“He really is telling you things now, huh?” Cooper asked incredulously.
“Shocking, right?”
“To say the least,” he scoffed. “Maybe you should have put out a long time ago.”
“I did. Didn't change much,” I countered. “I think this has more to do with nearly killing myself. It seems to have left a lasting impression.” Cooper's expression instantly saddened. “Shit! Sorry! I'm sorry, Coop.”
He inhaled deeply, trying to cleanse himself of the guilt that still lingered in him from the Tobias incident. Cooper, try though he did, just couldn't seem to shake his sense of responsibility for my actions that night. He seemed convinced that he should have been able to overcome the control Tobias exerted over him that night. The fact that for even the slightest moment he had shown hesitation when it counted spoke volumes about not only Cooper's mental strength but also our pack bond. Unfortunately for him, the memory of me slicing my throat across the blade that he held in his hand was still too fresh to ignore.
“It's fine, Rubes. Let's just move onto another subject, shall we?”
“Fine. Alan showed me something I didn't expect to see.”
“I'm afraid of where this is going.”
“You should be, but not for the perverted reasons you're thinking,” I started, pulling away from his hold to lean my back against the counter. “You remember when he was at the apartment the day my vision shit the bed?”
“Yep.”
“He was over for another reason that day. He'd wanted to show me something, which obviously didn't pan out well for him. But yesterday he brought it to me again. It was a letter from McGurney.”
Cooper shifted his weight forward on the stool.
“I'm listening.”
For the next few minutes he sat silently, taking in everything I told him about McGurney's murder, the contents of the note, what they could mean, and what Sean might do if he couldn't easily get the letter. While I was on a roll, I decided to throw in the bits about Gavin, Scarlet's most recent memory slip, and my standoff with Ronnie.
Cooper looked exhausted by the time I was done.
“Maybe less 'us' time isn't such a bad thing,” he said dryly. I slapped his arm in response and he rubbed it, feigning injury. “In all seriousness, Ruby, you can't keep stuff like this from me, or the rest of the guys for that matter. We're a pack and that has to mean something. If you can't rely on us to have your back, then who can you?”
“I know, I know, Coop. You're right. It's coming at me from all angles these days. And then there's the whole Lyla thing—I figured you needed some time to get your head around that.”
“Yeah, well...the boys are starting to come around. Janner's been pretty good about her the whole time. Beckett's just a bit quieter when she's present. But Alistair—wow. That boy is holding a serious grudge. I don't want to come down on him hard, Rubes, but he has to know he can't go after her.”
“You're right. He does need to learn that.”
“I just―” He cut his thought short, hedging for a moment before a huge sigh escaped him. “I just don't want to turn into every other alpha I've ever encountered or known. I also don't want to turn into Sean.”
His honesty was apparent, but underneath it lurked uncertainty. Perhaps it wasn't the time to point out that he and Sean were so alike in some ways that it frightened me every now and again. They'd even started finishing one another's sentences.
“You will never be like those other alphas, Coop,” I assured him, placing my hands on his shoulders and lowering my face to be level with his. “As for Sean, he's mellowing. You could do worse.”
“Maybe,” he agreed reluctantly. “Thanks for filling me in on everything, Rubes. I feel a bit better now.”
“I'm glad that my ever-mounting clusterfuck list could bring you some peace of mind.”
“What can I say? I find comfort in the familiar,” he said as he stood up. “I should get back up there. Alistair is attempting to do the plumbing today. I'm sure you can understand my concern.”
“Uh, yeah. Why don't we let Beckett do that? He's the one with experience.”
“You know Beckett secretly loves to be entertained.”
“Ugh. Just don't let them damage anything, okay?”
“Deal.” He swept me up into a crushing hug then kissed me on the top of my head before walking over to the front entrance of the shop. “You gonna be around tonight at all?”
