I didn't want to believe that Scarlet had done something so unthinkable that she couldn't admit to me what it was, but that thought nagged at me while the memory of the ghostly shadow made me shudder. Maybe I misread her intentions, though. Maybe she didn't do something inexcusable at all. Maybe she, like so many others, had done something to keep me safe from dangers yet unknown to me. That wasn't a big stretch by any means, given my track record with evil and chaos. I laid there, contemplating possible scenarios that could have driven her to such extreme measures. It kept me awake until the amber light of morning started to spill through the sheer curtains that covered the windows from floor to ceiling.
In all that time, Scarlet never once weighed in on my ruminations. What I couldn't decide was whether her inactivity or Sean's willingness to let the whole thing go for now was more disconcerting. Those two were far more alike than either would ever deign to admit. When they were quiet, they were dangerous, end of story.
How this story would actually end still remained to be seen.
.
Chapter 9
A text from Trey was Sean's wake-up call at six that morning. Sean returned his text with a phone call immediately, walking toward the kitchen for privacy. I watched his glorious and very naked form disappear from sight before letting out a sigh. It seemed odd, given that he had already let me in on what they were working on, but old habits die hard, or so I told myself.
I got up and made my way to the bathroom to clean up a bit. While I did, I realized that in all our discussions last night, I never once told him about my latest acquisition: Lyla, the London Lolita. I wasn't sure how he would take the news, but full disclosure was the name of the game when it came to Sean. I'd learned that lesson the hard way too many times to count.
Except when it came to the mysterious picture.
And to Gavin.
When I opened the bathroom door to exit, I found Sean standing a few feet away, ready to leave.
“How do you do that?” I asked, thinking I couldn't get dressed that fast without spraining something.
“Practice,” he smiled. “Trey found something, so I'm headed down to Boston to go over the evidence with him. Do you want me to drop you off on the way?”
“No, that's fine. Gimme a sec and I’ll walk out with you, though.” I already had most of my clothing back on, but I sprinted into his bedroom for my sweater, knowing that it was going to be a blustery morning. As I made my way to the front door where Sean stood awaiting me, I decided I'd best just drop the Lyla bomb and get it over with.
“Do you need to use my place today for dance training or practice or whatever it is you call it?” he asked, opening the door.
“Ugh, yes. But I don't have time. Raincheck?”
“My apartment is yours whenever you need it.”
“Awesome. Thanks.” I stepped out into the hall, waiting for him to join me. I was nervous and fidgety, knowing that I needed to tell him about the Lyla situation before he found out another way. We were communicating so well that I couldn't risk not sharing that tiny detail. Taking a deep breath, I let him walk past me to the stairs, exhaling once he did. “So, I have to tell you something.”
“Do you?” he mocked, acting far too keen to hear what it was.
“I have a new roommate.”
“Really?” he replied with dubious inflection.
“Yep. The short of it is that she's another refugee from London. Apparently Jay sent her...I'll have to have a chat with him about that.” Sean's ensuing silence while we made our way down the stairs was most unsettling. “The craziest thing of all is that she actually knew Cooper when he walked in. The two of them go way back, like kids-growing-up-together way back.”
“You don't say,” he drawled as he rounded the final corner to the exit, his words floating up the echoing hallway to me.
“Yeah, totally weird, right? I mean, what are the odds that―” I cut myself off when he turned back to look at me, his Cheshire cat smile in full force. “Oh my God, you knew! I wondered why Jay would do something that crazy without you knowing about it. It seemed reckless at best and a sure fire way to get an ass beating at worst.”
“I'm a resourceful man, Ruby. One day you'll fully understand just how resourceful.” He paused to see me glaring at him and then laughed heartily. “While the boys interrogated the remaining London pack members, full background checks and histories were run on them. Jay notified me of the interesting connection that Lyla and Cooper shared.”
“You sneaky shit!”
“Resourceful,” he corrected. “Not sneaky.”
“Well, take your resourceful ass down to Boston and put your talents to good use on this London debacle, would you? Stop sending me wolves I don't need.”
“I have technically only sent you one wolf, Ruby. You decided to take the others in on your own, remember? Against my advice, as well.” He opened the exterior door, allowing me to exit before him. “And I didn't exactly send her for you.”
I could hear the smile in his voice.
I turned to confront him, but he was gone, having already made his way down the alley to his car, leaving me to stew in front of his building.
“Enjoy your ride, jackass!” I yelled, hoping his supersonic hearing would pick up on my irritation.
I never did get a response.
* * *
It was still early. I didn't have to open the shop for a couple more hours, so I decided to take a detour by my favorite bakery on the way home and indulge in a pastry and some hot chocolate. It might have been a bit selfish, but for once—just once—I wanted to have a meal to myself without Alistair making puppy dog eyes at me for my dessert or Beckett stealing food from right off of my plate.
I really hated that.
