmessageafterI'd letthemin.It'smyfaultreally.Ishouldn'thaveignoredit,buttheywere alreadywatchingthegameandwewereorderingfood.Itwas... fun. I haven'thadthatinalongtime.”

  Hewouldn'tturntofaceme,stillboringholesthroughAlistair's facewithhisgaze.Ididfeelhishostilitywavereversoslightlythough, soIkepttalking.

  “Please,Coop.Lethimgo.Hedidn'tmeananythingbyit.Iknow whatit'sliketohaveamouththatgetsyouintotrouble.”

  Hisyelloweyesfinallyturnedtoburnthroughme.Hedropped Alistairontothecouchlikearagdollbeforestalkingtowardsme.

  “Youmaytrustthem,Ruby,butI'mfarlessconvinced.”

  “Thenwhydidyoutakesolongtogethomeifyouwereso worried?”Iasked,tryingtofindfaultinhislogic.

  “IwasdetainedbyPortsmouth'sfinest,”hegrumbled.“Apparently, theydon'tenjoybeingignoredorchallenged.”

  “Whatdidyoudo,Cooper?”

  “Iwastryingtoreachyouwhilethereportswerebeingfiledbythe officeronthescene.Hedidn'tlikemylackoffocusandtriedtotakemy phoneaway,”hesaid,clenchinghisjaw.“...Iprotested.”

  Icringed.

  “Badcall,Coop.Whatwereyouthinking?”

  Helookedaroundtheroomtheatricallythengavemehis'Icould askyouthesamething'face.

  “IwasthinkingthatIneededtoprotectyou,that'swhatIwas thinking.”

  “Soyou'vebeenin jailthiswholetime?”Iaskedincredulously.

  “Notthewholetime.”

  “Well,howdidyoumanagetotalkyourwayoutofcharges?”

  “Ididn't,”herepliedflatly.“I'mgoingtohavetosendAlanafruit basketorsomething.”

  Iexhaledheavily.

  “ThankGodhewasthere.Cooper,youcouldhavebeeninreal trouble!”

  “Andyoucouldhavebeeninworse,”heshouted,snappingalook overattheboys.“Youthree.Out!Now!”

  Withoutskippingabeat,theyfiledoutlikegoodlittlesoldiers, makingtheirwayupstairs.MyheartsankasAligavemeasadglance overhisshoulderbeforeclosingthedoorbehindhim.Theairwasfullof tension,sadness,andlonging.Thosethreehadbeendisplaced,forced fromtheonlyfamilythey'dknown.Cooperhadeveryrightnottotrust them,andIknewhewasgoingoutonalimbformeinlettingthemstay temporarily,butIjustcouldn'twritethemoff.Theyweregrowingonme.

  TheyjustwantedtobelongandIknewalltoowellwhatthatfeltlike.

  Iwastheirtickettoanewlife.Itmadenosenseforthemto squanderit.

  Cooperfollowedthemout,hoveringmomentarilyatthedoor.

  “Gotothebathroomandmakeyourselfthrowup.Ineedyousober.”

  Hiswordswerenotarequest,butanorder.“I'mgoingtogohaveachat withthosethree.”

  “Cooper...”

  “Iwon'thurtthem,Ruby,butwe'renotinapositiontohavearepeat performanceoftonightanytimesoon.Groundrulesaregoingtobelaid.

  Soaretheconsequencesforbreakingthem.”

  “Didyousecurethatrental?”Iasked,wantingtochangethesubject.

  “No,butI'mgettingtothepointthatIdon'tcarehowsuitablethe conditionsare.Theyneedtogo,Ruby.Thesoonerthebetter.”

  21

  Thenextday,Ileftearlytoheaddowntotheshop.Iwasbeyondoutof touchwiththebooks,andIneededtoremedytheproblemASAP.Cooper walkedmeoutonhiswaydowntothecollege.Sincehe'ddroppedhis classesaftermydisappearance,hewasgoingtoseeiftherewasanyway forhimtore-enterthenextsemester.Neitherofuswasoverlyhopeful, butitwasworthashot.Heneededapositivedistractioninhislife, howeversmallitmightbe.

  “I'llbebackinanhourorso,”hetoldmewithasomewhatstern lookonhisface.“Sean'sgoteyesontheforeigners,andthosethreeare underdirectorderstoavoidyou.DoIneedtoorderyoutostayaway fromthemtoo?”

