STRAYED

by Amber Lynn Natusch

  My mind reeled with possibilities.

  I had long ago surrendered the fantasy that I could have a slice of the American dream. Marriage. A home. The whole white-picket-fence package. But given the ease with which Sean and I fell into a normal, almost human rhythm, and with Peyta's nuptials just around the corner, I allowed my mind to wander into that long abandoned territory. It felt amazing.

  But so rarely in life does fantasy become reality.

  And my life proved too steeped in fact to incorporate such fiction.

  * * *

  Sean’s and my date ended perfectly.

  We were up till the wee hours of the morning talking, laughing, and having the kind of fun that we so rarely got to, and the next day I was exhausted. I wasn't excited that Gavin had something up his sleeve, but as it turned out, my worrying was for naught. Gavin never made good on his threat to see me that night. In fact, he didn't seek me out the day after, either. By the third day, I actually called him, wanting to know just how he was able to avoid Sean's supernatural radar.

  But he never answered his phone.

  When I went to his boathouse to find him, no one was there. For a brief moment, I wondered if something had happened to him. Maybe he hadn't avoided Sean's radar at all. Maybe he had been smack dab in the center of it and hadn’t known. It wouldn't have been the first time Sean made a situation appear different than it was. Maybe he made the human remark to throw me off. In truth, I wouldn't really have been upset to find out that something had happened to Gavin. But on the other hand, I knew I needed his shady ass. He appeared to have answers about Scarlet. Answers that she appeared to have no intention of giving me.

  Before I knew it, Peyta's big day had arrived, and I had to once again set Gavin's mysteries aside so I could be of use to someone else. In this instance, I was happy to do it. Peyta really needed something wonderful in her life, and Jay was just that. He loved her in the way that young girls dream about. And though Peyta was still quite young, life had aged her beyond her years. She was ready for this. As ready as anyone could ever be.

  Chapter 13

  “Ruby!” Peyta yelled from her bedroom, popping her head out of the closet just long enough to let her shrill cry penetrate the air.

  “P, what's the problem?” I asked, rounding the corner to assess what the current meltdown was about.

  “I can't find my something blue!”

  I sighed dramatically, thinking that it was hardly the time for her to start acting like bridezilla for a wedding that wasn't even really a wedding. She may have been about to be bound to Jay for eternity, but it wasn't exactly a traditional marriage. Not by human standards, anyway.

  “I'll find you something, I promise. Just relax a bit, would you? Please?”

  She removed herself from her tightly packed closet and took a cleansing breath.

  “I'm being 'that girl', aren't I?”

  “Yep. Sure are.”

  She scrunched her face up in disapproval and came to join me on her bed, plopping herself down inelegantly beside me. I grabbed her hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze to let her know that everything was going to be okay. Her mother still hadn't returned, and I was starting to fear that she hadn't been bluffing when she'd told Peyta that she wouldn't stand by and watch her do what she deemed to be the dumbest thing she could.

  “Oh!” I gasped, remembering my secret surprise. “I have a little something for you. It's sort of a combination of borrowed and new.” I quickly ran down the hall to where I had stashed my favorite pair of boots, deep in the linen closet. I hid them behind my back when I rounded the door frame to Peyta's room. “I thought that since this isn't really a traditional wedding, we could do something a little unexpected.” With that, I presented the boots for her approval.

  Her mouth hung open before the tiniest squeal escaped her. She flew off the bed and tackled the gorgeously worn-in Frye boots that dangled from my hands.

  “I can wear these?” she asked, looking like a child on Christmas.

  “You can have them,” I corrected while a smile crept across my face. “Which makes them new to you, yet sort of borrowed.”

  By her reaction, you would have thought I had given her my car. She immediately slipped them on over her pantyhose, looking slightly ridiculous in her petticoat, bra, and cognac-colored riding boots.

  “Ruby,” she said looking down at her newly acquired footwear. “This is the most perfect present ever.”

