Scarred

by Amber Lynn Natusch

  The battle raged on the far side of the room, but I couldn't move to see it. I choked as I tried to yell for Sean, who found his way to my side instinctively only moments after.

  “It's not working,” Peyta cried. “I can't heal her!”

  “It's okay,” he comforted as he worked the ring off of my limp hand. Scarlet emerged, but didn't move.

  “Jesus,” she gagged, able to speak a little. “This is going to take a while.”

  “Can you move at all?” Sean asked. She wiggled her fingers weakly.

  “It's not terribly impressive,” she replied, “but we're on our way.”

  “Peyta,” he said, calmly, “keep trying. Sophie could heal her. You can too.”

  “I'll try,” she said, placing her hands on Scarlet.

  “Ronnie,” Sean called. “Come with me. I have a proposition for you.”

  Able to turn her head minutely, Scarlet slowly swiveled to see the PC holding an extremely beaten Rev. His body, though fully capable of healing, was covered in cuts and bruises. It was clear that the PC had some unresolved feelings to take out on him.

  “What?” Ronnie asked with hostility. It was all bravado. Scarlet and I both could feel her unease with Sean staring her down; we totally sympathized.

  “Would letting you put a round of silver slugs into him buy all of us your continued silence in Underground matters?” he asked, business face in full effect.

  Whether it was through Peyta's healing or her own, Scarlet was able to partially sit up with Peyta's aid and turn enough to face the crowd. With further assistance, she forced herself to stand unsteadily, directly across from the Rev.

  “Take it, Ronnie,” she told her. “Sean will get what he wants one way or another. I suggest taking the easiest path.”

  Ronnie eyed Scarlet, regarding her with distaste, but respect.

  “I'll be right back,” Ronnie called, leaving the room, right hand flexing. I knew what she was headed for. “You have a deal,” she shouted from the hall before reentering the room carrying an all too familiar Glock. She was loading it with her “special” clip.

  A shrill cry from the Rev snapped our collective attention back to him. He must have been getting uppity, so one of the boys dislocated his left shoulder, letting the arm dangle uncomfortably for a moment before snatching it up into what should have been an anatomically impossible position. The brother on the other side of him must have been a sucker for symmetry. He recreated the likeness on the right.

  “Will there be anything left intact to shoot?” Ronnie asked, popping the safety off her firearm.

  “You know where to aim?” Sean asked respectfully.

  “Not my first time,” she replied flatly. “Won't be the last.” Her eyes narrowed on Sean as he escorted her closer to the Rev; there was no sense in wasting good ammo. “Peyta,” she called, her back facing her daughter. “I need you to go outside.”

  Peyta didn't budge. I felt her mixed feelings about what was about to happen. She'd never known her father, and, again, the small child within her longed to have her chance. That longing started to override the knowledge that her father was a crazed killer.

  “Scarlet,” Ronnie sighed, eyes pinned on the man who was once her husband. “Take her outside. Please.”

  “Come on,” Scarlet said, urging Peyta towards the exit. “You don't need to see this.” The two hobbled out, Peyta supporting Scarlet's weight while tears ran down her cheeks. They managed to fumble the front door open, Scarlet nudging Peyta out first. Before exiting herself, she heard Sean address the Rev one last time.

  “She is mine,” he growled. “Not yours. Never yours.”

  Scarlet closed the door to a symphony of blasts. Three to the chest and one to the head never sounded so good.

  15

  It took a while for him to die; I never did get all the details. The brothers had taken turns dismembering what was left of him down in the basement, then had themselves a bonfire in the backyard. It was unclear to me as to whether or not he was dead when they did all of that, but judging by the screams I heard while Scarlet was upstairs getting healed further by Peyta, I'd have voted no. It was macabre, but they'd waited a long time to get their hands on him—I couldn't really blame them for their enthusiasm.