  Ishothimmybest'really?'face.WhenIwasmetwithanalltoo familiar'answerthefuckingquestion'expression,Iverbalizedmy response.

  “No,Cooper.Youdon'tneedtogoallAlphaMcBossypantsonme.I getit.They'repersonaenongratae.”

  Hescrunchedhisfaceupatmelikehe'djustsmelledsomething awful.

  “Thatdidn'tsoundrightatall.”

  “It'scorrect.Don'thurtyourselfoverit.”

  “Butisn'titpersonanon―”

  “Imadeitplural,Coop,”Isnapped,irritatedwithhisquestions.“I tookfiveyearsofLatin.It'sright.Googleit.”

  “Whatever,grump.JustdoasIsaid,please.Theboysaretoremain upstairsuntilIreturn.Idon'twanttohearotherwise.”

  “Fine.”

  “Good.”

  Westaredateachothersilentlyforamomentbeforeanimpish smilebrokeacrosshisface.

  “Imissourtalks,”hesaid,turningtowalkdowntothecampus.My carwasinconvenientlyintheshopthankstohismaddrivingskills,sohe hadfeet-onlytransportationforthenextfewdays.Imadehimleavethe NavigatorathomebecauseIrefusedtobeleftw
ithoutacarincaseof emergencies.IwonderedifIcouldbumyetanothervehicleoffofSean.

  “ImissmyTT,”Iretorted.“Don'tthinkthat'swaterunderthe bridge,myfriend.”

  “Withyou,Rubes,itneveris.”

  HeroundedthecornerbeforeIcouldreply,leavingmetostewand laugh.Itwasunnervinghowhecouldgetundermyskinandstillbe charming.Thattraitclearlyhadn'tdisappearedinourtimetogether.

  Withasigh,Iunlockedthestoreandheadedin.Ishiveredabit,a gustofwindusheringmethroughthedoor,chillingmeslightly.The weathercontinuedtobeunseasonablyfrigid,andIforgottodress appropriatelyforit.Ajacketwouldhavebeenawelcomeadditiontomy ensemble.

  Seekingrefugefromtheblusteryweatheroutside,Iquicklyfound thatthetemperatureinsidemyshopwasnotmuchofanimprovement.

  Anearlywinterwasahighlyinconvenienttimetoexperienceafurnace meltdown.Especiallywhenthemalemostlikelytofixtheproblemhad justwalkedintotown,leavingmetodealwithitalone.

  Iletoutanenormousbreathoffrustration,lipsflappingloudlywith thegesture.Iknewnothingaboutfurnacesorhowtooperatethem,butI knewIhadtoatleastcheckthesituationoutbeforeIcalledCooperora professionaltocomeoutandserviceit.Ididn'twanttofindoutthatonly thepilotlightwasout―Cooperwouldneverhaveletmeheartheendof it.I'dalsobeleftwithaheftybillandanevenheftierblowtomyself-esteem.

  Ittookawhiletohuntdownaflashlight,butadmittedlythathad moretodowithmygrowingdiscomfortoverthetaskaheadratherthan theflashlight'selusivenature.Basementshadneveraffectedmegrowing upasI'dheardtheydidothers.Darknesswasdarknesstome—

  experiencingitbelowgrounddidn'tchangeanything.Utah,however,had changedallthatforme.Havingtogodownintothecramped,dirty crawlspacebroughtforthanxietiesthatIstillstruggledwithoneyear afterthefact.Iwantedtotucktailandrunbacktotheapartment,butI justcouldn't—formyriadreasons.

  I'dspentmonthsignoring,avoiding,anddenyingthatIhadissuesas aresultofmyconfinement.I'dalsospentthousandsontherapyand frequentedallkindsofsupportgroups,noneofwhichwereespecially helpfulgivenmyinabilitytotrulysharemyexperience.Ireallycouldn't admitwhathadhappenedtome,giventhesupernaturalcomponentsof thestory.Myattackshadbeenbothbrutalandscarring,andthoughthose scarswerestartingtohealwiththeloveandsupportofthosearoundme, mykidnappingandincarcerationstillhauntedmebothdayandnight.I stillhadn'tadmittedtomyselforanyoneelsethatIwasavictimofsexual violence.IfIdidn'tbeginpushingmyselftofacemyfearsandmoveon withlife,wouldIspendtherestofmyliferunningfrommypast?