  “Of course it is!” I exclaimed, trying to keep from choking up. Peyta and I were not the best at dealing with emotions, so I did my best to keep mine at bay, regardless of how hard they pushed against me. “Now, I think it's going to be a little inappropriate, not to mention cold, if you don't put a dress on over that hot mess of an outfit.”

  She nodded and grabbed the plastic garment bag that hung over her closet door. With a quick tug on the zipper, she unveiled a stunning wall of white. She had gone shopping for the dress weeks earlier, and even after she had told me about the wedding, she refused to let me see the gown. She wanted me and everyone else to be surprised when we saw it, and I, for one, was.

  She delicately pulled the strapless dress out of its protective sheath and laid it on the bed for me to see. And boy, was it a sight to see. Layers upon layers of increasingly large feathers created the flowing skirt while the bodice was comprised of a simple sweetheart neckline, perfectly boned to offer the utmost in shape. It was a work of art.

  “I thought the feathers would look amazing in the snow,” she explained, fingering one of them gently.

  “Peyta, this is exquisite,” I whispered, still in shock. “May I?”

  With her permission, I pulled it off the bed and held it up. It was the perfect balance of volume and shape, especially for someone as petite as Peyta. Most dresses would have swallowed her whole.

  “What time is it?” she asked, looking around in an attempt to find her phone. Her room looked like a bomb had gone off in it. It felt like home to me.

  “Time to get you into this thing. I believe the show is going to start in a little bit.”

  “I'm going to need help.”

  “Pseudo maid of honor to the rescue,” I replied, unzipping the dress carefully so as to not catch the zipper on the feathers.

  While I prepared the gown, I saw the tag. It was made by one of the most expensive wedding designers I knew of.

  “Peyta, how on Earth did you get this? It must have cost a fortune!”

  She turned and looked at me shyly, clearly a bit embarrassed by the lavish gown she'd chosen.

  “He told me to spare no expense...to get whatever made me happy.”

  “Well, Jay really is one helluva catch then, because most men would have your head on a platter right now for buying a ten-or-more-thousand-dollar dress.”

  She looked away from me for a second before responding.

  “Jay doesn't know,” she whispered. “Sean bought it for me.”

  “He did?” I blurted out, totally shocked. Sean had seemed so unfazed by the upcoming binding. I knew he adored Peyta and thought that she and Jay were a perfect match, but I would never have thought he would go to such great lengths to ensure that her “big day” was all she could have imagined. I had clearly underestimated him yet again.

  The shame I felt was instant.

  “He's really something, Ruby,” Peyta replied sheepishly. “And I'm not saying that because he bought me a fancy dress. I haven't always had the nicest thoughts about him―words either, really―but he set all of this up for me and Jay. He knew Mom wouldn't be behind us even before she confirmed that fact, so he and the other brothers made sure that we could do this right. He wanted me to enjoy it.”

  I smiled while I fought back tears. Sean had given Peyta everything she could have ever wanted, including Jay. He had gone against tradition, as well as his birthright, to see that two people who loved each other could be together.

  Sean had done that.

  My Sean had done that.
r />   “Ruby?” Peyta called, leaning in to get my attention.

  “Yep, sorry,” I said with the slightest of catches in my voice. “Let's get this thing on you so Sean can see just how much dress five figures can buy.”

  Just as I finished lowering the gown over her head, someone knocked on the door.

  “Who is it?” I asked.

  “The mother of the bride,” Ronnie barked from the other side of the door. “Do I still get to be a part of this madness, or have I significantly botched that up?”

  “Mom!” Peyta screeched, lunging for the door while I struggled to hold her dress up so she wouldn't trip on her way.

  Ronnie stood in the doorway, looking uncomfortable and awkward. It was plain that she was not on board with Peyta's soon-to-be married status, but she had always been there for her daughter, and it seemed that she wasn't about to start bailing on her in that moment. Ronnie may have been a stubborn ass, but she wasn't stupid. Peyta was the best thing that had ever happened to her. She wasn't going to risk losing her.