  I was worried that the cops would show up because we needed a permit to have a fire within Portsmouth city limits. It was hardly going to go unnoticed with fifteen to twenty foot high flames smoking up the neighborhood. Luckily for us, Ronnie's one neighbor was in Spain for the month, and the other one, the Nosy Nellie, was quite taken by the brother who was sent to smooth things over, so we didn't have to worry about any complaints from her. However, the messenger, Drake, was most distressed by his encounter. Apparently he had never been felt up by a cougar before.

  They'd spent an entire day disposing of the ghost that had haunted us all. I spent the whole day crashed out in Peyta's room, trying desperately to sleep off the stress and trauma of the day. By the time I came outside to join the morbid festivities, it was late evening. The Rev's ashes were cooling and the coals had died out in the fire. Ronnie was nowhere to be found, holed up somewhere in the house; there was a lot for her to process. She had been hunted for almost two decades. Putting the Rev to rest was both a victory and a loss to her, and Ronnie wasn't one to publicly do anything. She would ruminate over things on her own until she was ready to go out with a brave face.

  Peyta didn't leave Jay's side from the time I emerged from the house till the moment I left. She looked at him with familiar eyes as she shadowed him around the yard. Those eyes used to fall on Cooper way back when. I knew Jay shared her sentiments, and I audibly sighed when I watched him reach back and take her hand to escort her back into the house. I felt a bit like a voyeur, enjoying how her face lit up the instant he touched her. When Sean, having crept up on me easily as I watched the budding romance play out before me, whispered in my ear, I practically jumped out of my skin.

  “I think it's time you go home,” he said, his breath tickling my ear. My skin flushed instantly as every hair on my body stood at attention.

  “Okay,” I whispered back, sounding a little too breathy. “I haven't heard back from Cooper yet, but if he gets my message, he'll freak out for sure. I told him the Rev was dead. I should be around to explain things to him.”

  “Not your home,” he countered, running the back of his hand lightly down my spine. “My home.”

  “Oh.”

  “Indeed.”

  As if lifted by strings, my body plucked itself from where I sat and marched me, without thought, towards the car. Peyta ran out to meet us, crushing me with her embrace. She didn't say anything, just held me. I kissed the top of her head gently before wrapping my arms around her. Jay stood dutifully behind her, having still not been officially relieved of his post. I looked at him over top of Peyta and smiled before I mouthed silently, “Take care of her, or else.” He nodded, a smile slowly stretching across his face.

  “Jay,” Sean started, no doubt aware of what was going on, “I want you to stay here with Peyta. I think she'll find it...comforting.”

  Jay nodded again, smile still in place. Peyta released me abruptly, before doing something that shocked us all. She jumped up and grabbed Sean, her tiny arms wrapping snugly around his neck. He held her as tears rolled down her cheeks.

  “Thank you,” she whispered. He smiled, even though she couldn't see him.

  “You're welcome, Peyta, but I should really thank you. Ruby would've died without your help today. I wouldn't have gotten to her in time,” he said, pulling her back a bit so he could look at her as he spoke. “Don't doubt your abilities, Peyta. I've never seen a Healer as gifted as you.”

  She smiled shyly as he lowered her to the ground, allowing her to take her place next to Jay. Their hands found each other instantly.

  Once in the car, I watched the two of them disappear into the house, Peyta trailing Jay slightly, letting him lead her. The strong, willful girl I'd met a year e
arlier had found her match in Jay; he was water to her fire. Sean caught me staring and laughed. I didn't realize that, true to form, my emotions were plastered across my grinning face.

  “It's a good match,” he said, starting the motor.

  “He's a great kid,” I said in agreement. “I've always thought that.”

  “Kid?” he asked incredulously. I thought I heard him snicker. “You do know that he's hundreds of years older than you, right?”

  “Can't help it...he looks younger than me, and I'm a visual girl. I don't care about the details.”

  His laugh boomed through the Beamer as he pulled out of the driveway. He was extremely jovial considering the turn of events that had just occurred. I had stuffed my emotions down for the time being, waiting for a better time to let them out, if I did at all. Avoidance of traumatic events had become key to my survival, and, thankfully for me, I was quite adept at it.