  “No,”Isaidaloudtomyself.“Nomore.”

  WithmyMagliteclutchedtightlyinhand,Itriedmybesttoignore myshakingthatwasamplifiedbytherattlingoftheboxofmatchesI held.Imademywayintotheworkshopandquicklyfoundthewall switch.Ihadhighhopesthatitslightwouldcarrydownthenarrow stairwelltothecrawlspace-likebasementbelow,butthatprovedwishful thinking.AfterImovedtheboxesofwhatnotthatwereblockingtheway, Iturnedtheknobandopenedthedoortoadampandmustysmell.Itsent shockwavesdownmyspine,andIbrokeoutinafull-bodysweatinthe blinkofaneye.

  Staringdownintotheabyssbelow,IforcedtheairIneededintoand outofmylungswhileIstrangledtheflashlightinmyhand.Onestepata time,withamantraofaffirmationplayingonaloopinmymindandmy hand-heldlifelineilluminatingmypath,Imademywaytothebasement.

  Itwasnearlyimpossibletostandfullyuprightwiththeceilingsolowand thedirtfloorsouneven,soIhunchedoverandduckedmyheadasImade mywaytomydestination.JustbeforeIreachedthefurnace,amouse skitteredacrossthefloorinfrontofme.Iscreechedandjumped backward,crackingthebackofmyheadonthefloorjoistbehindmeand spillingmymatcheseverywhere.

  “FUCK!”IscreamedinfrustrationwithmyselfasIrubbedthe throbbingmasstobesureitwasn'tbleeding.Theangerwashelpful, overridingmyfeartemporarily.Istormedthefurnace,slappingtheside ofitwithmyopenpalmbeforeattemptingtoprocureamatchortwojust incaseIdidneedtolightthepilot.OnceIhadahandfulofthemandthe boxtostrikethemagainst,Icroucheddowninfrontofthemassofmetal andlookedaroundforanysourceofflamewithinit.

  Ifoundnone.

  “Well,atleastthiswillbeacheapfix,”Imutteredundermybreath, placingtheflashlightdownonthegroundbesideme,aimedprecariously atthefurnace.

  Surprisingly,itwaseasierthanIthoughttofindwhatneededtobe lit.Therewerealsoconvenientinstructionsadheredtothesideofthebox thatdetailedtheprocessinfull,alludingtothefactthatanymoron shouldbeabletodoitwithoutissue.Iwasabouttotesttheveracityof thatclaim.

  IsnatchedupthematchboxandoneofthefivestraymatchesI'd collectedandpreparedtoconquernotonlymyfearsthatday,butthe furnacetoo.Thesulfursmellassaultedmynoseasthefirstmatchflared tolife.Ihopedthepilotlightwouldfollowsuit.

  AsIleanedforwardinanattempttosolvetheheatingcrisis,the flashlightcompletelycrappedoutonme,leavingmewithonlythematch asalightsource.IscrambledtocollecttheothersbeforetheoneIhad burnedout,notwantingtobealoneinthedarkforasecondlongerthan necessary.JustasIcorralledthemnexttomyknee,theinevitable occurredandmymatch—directlyafterburningmyfingers―felltothe groundandsnuffeditselfout.

  “Dammit!”Isnarled,slammingmyhandintotheancientmetalbox besideme.IfeltlikeitwastauntingmewhileIfumbledwithmyshaking handstogetanothermatchlit.

  One.

  Two.

  Three.

  Onebyonetheysparkedandfizzledasiftheywereametaphorfor myhopesatthatmoment.

  Lastone...

  Icalmedmybreathing,knowingthatmyviolentexhalation,with whichIwasattemptingtostaveoffmypanic,hadblownouttwoofthe lastthreematches.Whisperingaprayerforhelp,Iquicklydrewthelittle woodenstickalongthesideofthebox.Istifledasquealwhenitsflame stayedalight—butnotforlong.AsIliftedthematchuptoilluminatethe tinyplaceonthefurnaceIneededtoputit,Iwasmetwithsomethingelse entirely—aface.

  Myscreamssnuffedouttheflame.

  22

  Iscrambledbackward,scurryingalongthepacked-dirtfloorinhopesof gettingsomespacebetweenmeandtheownerofthestonegrayeyesthat wereetchedintomymind.

  “Ruby,”hecalledouttome.“Love,I'venotcometohurtyou...I heardacrashdownhere.Iwantedtoseethatyouwereokay.”

