Haunted

by Amber Lynn Natusch

  “Why did you lie to me?” Sean asked, not realizing the shitstorm he was about to stir up.

  “Because I can,” I snipped. I was crying hard and there was no more hiding the fact as my voice cracked while I yelled, so I turned to face him.

  “That's mature, Ruby,” he replied.

  “And you would know so much about that, wouldn't you?” I said, laying the sarcasm on thick.

  “Why are you doing this?” he asked, trying desperately to see where all this was coming from.

  Like you don't know.

  “You seem awfully fond of questions at the moment, so answer me this: why are you here?” I asked, hands on my hips, blocking his path.

  “Jer called me when he saw you head into the bar. I'd put out the word that you'd ditched me and to call if you showed up anywhere,” he answered.

  “No, Sean, not why are you here?” I said, indicating the parking lot. “Why are you back?”

  “I told you,” he said with a shrug. “I need to talk to you.”

  “Why? Why do you suddenly need to speak to me so badly after months of nothing – no phone calls, no texts, no emails – nothing?” I asked, sounding as wounded as I felt.

  “I want to explain things,” he said, looking desperate. I only scoffed in response. “Listen, I know things left on a weird note, but—” he said as I cut him off.

  “You know nothing!” I shouted, turning to escape to my car. He snatched my ever-bruising arm to stop me. I winced in pain. “You left on a weird note? You left a clusterfuck, Sean. That's what you left.”

  “I had to!” he yelled in his defense as I again made my way to the TT.

  “Had to what?” I asked, refusing to look at him.

  “I HAD TO LEAVE!” he shouted. “I had no choice, Ruby.”

  I spun on my heels and he nearly crashed into me. We stood toe to toe as our argument escalated.

  “There are always choices, Sean, and it's abundantly clear which one you made,” I said, making a none too subtle reference to the Bitch, aka Sophie. She was bonded to the PC as their Healer through him. They'd spent centuries together, and from the writing on the wall, it seemed they would for centuries to come.

  I clicked the unlock button on the remote and the TT chirped, awaiting my arrival.

  “Ruby, you have to know that—” he started as I once again cut him off.

  “Sean, let me tell you what I know. I know I don't have to sit here and listen to any more of this tonight,” I said as I got into my car.

  He looked fraught with disbelief. He wasn't used to the new, more irrational me and seemed completely uncertain about how to deal, or how to react.

  “Ruby, please…I didn't want to, but I really had to leave,” he pleaded.

  “Maybe you did, maybe you didn't, Sean. Maybe you just did what you're good at doing because you sure as hell are good at leaving me,” I said, sounding calm but vicious.

  “That's not fair, Ruby,” he said, holding the car door open.

  “Fair?” I asked, getting back out of my car, wanting to get in his personal space to deliver one final blow. “You want to talk about fair? Nothing you've ever done to me was fair. You've always abandoned me when I needed you most. Is that fair?” I was on my tiptoes so I could spew forth my resentment right into his face. I wanted him to feel it.

  “You left me in a hospital bed after being attacked and nearly dying from exposure. You left me traumatized by the truth of what I was and the knowledge that you would likely have to kill me. Worst of all, you left me to deal with the backlash of everything that happened in Utah, with Eric and with Cooper. You couldn't even begin to imagine the shit I endured there and I will never fully disclose those events to anyone, let alone you.” Tears streamed down my cheeks at a rate they never had before, but my voice and my face became eerily calm.

  He looked stunned, like he'd seen a ghost. His eyes were empty, his face expressionless.

  “I never meant to abandon you, Ruby,” he said quietly, trailing off at the end. “And I always came back.”

  I lowered myself off of my toes, back down to my normal height before I wiped the final tears from my face and smoothed my clothes.

  “Yes, Sean, you did,” I replied. “When it suited your purpose.”

  He flinched before swallowing audibly.

  “There's a lot I need to make up to you, Ruby, it's just complicated,” he said, sounding solemn and defeated.