  While Peyta crushed her mother in her arms, Ronnie's piercing gaze fell on me. It said, “you will make sure she is safe, won't you?” I nodded once in response, knowing full well that it was a promise I wouldn't have to keep. There was no way that Jay would let anything happen to her. Not while there was a heart still beating in his chest.

  “Do you like the dress?” Peyta asked her mother, twirling around while she held the bodice up with her hands. The act made her look far younger than she was.

  “You are as beautiful as I always imagined you would be on your wedding day,” Ronnie said with a smile. “Just younger than I had pictured.”

  “Mom!” Peyta snapped.

  A fight was inevitable if I didn't defuse the situation quickly. Unfortunately, that wasn't one of my gifts. Fueling chaos seemed to be much more my forte.

  “Ladies, ladies,” I said with an official tone. “We don't have long to get ready.” I stole a glance out of the bedroom window and saw that the tent was nearly full. “They'll wait on the bride for a while, but you know Sean's impatient. Wedding or not, I don't think I'd test him unnecessarily.”

  “Agreed,” Ronnie added, much to my surprise. “Let's get this over with. I love you, Peyta, but this isn't easy for me. I think you can appreciate why.”

  Peyta nodded silently, acknowledging what her mother thought was her worst-case scenario. Her eighteen-and-a-half-year-old daughter was not only getting married in a hurry, but she was marrying what Ronnie had spent the better part of her life running and hiding from. It didn't matter how much Cooper or I or any of the brothers had proven ourselves to Ronnie, old habits died hard, and to her, werewolves were always going to be something to run away from, not go running to. Marrying one was beyond unthinkable. Ironically, if she had really known the truth about whom her daughter was marrying, it most likely would have made werewolves look like a palatable alternative.

  “Good. Well, now that we're all on the same page, what else do we need to do?” Ronnie asked, making her way past Peyta and me to the closet to bury herself and her welling tears so nobody would see what we already knew. Under all that armor lay a loving, caring mother who was about to give her daughter away.

  “Once I get this dress fully secured, all we have left to do is a little hair touch-up, lipstick application, and hunt down something blue. Then we'll be all set.”

  Ronnie's face reappeared looking thoughtful.

  “I'll be right back,” she said before quickly exiting the room.

  Peyta looked at me quizzically, as if I would know what her mother was up to. Having no clue, I worked to fasten the zipper and clasps of her dress, then smoothed her flyaway hairs and handed her a tube of fire engine red lipstick. Just as she blotted her lips, Ronnie came into the room with a shit-eating grin extending across her face.

  “I think this will be perrrrrrfect,” she purred, unveiling her something blue.

  Peyta and I froze momentarily when we looked down at the royal blue, custom-handled handgun that Ronnie presented us with.

  “What the hell is that?” Peyta asked incredulously.

  “You needed something blue. I needed some peace of mind. I think this marries the two perfectly, no pun intended.”

  “Mom, you know you're crazy, right? Like truly crazy.”

  “I prefer practical, daughter of mine, and just think―if he screws up, you're all set to deal with him.”

  Peyta continued to eye the offering dubiously while a morbid thought crossed my mind.

  “Ronnie...that gun isn't loaded, is it?”

  “Well, it sure isn't going to do her a whole lot of good empty,” she replied, as though my question had been the most ridiculous thing she'd ever heard. “Remember, Peyta. This one still has the safety on it, so you need to click―”

  “MOM! Seriously!”

  “Okay, okay,” Ronnie barked, unloading the weapon as she relented. “Fine. Here. Will you take it now?”

  “Where in the hell am I supposed to put it?”

  “Well, you have a garter, don't you? What do you think those things are for?”

  For the next few minutes, I watched the two of them bicker back and forth. I should have been trying to mediate, but the whole thing was just so entertaining that I had to let it play out. I mean, really, who argues about where to put a firearm on her wedding day?

  Finally, in the name of saving time, I intervened.