“I should be. Ronnie said the wedding is in a week. I'm going to call P and see if she needs some help with the planning. I figured if she did, I could do that at dinner. Maybe Lyla would want to help?”
Cooper choked on a laugh.
“Good luck with that. Lyla isn't an especially girly girl.” He looked over his shoulder at me, a sad smile on his face. “At least she wasn't before. I don't really know her anymore.”
“You have time, Cooper. We all have time to get to know her,” I said softly. “Ask her. See what she says.”
He nodded.
“I will. Catch ya later, Rubes.”
* * *
And catch me later he did. Literally.
No sooner had I walked into the apartment after closing the shop, hypoglycemia making me shaky, than I was accosted by yet another memory that was not my own. It started as a whirring in my ear. A windy sound that I just couldn't suppress. Then the screams started. An unholy cacophony of tormented wails that threatened to sever my cerebrum in half, promising an acoustical lobotomy.
Clamping my hands down on my ears, I crashed to the ground. Cooper caught my head just before it hit, but he couldn't stop the noise. It got louder still.
Indecipherable words ricocheted through my mind, my consciousness chasing after them in a futile effort to make sense of what I was hearing. While this transpired, all I saw was black. Once again, no visuals accompanied Scarlet's memory, only sound. And this time it stayed that way.
“You understand the terms?” a distorted voice asked amid the chaos that surrounded it.
“Yes.” Scarlet's unamused tone was unmistakable.
“And you are still certain that this is what you want?”
“Why does everyone insist upon asking me that? I would not be here if I were not sure that this was what I wanted.”
“Careful,” the garbled voice warned. “Or you may not walk away from here at all.”
A high-pitched scream nearly ruptured my eardrums.
In a flash I was back to the present, propped up in Cooper's lap on the floor of my apartment, the boys hovering above me like a canopy of concern. My eyes darted frantically from face to face while my heart raced and chest heaved. What could be best described as a panic attack had taken me over, and I struggled against it, fighting to regain some modicum of composure.
I was failing epically.
“What happened?” Alistair asked, bending down to look me in the eye.
“I haven't a fucking clue, Alice,” Cooper growled, pulling me tighter to his body. “She walked in the door, wavered a few times, and then collapsed. She was awake but unresponsive.”
“Like she was in a daze?” Janner suggested.
“No. Worse than that.”
“Like I was trapped inside my own head?” I asked sardonically, knowing full well that was precisely what had happened—in a sense.
“Something like that,” Cooper replied, turning me slightly in his lap to better assess my expression.
“I'm okay, Coop,” I insisted, shying away from the intensity of his gaze. I tried to get up, but Cooper wouldn't allow that. He lifted me up and carried me to my room, setting me down gently on my bed. The others followed closely behind him.
“Explain,” he said sharply. I could feel his fear.
“I heard cries. Loud ones. They didn't sound human.”
“How did they sound?” Beckett asked softly, searching my face for clues I was sure he wouldn't find.
“Awful. They sounded awful. And pained.”
Beckett's perp
lexed expression marred his otherwise ruggedly handsome face.
“That's not especially helpful, love. Not given your past.”
“I know,” I replied with a weak laugh. “Hell, for all I know that could be a memory from my own past that I had suppressed. Maybe it's from back when I used to have blackouts. Maybe I had some sort of knowledge of what was going on back then but just couldn't tap into it? Maybe all the walls that once separated Scarlet and me are coming down...”
“I don't like it,” Cooper declared, his voice low and haunted. “I don't like it at all.” He sat down beside me, taking my hand in his gently and tracing the lifeline on my palm. “How can I keep you safe from your past when you don't even know what it is?”
I pondered his question for a moment before another one popped into my mind to take its place.
“What if we're looking at this all wrong, Coop? We're assuming it's bad―that all the memories and voices and secrets that are slowly being revealed are all bad ones. But what if this is a good sign somehow?”
“Bloody hell,” Alistair spat under his breath. “Now is the time she chooses to put a positive spin on something?”