  RightasIslammedintothestonefoundationofthefarwall,Iheard thesizzleofamatchlighting.Beckettkneltbeforethefurnace,lookinga crossbetweenbewilderedandamused.Iwasneither—scaredshitless cametomind.

  “Doallwerewolvesskulkabout,ordoanyofyouactuallyannounce yourpresencebeforeenteringaroom—ordeath-inspiringbasement,as thecasemaybe?”Mytonewascrispandcurt,butitwasamaskforthe absoluteterrorIfeltrisingupfromwhereI'dlongagostuffedit.

  Anditwasn'tgoingtocomeoutpretty.

  “Itoldyou,”hesaid,leaningintocoaxthepilotlighttolife,“I heardyou.Ithoughtyoumightneedmyhelp.”

  “Aren'tyoujustaknightinshiningarmortoday?Where'syour steed?Your sword?”IaskedascondescendinglyaspossiblewhileI attemptedtostrategicallymovearoundhim.“I'mnodamselindistress, Beckett.Ihadthisallsortedoutuntilyoujust poofedyourselfinhereand gavemeaheartattack.”ThepathIchosehadthewidestberthpossible.

  Everythingaboutthesituationmademeuneasy,andIwantedtogetout ofthere.Like yesterday.

  Thelightwasflickeringwildly,anditwasapparentthatitwas abouttoburnout.Ididn'twanttobeanywherebelowgroundlevelwhen thathappened.Notcaringabouttheimplic
ations,Iturnedandboltedfor thestairs,whichwaschallenginggiventhatIcouldn'tstandupstraight.

  Iheardhimbiteoutafewchoiceswearsunderhisbreathbehindme ashisfootstepsapproached.Knowingthathehadbeentheonetosackme inMaine,itwasn'tmyfondestcaseofdéjàvu.JustasIpassedthe halfwaypointuptofreedom,Itrippedonthestairs.

  “Whatiswrongwithyou?”heasked,hisaccentthickeningwithhis frustration.“It'slikeyou'vegonebloodymadallofasudden!Areyouall right?”

  “Listen,youshouldn'tbedownhere.Youneedtogetupstairs,”Ibit out.

  “Ruby―”

  “Imeanit!”Iscreamed,wheelingonhimonceIcrestedthetopof thestairs.“Youdon'tknowanythingaboutme,Beckett.Whatyoujust did...”

  Icutoffmywordsbeforelettingthemescape.Hedidn'tdeservethe tongue-lashingIwaspreparedtogivehim.Hehadn'tharmedme,touched me,ordoneanythinguntowardatall.Withalittlebreathingroom betweenus,Irealizedthatallhe'dactuallydonewashelpme.BeforeI hadachancetoexplainmyreaction,amanwhowasonlyvaguely familiartomecamecrashingthroughtheworkroomdoor,armedtothe teethandreadytothrowdown.

  “Ruby,”hecalledwhileeyeingBecketttightly.“Goupstairs, please.”

  “No.Ithinkthere'sabitofamisunderstandinghere,”Ireplied, movinginfrontofBeckett.

  “Iwastoldthattheyweretogonowherenearyou.”Histonewas flatandbusiness-like;hewasPCforsure.“Heiswhereheshouldn'tbe.

  Thereisapriceforthat.”

  “That'smyfault.Iwastryingtofixthefurnaceandcouldn'tgetitto work.IcalledBecketttocomedownandhelpme.Heknewthe rules―knewthathewasn'tsupposedtobearoundmealone—butIstarted tomeltdownsoheplacatedme.I'mthereasonhe'shere.Heshouldn't havetopayformyineptitude.”

  “Ihaveorders,”hesaid,movingtowardus.

  “Fromwho?Sean?”Iasked,seeingapotentialoutforour predicament.ItwasacardIreallyloathedplaying,butdesperatetimes calledfordesperatemeasures.Beingthebitchygirlfriendwasdefinitelya desperatemove.“Letmeexplainsomethingtoyou.Seanwantsme happy,endofstory.IfyoukillBeckett,Iwon'tbehappy,whichwill makeSeanunhappyintheprocess.I'veseenwhenSeanisunhappy;it's notespeciallypleasant.Doyouwantthatragerainingdownonyou?I surewouldn't.I'vebeenthereonce.Idon'trecommendtheexperience.

 

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