  “Then let me un-complicate it for you, Sean,” I said, sliding into the driver's seat of the Audi. “Do what you do best – just leave.” I slammed the door and fired the TT up, peeling out of the spot in reverse before shoving down the clutch and popping it into first gear, spitting up gravel as I blew past him.

  Maybe I'll do the leaving for you.

  * * *

  I drove north on I-95 feeling very alone. After putting about thirty minutes and forty-five miles between me and the Chernoble-esque meltdown that had just occurred, I started to realize that though my sentiments were valid, my presentation of them was not. I just vomited three months of emotion all over Sean and left him to fester in it. My pain was so raw that I needed him to hurt too, even if I achieved that through low blows. My shame seemed linked to my odometer – with every mile it increased.

  I thought of how seeing Sean used to infuriate me in a way that oddly made me happy. I remembered his uninvited drop-ins which always led to an amazing meal, his obsession with Dunkin Donuts and his contention that their coffee could cure anything, and his uncanny ability to charm the pants off of anyone in a room but only if he wanted to. Regardless of everything he'd done wrong in my eyes, he didn't deserve what I had just dished out. The realization left me in a bit of a quandary. I wasn't sure how things would continue from that point on, afraid that I had done irreparable damage with my outbursts.

  As I mulled over all the possibilities in my mind, the song "My Immortal" by Evanescence filtered through the speakers and my consciousness. Its profound lyrics about love and leaving, inescapable reminders of a relationship past, the hurt and pain left behind, and the realization that time did not heal all wounds could not have been more apropos. My wounds weren't healing. My pain wasn’t subsiding. Time didn't stand a chance.

  The song continued to tug at my already over-stretched heartstrings, and the familiarity of emotion was almost too much to bear. The singer’s voice was eerie and sad, the string orchestration haunting, and the last lyrics she sang plagued my mind as she suddenly countered all of her earlier pain-filled words with one final truth – she was still his.

  I quickly turned the stereo off. I didn't feel like listening anymore.

  12

  Emotionally exhausted by the time I got home, I parked the car in front of my building and schlepped my way over to unlock the exterior entrance. The overhead light was out in the hallway, making it impossible to see my way up the stairs. I sighed and fished my phone out of my bag to help illuminate the way.

  That’s an appropriate ending to my stellar evening.

  I made a mental note to get a new bulb for it the next day and made my way up to the apartment door. After struggling with the lock for longer than I appreciated, I stumbled into the house, kicking the door closed behind me. Frustrated with the events of the evening, I was about to slam my bag down on the floor – until I saw Peyta sleeping soundly on the couch.

  Shit! I totally forgot.

  I froze and waited to see if I'd woken her. It was 2:05 a.m., not exactly a great time to be startled awake. I saw no movement, so I quietly made my way down the hall to my room. Being old, my building was notorious for being not-so-quiet, and it forced me to tiptoe my way around the known squeaks in the floor. Once I made it through the corridor of noise-mines, I gingerly closed my bedroom door behind me and flipped on the light. I sighed when I saw the mess I'd left getting ready for the show. MAC makeup compacts were strewn about in front of the antique changing mirror that sat propped against the wall, clothing inhabited my bed, my chair and the
vast majority of the floor, and every single drawer in the room stood open with its contents drooling out of it. I knew I wasn't going to bed anytime soon.

  I walked to the bay window that looked over the street. I parked myself on the window bench I had custom made and upholstered, wanting to gaze at the starlit sky. Portsmouth was a small enough city that even with its lights aglow, the stars could easily be seen at night. I loved it.

  I stole a glance at the emptiness of the streets below. The bars in town were closed by that time so there wasn't much action downtown. The Audi was safe and snug in her spot in front of the building, but she wasn’t alone. Across the street and down from her, I noticed some movement near a parked car. The area was poorly lit with a light out in the street lamp above, but it didn't matter. I knew the outline as well as my own; I'd seen it in my dreams for over a year.