“Shut up, Alice,” Cooper growled.
“I'm serious,” I argued, realizing that Alistair had a more than valid point. “What if somehow there's stuff I've suppressed or forgotten or never had access to before that could actually be helpful?”
“Doubtful. I think you need to tell Sean.”
“Sean knows.”
“Not about this one, he doesn't.”
“He will,” I replied, feeling that I was being bossed around by my alpha.
“You're damn right he will because you're calling him now.” He pulled his cell phone out of his back pocket and thrust it into my hand.
“He's busy, Cooper, and I hardly think that me hearing some screaming in my head is enough to pull him away from possibly finding the person-slash-persons-slash-supernaturals responsible for what happened to the boys and Lyla.” When my response was met with silence, I realized that we were missing someone. “Wait...where is Lyla?”
“Putting in the plumbing,” Beckett said with a sly smile. “Seems she can lay pipe better than Alistair.”
I couldn't help but laugh. It was poorly timed humor on Beckett's part, but it was so well executed. It seemed rude not to react.
“She stayed upstairs when the commotion broke out down here. She didn't want to interfere with pack affairs,” Janner added diplomatically. “I think she still feels a bit uncertain as to her role around here.”
“Oh,” I whispered, realizing that part of that was my fault. She had sought asylum with me in my home, and I had all but abandoned her two seconds after she arrived, leaving Cooper to deal with the ramifications once again. That sentiment killed my jovial mood in a hurry.
“Well, I think that's a situation we can actually remedy, don't you?” I asked the group, though my eyes were pinned on Cooper. “What do you think, boss? Should we jump her into our little freak-show family?”
“Yes.” His reply was short and to the point, but his energy was chaotic. Having her in the family made him nervous somehow. I think the responsibility of keeping another person safe made him highly uneasy.
“Done!” I said, turning to head upstairs. “I'll let her know she's stuck with us. Then I'll give her the news that her first task as an official pack member will be to see if Peyta needs help with the wedding planning.”
“There's no better way to test her ability to hang with us than forcing her to stare at gobs of wedding mags and see how she fares,” Janner said with a smirk.
“Excellent point, Janner,” I said, reaching for the doorknob.
“You can try to hide behind fluffy decorations and lace bustles all you want, Ruby, but this little problem of yours isn't going to go away just because you're ignoring it. And I'm sure as hell not going to let it slide, either,” Cooper called after me. “You can call Sean or I will, but he's going to know about this, impending wedding notwithstanding.”
“Fine,” I agreed as I walked out of the apartment, shouting up the stairs to Lyla. Come hell or high water, I was going to focus on something other than my own problems for a while. Helping Peyta plan for her big day seemed like a great way to do that, providing there was still something left to help with. I really wanted her wedding to be special; I knew it was going to be the only one she ever had. There was no leaving the PC, not in a way that one would want to, at least. I was determined to see nothing but smiles and happy tears that day.
I hoped that maybe, just maybe, if I put all my energy into that, it might actually happen.
* * *
But my energy soon found itself focused on Gavin. He was hellbent on meeting with me, and frankly, I needed to speak to him just as badly. I managed to excuse myself from the heated wedding cake debate that was taking place between Alistair and Lyla and made my way down to the shop. Having Gavin meet me there was risky, but mysteriously heading out of the house to go anywhere else without explanation wasn't going to happen either. Me forgetting to do something at REWORKED was not only believable but also likely. Nobody batted an eyelash when I said I needed to check the day sheet because I'd forgotten to close out when I left.
Maybe being a flaky business owner was finally working in my favor.
Beckett waved absentmindedly, unwilling to look away from the fight brewing over buttercream versus fondant icing. Janner gave me an apologetic smile while Alistair cursed a blue streak. That boy really could swear creatively when it suited him. Cooper gave me a quick nod while he hovered above the U.K. crew and Lyla. He looked like a really tightly wound bouncer who was just waiting for someone to throw a punch. In fairness, that possibility wasn't entirely out of the question. I kinda hoped Lyla might; in my eyes, it would serve Alistair right for his nighttime bathroom carelessness, which, from what I had been told, she'd had the pleasure of experiencing as well.