Along the way, I passed Better With Age, Ronnie's vintage clothing store. Much to my surprise, the light inside was on. Even though the past twenty-four hours had proven to be a shitshow, I took a deep breath and tried the door. To my dismay, it was unlocked. It looked like I was going to be having that wedding chat with Ronnie sooner rather than later. But really, why put off the inevitable? I figured it was better to just go balls deep into the chaos rather than drag it out over the next few days. If I wanted to secure some peace and balance in my life eventually, it would be best to just get things like telling Ronnie she was being a twat about her daughter's impending nuptials out of the way.
Standing in the middle of her store, awaiting her emergence from the back stock room, I wondered if my plan was a good one. Especially when she came around the corner with her Glock tucked in close to her leg. I guess I had startled her. If I'd known I was going to get that kind of reception, I'd have gone back to Sean's to get some Kevlar first. I'm sure he must have had some in the ridiculous munitions room of his on the second floor, even if he himself wasn't in jeopardy of being shot to death.
With my luck, Ronnie wouldn't have aimed for my chest anyway.
“For fuck's sake, Ruby,” Ronnie sighed, tucking the weapon into the back of her pants. “Didn't you hear about the series of break-ins downtown?”
“I'm not sure it's technically a break-in if your door is unlocked, Ronnie.”
“Apparently your bad habits are wearing off on me.”
“Highly likely. I have that effect on others.”
She eyed me like the Ronnie of days past. The days before she became Veronica, the softened version of her normally shrewd and hardened self. I smiled despite my best efforts to contain it. I kinda missed crazy old Ronnie.
“Well, don't just stand there. Lock that door and come back here. I need some help with these boxes in the stock room.”
“Yes, ma’am!” I replied, turning the lock and heading to the back room, stepping through the wall of hanging beads that sectioned it off.
“I'm guessing this isn't a social call,” she said accusingly, bent over a box full of jeans.
“Yes and no.”
“Heavy on the no?”
“We need t
o talk about the Peyta thing.”
“No. We don't.” She stood up to stare me down. Even though she was inches shorter than me and human, her glare still intimidated me. The box cutter she pointed at me furthered this feeling.
“Listen. I can appreciate that this development is not high on the list of things you wanted for your child, but it's going to happen. You know as well as I do that she's special. She's involved with the supernatural world, and there is nothing that you or I or anyone else can do about that. Believe me, if I could change it, I would.”
“What would you have me do, Ruby? Should I give her my blessing to marry into that testosterone-filled shitshow that Sean runs? You think that any parent would want that for their child? Would you want that life for your own children, if you had them?”
“Sean, Jay, and the others will keep her safe,” I explained gently, trying to give her something positive to focus on.
Her sharp laugh cut through my words like a knife.
“Yes, just like they've kept you safe?”
“It’s hardly the same thing, Ronnie.”
“Isn't it? You're the love of Sean's life, or so you tell me, and yet you've nearly died how many times on his watch?”
More than I cared to tell her about. She only knew of a couple incidents.
“Right, but trouble seems to stalk me.”
“Precisely. And where will Peyta be when it finds you? Where she has been this whole time? Right on the fringe.”
“You can't keep her from making this choice, Ronnie,” I argued, trying a different approach, one of tough love. “She's going to do this with or without your blessing. Don't do something you'll live to regret.”
“Ah, now you're speaking a language you understand: Regret.”
“Fine. If you're going to be like that about it, I'll leave. I told Peyta I would try to reason with you, but, as always, that's an impossible task. You're a stubborn ass, Veronica Marks. I hope you pull your head out of that stubborn ass of yours before it's too late.”
I turned to leave, tossing the hanging beads aside violently while I stomped toward the front door.
“It's in a week,” she called after me, an unexpected sadness in her voice.
I stopped short of the exit and looked over my shoulder to see her tiny frame emerging from the back room.
“Then I guess you have a week to pull your shit together, Ronnie. You've accepted me into your life. You've accepted Cooper too. And though you might deny it, you adore Jay when you manage to forget what he is,” I reminded her harshly, trying to make her see reason. “My suggestion is this: Go along with the marriage. Get involved. Help make her day special. She's technically an adult now and will be leaving to start her life with Jay. Don't give her a reason to go far away to do that. You'll never forgive yourself if you do.”
I pulled the door open and walked out. It was a shit thing to say, but it was the truth, and it seemed that Ronnie needed a healthy dose of that to break through her distaste for the situation. She had spent a lifetime keeping Peyta safe, and had done a remarkable job of it, but it was time to pass the torch to someone better equipped for the task. Jay was the perfect man to do just that. The fact that he worshiped the ground Peyta walked on and loved her so much that he was willing to never see her again because he thought it would be better for her mental health spoke volumes about who he was. He was the hero that women dreamed of.
Speaking of heroes, I hoped that mine was well on his way to Boston, ready to take the information that Trey had found and hunt down the bastards who had ruined the London pack. With any luck, that would be accomplished before any others were tainted in the same way.