  Sean stood against his Mercedes, back lit from a functioning light fifteen yards away. Though I couldn't see his face, I knew he was looking up at my room. I stood up quickly and walked over to the wall switch to kill the overhead light; I wanted to watch him without being watched myself.

  Pressing myself flat across the window seat, I peeked up over the sill to watch him. It was completely and utterly boring. He didn't do anything, not even move. At one point a patrol car stopped and the officer got out to talk to him, but even that ended with nothing but the guy getting back in his car and leaving.

  Good to know that loitering and stalking are cool around here.

  After about thirty minutes of the Mexican standoff he was unaware we were having, I decided to call it a night. I crawled onto the floor and over to the bed, yanking the comforter along with my wardrobe onto the floor. I wrapped the queen-sized down blanket around me like a burrito and flopped onto the bed. I lay facing the clock and just stared at it. I was exhausted, but something was unnerving me enough to keep me awake.

  Why is he just sitting out there? What's he waiting for?

  After twenty minutes, I decided I couldn't sleep until I knew what he was up to. I resumed my post by the window only to find he was no longer by his car. He was nowhere to be seen at all.

  Huh? His car is still there…

  I grabbed my armchair and pulled it up to the window before collapsing into the pile of clothes atop it. My knees bent until they met my chest and I wrapped the blanket tight around me.

  What to do, what to do?

  At that moment I heard the apartment door open loudly followed by footsteps that echoed down the hall. It was an all-too-familiar sound; Cooper had been making that entrance for months. True to form, his footfalls weren't the only ones I heard.

  Guess I'm really not getting any sleep tonight.

  I remembered yet again that Peyta was sleeping on the couch and tried to get out of my down-filled cocoon to remind Cooper and company to try to keep the volume down to a dull roar. Before I could untangle myself from the comforter, my bedroom door opened and light from the hall spilled in around the figure standing in the threshold. I stared at the reflection in the window ahead of me. It was the second time that night I'd seen him illuminated that way. I wasn't sure what to do, so I opted for nothing at all.

  There was a moment or two of total hesitation on both sides – no movement, no speaking. It was starting to make me uncomfortable and nervously itchy, my skin crawling under the growing silence.

  Thank God he finally broke it.

  “I'm not leaving,” Sean said softly.

  The way he said it was less “I'm not leaving this room” and more “I'm not leaving you”. I preferred the latter and was praying that for once I'd inferred something correctly.

  I turned to face him. He'd made no advance into the room, but rather stood statuesque in my doorway like shadowy framed art.

  “I just wanted you to know that. I'll let you get some sleep now,” he said, turning to leave.

  I decided to blurt out the first thing that came into my head in response.

  “Why were you sitting outside?” I asked, wishing immediately that I hadn't.

  “I was waiting for Cooper. I figured it was highly unlikely that you were in the admitting mood, so I waited for him to get home and followed him up. He was in no shape to argue.”

  “No, he usually isn't,” I muttered under my breath. “Sean, listen. I need to say something, too.”

  “Can I come in?” he asked. “Or should we continue this conversation with your door open and Cooper looming over my shoulder?”

  He looked backwards into the hall and I heard feet shuffle then Cooper's door slam. Apparently he thought there was going to be some fireworks and didn't want to miss them. I sighed out of sheer frustration.

  “Yes. Come on in, but don't slam the door. Poor Peyta is trying to sleep, though trying seems to be the operative word.” I jumped up from the chair when he turned on the light, remembering the state of my room. “Um, sorry. I had to leave in a hurry tonight. I was going to clean it tomorrow morning,” I said, mildly embarrassed. “I wasn't really expecting company.”

  He smiled weakly.

  “I’m pretty sure I've seen your place in states far worse than this one,” he replied, taking in the view.

  I flinched at his choice of phrasing. The memory of the veritable crime scene I’d created in my apartment when Eric attacked both Cooper and I flashed through my mind. Sean stepped towards me with an outstretched hand, only to stop himself a couple feet from me and drop his arm.