Free from any watchful eyes, I made my way downstairs and outside, walking the two steps to the shop's door. Who knew I could be outside for such a short time and still have the shit scared out of me?
“Lovely evening, isn't it?” Gavin said from behind me. I startled and turned to find the younger version of him staring at me with a wry smile.
“You asshole!” I hissed, my heart pumping wildly. Somehow I'd managed not to scream, though just barely. “Are you trying to get a whole apartment full of werewolves down here to kick your ass?”
He gave me his most unimpressed face.
“That hardly seems like a threat.”
“Well, you don't know what Cooper's like when he's pissed off, and I know you have that effect on him, so...”
“I wondered if you were going to meet me at all,” he continued, dismissing my warning. “You're late.”
“You try to be me and get out of my apartment without dubious stares and hour-long interrogations. Let me know how it goes for you,” I shot back while I fumbled with my keys. “I wasn't trying to avoid this meeting.”
“Yes, well, you can hardly fault me for my concern. You seem so disinclined to comply with my wishes most days.”
“Perhaps if you weren't such a creepy bastard about some things, it would inspire my confidence in you a touch more.” I finally found the shop key and reached to put it in the lock. Gavin's hand gently intercepted mine.
“Touché, Ruby. Touché.”
“You said you had something to tell me,” I whispered. “Something important. I'm assuming it's about London?”
“Cutting right to the chase, aren't we?” he asked, taking his hand from mine to rest it on the small of my back. He ushered me down the sidewalk and past the shop to the narrow alley that lay just beyond.
“Gavin, tell me what you need to tell me,” I snapped once we had the privacy of the alley. I was in no mood to jump through his hoops. I had enough on my mind as it was. “Or are you going to make this a big production?” He shrugged in response. “Fine. What exactly is it that you
want to riddle me with today, since you seem to have no intention of skipping the enigmatic mumbo jumbo and getting down to business?”
He made a wounded face, practically feigning a pout to complete the effect.
“Now Ruby, that would hardly be sporting of me, would it? I've observed you enough to know that you seem to adore a challenge, so a challenge is what you shall get.”
“Stellar.”
“Isn't it though? So, have you had a chance to show your beau the photo yet?” he asked before launching into his own rehearsed answer. “I'm quite sure you haven't, given that you're not a sobbing mess at the moment, which then begs the question: When are you going to get around to that?”
I looked down the darkened alleyway, buying myself time to construct an appropriate answer. Navigating my relationship with Gavin—if one could even call it that—was a precarious undertaking at best. I feared that saying one wrong thing would put me off the course that might lead to the answers I hoped for. I was also concerned that, if I continued to give him grief and balk at the evidence that he had already presented me with, he would not continue to furnish me with more. But on the flipside, I didn't want him to think I had bought into his scheme too much. I knew I needed to appear as neutral on the subject of the mystery photo as possible—interested, but not sold. Perhaps then he would give me what I wanted. We needed a break in the London matter, and soon.
“Timing is everything,” I volleyed, returning my attention to him. “I'm sure you understand that more than anyone. You may think I'm not especially clever, given all the dire situations you seem to always find me in, but I'm not nearly as blonde as one might be inclined to think. I have my ways of finding things out when it comes to Sean. I'll play my hand as I see fit to play it, if that's all right with you, of course.”
“Oh, a strategist. I like this revelation,” he purred, his eyes gleaming in the moonlight. “I like this very much, indeed. Perhaps you do have a trick or two up your sleeve, Ruby. I shall remember that from now on.”
“That's probably for the best.”
We stared at each other for longer than was comfortable, the sounds of the city filling the resulting silence.
STRAYED Page 9