  I liked seeing Sean like that though. I wouldn’t have wanted to ruin it with an epic meltdown.

  * * *

  “Maybe I should swing by my place and get a few things? Peyta's running out of emergency clothes for me at her place. These pants are doing unpleasant things to me at the moment,” I suggested, getting out of the car. “I'll come right back.” If I was going to stay the night, I needed some basics, and really needed to get out of the too-small sweatpants that were giving me a massive wedgie. Even more than that, I wanted to see Cooper. I was starting to feel bad about how things were left, and even worse given the events that had followed in the twenty-four hours after. Fighting with Cooper always felt wrong. It was like every cell in my body was vibrating out of tune with the others—discordant. I needed my harmony back.

  “You don't need anything, Ruby,” Sean said, looking at me over the car. “I wish you would just say what it is that you really want.” His eyes pierced through my feeble excuse, to the core of the issue. It annoyed the shit out of me that he could do that without even trying.

  “That I want my toothbrush?” I said, trying to gloss it over with humor.

  “Please don't insult me,” he replied, walking towards the entrance. “If you need to go to him, then go. I’m not standing out here all night to watch you vacillate on the issue.”

  I stood motionless, my feet glued to the concrete beneath me. Was it always going to be a choice between those two, even after a choice had been made?

  “I can't explain it—” I blurted out, quickly, before the door could shut behind him. He caught it with an outstretched arm and peered around it. “I love you, Sean. I wouldn't have come to you last night if I didn't. You are both who and what I want, but if that love means I need to exclude others that I care about from my life...it's too much. I can't do it.” He came to rejoin me in the alley, his expression unreadable. “I love Cooper, Sean. You can't change that. I don't know how to explain it so you'll understand, but it's not what you think. I need him.” I could see by his reaction that I was not making things better. My frustration drove my ramblings. “No, no, no...not like that. Shit...um...”

  “Maybe you should go,” Sean said, retreating to the door.

  I couldn't let him go back in. Something in me knew that if that door closed behind him, it would close a door on us. For good.

  “Maybe you should stay,” I countered, anger leaking into my voice. “Stay here and fight for what you want.” I wasn't trying to start a war, but if I could stop running from things, so could he. “He's my best friend, Sean. We're bonded, like he's an extension of me somehow. Fighting with him makes life miserable, and I owe it to him to make things right.” I walked to him slowly, pausing slightly on the way. I took his hand and gently pressed it to my face. My cheek warmed with his touch, and my eyes involuntarily closed. “I only feel this with you, Sean,” I whispered, afraid it was all too little, too late. “Deep down, I've known from the beginning that you were the only one for me. Don't shut me out. Please...”

  The skin of his hand was slightly rough under my chin as he reached under it to raise my face to his. Illuminated only by the motion lights on the side of his building, eyes as green as spring grass looked down at me. They were mesmerizing.

  “Go,” he said softly, leaning down to my ear. “I'll give you one hour. Don't disappoint me.”

  He kissed me then, softer and more gently than he'd ever done in the past. It was like having my consciousness slowly drawn out of me. My surroundings faded, pulse slowed, knees weakened. When he released me from his grasp, I had no concept of how long we'd been standing there.

  “You have fifty-two minutes left, Ruby,” he whispered, checking his watch. “Better run.”

  16

  I realized quickly after arriving at my apartment that I wasn't going to need the time Sean allotted; the house was empty. Feeling a bit dejected and unsettled, I went to collect a few necessary items for my overnight stay. While packing my clothes into a small duffel bag, I came across a pair of extremely sexy black panties buried deep in my lingerie drawer. My hands hovered above them as I stood there, staring the sheer, sparse material down as though picking them up and putting them in my bag meant more than just a choice in undergarments.