  “I'm sorry, I wasn't thinking. I didn't mean it like that,” he explained, looking mournful. It was my turn to return his weak smile.

  “I know you didn't,” I replied, believing that was the truth. “It's still raw, you know? Like I haven't had enough time to scrub certain things from my mind.”

  I was as uncomfortable as he was at that moment, so I started to nervously clean to distract myself. Thankfully there was more than enough to keep me busy for a long time.

  “So what did you want to say?” he asked, hovering between the bed and the closet door. I was starting to think he was purposely putting himself in my path so I would be forced to look at him.

  No dice.

  “I'm sorry I overreacted tonight,” I said, suddenly fascinated with the sock drawer that stood ajar.

  “Hmm…I wasn't expecting that,” he replied. “You shouldn't be. You were right. Everything you said was true.”

  It was my turn to be surprised. I literally dropped the pile of clothing I'd just amassed in my arms, and stared agape at him. He tried to stifle a little chuckle.

  “I came back to the States for one reason only – to explain things to you. I owed you that much,” he continued, still standing in front of me. “If you'd given me the chance to, I think it would have avoided the whole parking lot incident.”

  “Possibly. However, you shouldn't be surprised that several months worth of abandonment, confusion, and trauma wouldn't come out especially pretty.”

  “Touché.” He had the faintest curl at the corner of his mouth.

  “I meant what I said, Sean, but I didn't say it how I wanted to. I've got a lot going on right now. I'm pretty stressed and I've had nobody to confide in. It's been miserable,” I told him, feeling an instant sense of relief. The simple act of admitting that I couldn't deal with the chaos in my life, especially to him, seemed to ease my sense of impending doom.

  His brow furrowed and once again he moved towards me only to stop himself before making contact. He looked concerned.

  “What's going on?” he asked.

  “It's…it's Cooper. I don't really want to get into it now, Sean, it's late. I'm tired. It'll keep until tomorrow,” I said, not hiding the fatigue in my voice.

  “OK, but where do we go from here?” he asked, searching my face for answers.

  I looked around my room at the mess and at the clock on the stand. 3:02 a.m. The reality of the situation was that I needed to clean, and it seemed like Sean was up for explaining himself; I could multitask.

  “If you want to
get things off your chest, go for it. I've gotta clean this mess anyways,” I said, looking around the room. “Maybe we can clean up two messes at once.”

  He chuckled quietly at my play on words and proceeded to kick his shoes off and climb up onto my bed, which was the only clean surface in the room.

  “You want to know why I left, correct?” he asked. I gave him my best “seriously?” face and he took the hint. “Okay, okay, point taken!” he said, holding up his hands in surrender. “I'll start from the beginning. When I originally left, after I found out you were RB, I met with the Elders of the PC to see how things were going to be handled.”

  Handled?

  “When I arrived, they had already met and decided things. You were to die,” he said, sounding solemn. “You have no idea what I went through to change their minds…what I had to agree to.”

  “What? What did you agree to?” I asked, staring at him across the room. His expression was heavy.

  “It's nothing I want to get into right now.”

  “Horseshit! Tell me now or go. If we're going to do this, Sean, you're going to tell me everything,” I said, snapping at him more loudly than I should have.

  He looked at me conflicted. He didn't want or mean to tell me what he was about to, and he sighed aloud before starting.

  “I needed to make them see that I was serious, that you were not a threat to the humans,” he said before pausing yet again. “I swore it on my life.”

  I literally gasped at those words.

  “You did what?” I shouted, lunging towards him, nearly tripping on a rogue pair of jeans.

  “I told them that my life would be forfeit if anything happened – they could kill me,” he answered calmly.

  “Why? Why would you do that? Why would….”

  “Because they wanted you dead, Ruby, don't you understand? There was no negotiating; it was done. I wasn't there to inform them of the situation, I was there to receive your assassination orders,” he said, springing from the bed. I took a deep breath before speaking.