* * *
With a day's worth of pastries in hand, I pushed my way into the shop, making sure I locked the door behind me. The last thing I needed to add to the CF list was a robbery, though it would have given Alan another reason to speak to me. I hadn't heard from him since our rocky encounter regarding McGurney's note, but I knew I would. He wanted answers and was certain that I had them, or at least knew how to get them. And if REWORKED getting robbed didn’t bring him to speak to me, I was pretty certain that when his note came up missing, I'd be the first person an enraged Alan would come looking for.
Lucky me.
Before I could go too far on that train of thought, the phone rang. I rushed to the counter to throw my belongings down and grab it off the wall.
“REWORKED, this is Ruby,” I said in my most pleasant phone voice.
“I need to speak to you,” Gavin said. His voice held an edge of urgency that I could not ignore.
“About?”
“About things I cannot discuss now, over the phone.”
“I'm working all day, so―”
“So find someone to cover for you. Where is that dear little human you so love to endanger?”
“Peyta is in Boston.”
“With the Devil's henchman, no doubt.”
I groaned aloud, making a show of just how enthused I was at the turn the conversation was taking.
“Do you ever just make a fucking point, Gavin?”
“Now, now. No need for such language. If you can't get one of your British twits to cover for you instead, then just meet me when you're done tonight. And come alone.”
“Because I often bring an entourage?”
“Tonight,” he warned and then hung up.
“God do I hate being hung up on!” I yelled, slamming the phone down in the cradle.
“Glad to see that you're in a good mood,” a voice called from behind me, approaching me from the back room. I screamed, launching myself backward away from the door. I could have killed Cooper. It would have been an effective way to wipe that oh-so-pleased-with-himself expression off of his face. “Well, now that I have your attention.”
“I'm going to stab you in your sleep tonight,” I threatened, clutching my chest to contain my heart while it slammed violently against it. “What the fuck are you doing sneaking up on me like that?”
“Just making sure you're on your toes.”
“Well, clearly I'm not, so can we get back to why you're here?”
He had the good sense to look a little sheepish when he realized just how badly he'd scared me. Pulling up the stool at the front counter, he sat down on it, shoulders slumped slightly. The sight of him looking so pitiful yanked me from my panic attack in a hot hurry.
“Coop, what's going on?”
He looked up at me with a wan smile.
“I miss the times when things were simpler.” I stared at him in disbelief, trying to remember exactly what times those were and when we had them.
“I'm not sure I'm following you. When have things ever been simple in the time you've known me, or are you talking about the pre-Ruby years?”
“Ha! Like those were any better,” he scoffed, his gaze drifting to the side and out the front window of the store. Whatever had Cooper in my shop long before opening hours was eating him up, and I, in all my selfishness, hadn't even been around much in the last couple of days to notice.
“Cooper?” I started, moving to stand before him. “Talk to me.”
Instead of answering me right away, he reached forward, wrapping his arms around my waist and pulling me gently toward him to stand between his knees. Instinctively, I looped my arms around his neck and rested my forehead against his. Silence hung around us like a security blanket.
Cooper and I had always been able to just be together. No pretense. No awkward moments. We could have sat like that until it was time to open the store and it would have been fine with both of us. But he'd come to me for a reason—a reason he seemed reluctant to share.
“What can I do?” I asked. Cooper being that sullen was not something I was used to witnessing, nor was it something I enjoyed. He was my rock, not the other way around. Seeing our roles reverse was distressing.
“Nothing. That's the worst part of the whole thing.”
“Coop, you're starting to freak me out a bit.�
�
“Ugh, don't go all 'Ruby' on me about this. I'm just having a hard time dealing with the rather numerous changes we've experienced lately. I miss when...you know...it was just us.”
“I know I haven't been around much lately, and I'm sorry about that. I'll try to be home more.”
“That's not it, Rubes. I know why you aren't around much, and I get it. I do. Losing Matty was hard for you, and losing your studio isn't easy either, even though you pretend like it is,” he explained, pulling away enough for me to see the honesty in his hazel eyes. “You're still a shit liar, you know that, right?”
“Whatever. Sean said I was getting better at it.”
“That's because he's trying to get into your pants.”
“Mission accomplished,” I quipped. He looked up at me with an unfriendly glare. “What? You said it. I'm just confirming.”
“At any rate,” he continued, ignoring my justification. “My point is that I feel disconnected from you, from what's going on with you and your life, and the shit that went down in London...”
“So let's fix that, Coop. All we need is a couch, a movie, and a big ass bowl of popcorn.”
“But we can't talk during the movie.”
I stared at him in disbelief.
“Cooper, all you do is talk through movies. Quoting lines, commenting on the cast, guessing the plot—”
“Fine. Bad example.”
“Worst ever,” I muttered under my breath. He removed his hand from my waist just long enough to flip me the bird. “I have some time before I open the store. We could talk now.”
“We are talking.”
“Oh, for fuck's sake, Cooper.” The grin he flashed me screamed payback for my earlier comment about Sean and his access to my pants. “So, Sean thinks they have a lead on the London stuff,” I said abruptly, hoping to shorten his gloating.
“Interesting. Anything concrete?”
“Just a lead. He said it was a paper trail, but I don't know what kind. I'm not positive that he knew anything for sure when he told me.”
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