  They weren't really me. They'd been an impulse purchase a while back, and I hadn't really had cause to wear them up until that point. I couldn't help thinking that they were much better suited for the type of woman that Sean would normally go for, rather than my cotton boyshorts or run of the mill thongs. I sighed and threw them in the bag along with a pair of my more customary skivvies. I needed to shower when I got back and figured I could have the great underwear debate concluded by the time I finished. If not, naked was always an option. Sean would have no qualms about that.

  As I pushed the drawer shut, I caught a glimpse of my ring. The ring that had nearly ruined everything that night. The ring that nearly made me prisoner to a madman. I stared at it with disgust.

  “I think I'm all set with you for a while,” I muttered, pulling it from my hand. It was quickly stashed away in my jewelry box so I'd know where it was. Apparently I hadn't noticed its absence up until that point, but, in the rare event that I needed it, I wanted to know its whereabouts.

  With all the necessary packing squared away, I made my way to the living room and grabbed the notepad off of the fridge. I jotted down the highlights of what I’d just been through, and left the note for Cooper. I didn’t bother mentioning where I'd gone, but said I'd check in with him tomorrow. I rummaged through the junk drawer trying to find the tape roll that was normally at large somewhere in the apartment. After slicing my finger on two separate letter openers, I successfully located it and affixed a strip to the top of the message, taping it to one of the upper kitchen cabinets. Grabbing my things, I made my way out and locked the apartment door behind me.

  Once outside, I pulled the exterior door shut behind me and gave it a jiggle to be sure it was secured. When I turned to head across the street to the alley, Cooper rounded the corner. From a distance, we eyed each other. I wasn't sure of the reception I was going to get, making part of me want to dash down the road in the other direction.

  No more running.

  It was a promise I'd made to myself that, unlike my previous “no crying” policy, I was determined to stick to.

  “Rubes,” he said as he approached. I stood in place, waiting for him to come to me. “Where ya been? And what in the hell are you wearing?”

  His face was serious, but I knew he wasn't angry. He never called me Rubes when he was mad.

  “Long story,” I replied. “I left you a message on your phone and a note upstairs. I came home to see you.”

  “So come upstairs and see me,” he said, eying me strangely. “What's up with the bag?”

  “I'm on my way out for the night, Coop. I've gotta go,” I said, my gaze dropping. “I just wanted to make sure that we were still okay.”

  “Us?” he asked, sounding almost surprised by the remark. “We're always okay, Rubes. Even when we're not.”

&nbs
p; I looked back up to see his shit-eating grin bleed through his seriousness. Before my emotions could overtake me, I dove in for a hug.

  “Is that blood in your hair?” he asked, fingering a strand that had fallen out from under the hat I'd borrowed from Peyta.

  “Um...yes,” I said, not wanting to get into the details outside our house. “Please see the aforementioned note upstairs for explanation.”

  “How about you just give me the breakdown before you run off to your sleepover.” The edge to his comment was barely noticeable, and I wondered if he'd meant it to be there.

  “So...the Rev is dead,” I said, selling that fact like the bonus it was.

  “Casualties?”

  “Nearly, but no. There weren't any.”

  “Do I only need one guess as to who the 'nearly' was?”

  “That's a safe bet.”

  “Why didn't you call me?” he asked, pulling me away from the hug I just dove into.

  “I did!” I argued. “...Afterward, at least. There was no time, Coop. Once I knew what was happening, the shit just hit the fan. Loads of it. Heaps even,” I said, trying to defend my actions. “It's not that I didn't want to.”

  “It's fine, Ruby. Don't worry about it. It would have been tricky to get away anyway,” he said, looking pensive.

  “Oh. Something more important than Peyta, me, and a crazed killer?” I asked, feeling slighted.

  “It's a long story. Maybe I'll leave you a note on the door,” he said with a wink, before turning to the entrance. “Enjoy your night, Ruby, but do me a favor? Keep those details to yourself. I don't need to know about that.”

  “Cooper...”

  “It's cool, Ruby. Just go.”