  “Give me that,” I snapped, snatching the gun away from Peyta, who had only just grudgingly taken it from her mother. “Lift your dress up.”

  Without argument, Peyta hiked her dress up like a can-can girl, flashing her thigh-high hose, garter, and very barely-there underwear. I shoved the pistol into her garter belt to see if it would hold. When it crashed to the ground in response, I went with Plan B.

  “Get me some duct tape,” I demanded. Ronnie obliged, slipping out of the room for what seemed like only seconds before reappearing in the doorway with a full roll in hand. “Christ, Ronnie! Do you really have that stuff stashed all over your house?”

  “You never know when you might need it,” she said with a shrug. All I could imagine was rolls of it tucked away throughout her home, undoubtedly next to all of her beloved weapons, which always seemed to be nearby and at the ready.

  “You aren't seriously going to strap that thing to my leg, are you?” Peyta said in pure disbelief, her expression devolving even further.

  “Yes, I am, because I don't want to be up here when Sean comes looking for us, and we're already late.”

  “But, Ruby—”

  “No buts!” I snapped, ripping off a long piece of tape. “You keep it up, and I'll fashion you a chastity belt out of this, too. Those underwear aren't leaving much to the imagination.”

  “Ruby!”

  “Can it, Peyta,” I returned, trying to stifle the laughter that threatened to escape. The absurdity of everything was nearly too much to handle.

  And then Cooper showed up.

  “So Sean is getting a little edgy out there,” he called from the hallway while he approached Peyta's room. “If I were you, I'd get my ass―WHOA! Hey now, I'm not trying to see that! Jesus, give a guy some warning next time, would you?”

  Peyta scrambled to smooth her dress down while Cooper shielded his eyes. I was nearly suffocated by yards of silk and feathers in the process: the thanks I got for trying to get her downstairs and married before she and her mother argued their way through the event.

  Once I crawled out from under the canopy of white, I fixed the feathers along the bottom of Petya’s dress and let Cooper know he could open his eyes. He didn't at first, seemingly afraid that body parts he didn't want to see would still be hanging out, but once he did, he inhaled sharply at the beauty that was Peyta.

  “Aw, P,” he said, walking towards her.

  “No!” I cried, intercepting him. “Don't you dare smoosh her! You can hug her later, but not now.”

  He gave me a wry sideways glan
ce before gently brushing me aside to do exactly what he planned to―pick Peyta up and swing her around like he'd always done. In response, she laughed, just as she always had.

  “Come on, you two! You're killin' me here!”

  “Relax, Rubes. I can't mess her up. She's too pretty for that,” he replied, placing her back down on the floor. “But I mean it. Everything is ready to go. Sean seems really on edge for some reason, so I suggest we haul ass down there and get this started.”

  “Sounds good. I just need to get my dress on, and then I'm ready to go.”

  “Me too,” added Ronnie, already heading out the door toward her room.

  “I'll help Peyta down the stairs,” Cooper said, eyeing the dress dubiously. “I don't imagine that will be an easy feat.”

  “It won't, but don't you dare pick her up and carry her, Coop, or so help me I will beat you when I get down there.”

  “Sure you will,” he scoffed. “Right after you fluff all those feathers again.”

  I didn't even have time to retort. He scooped a chuckling Peyta up into his arms and whisked her out before I could.

  “I'll fluff your feathers,” I muttered under my breath as I stomped over to Peyta’s bedroom door to close it so I could dress in peace.

  Three minutes later, I emerged from the room in a navy cashmere sweater dress that was skintight but demure enough for a wedding with its knee-length hemline and full-length sleeves. I knew the tent in the backyard was heated, but I thought I would attempt to dress for the weather for once. When snow was on the ground, it was cold, plain and simple.

  Somehow, I was the last guest to arrive, earning me a disgruntled look from Sean, who stood at the front of the tent with Jay like a minister awaiting the start of the ceremony. But just as Cooper had said, there was uneasiness about him, and I could feel it from yards away. It did nothing for my confidence in how the bonding was going to go.