STRAYED

by Amber Lynn Natusch

  “Arianna was your protector, a task she charged herself with the day you were born. She never left your side, even if you couldn't have seen it. She was always nearby, watching over you.”

  “Then what happened? How did she die?”

  “I have already told you that, Ruby. You just haven’t put it together. Arianna meant the world to me.” He let his words hang in the air, waiting for me to put some piece of the puzzle in place. When it was apparent that I couldn't, he did it for me. “I loved her dearly. The picture I gave you was all I had left of her in this physical world.”

  And like a levy breaking, reality rushed over me, threatening to drown me and any shred of the life I had built with Sean. I've buried too many because of him...everyone I loved. That single sentence made sense of everything Gavin had been telling me for weeks. I absentmindedly reached into my purse for the photo, but it was gone. I looked up to see Gavin handing it to me. Gently taking it from him, I stared at the woman who was no longer a mystery. I finally knew who she was. Arianna. My aunt.

  And, finally, I knew what had happened to her.

  Chapter 19

  Although I could see Gavin was still speaking―offering me information―his voice became background noise, not able to penetrate my mounting grief. Another loss. Another casualty. How many more could I endure?

  I stared at Arianna while she smiled beautifully at a younger version of me, and I wondered how I didn't put it together on my own. Pure love emanated from her face when she looked at me, just like I could remember it radiating from her whenever she was around me. She was the only one I ever felt that from.

  “I have to go,” I whispered, unable to pry my eyes away from her smiling image. “I have to go. I'm so sorry.”

  When I stood to leave, he stepped in front of me, blocking my path.

  “Do not go there,” he ordered, his voice soft but warning. “If you play this card now, he will certainly know what you are. He cannot be trusted. I have told you this time and time again. You know now. Now there is no point in confronting him. It could mean your death.”

  “I don't care. I have to hear it from him,” I replied, my voice empty, completely devoid of any emotion. Shock did that; it sucked you dry of anything other than basic survival functions. Breathing. Heartbeat. And even those seemed to be slowly failing me.

  I was already dying.

  “Ruby―”

  “Gavin, I'm sorry, but I must.”

  With a gentle hand on his chest, I pushed my way past him. At first, he caught my arm, hesitation plain in his expression and the energy he exuded. But after a beat, he let me go. Perhaps he could feel my emptiness just as I had felt his anger earlier that night.

  “I will see you soon,” I said absentmindedly while I shuffled out the door.

  My feet carried me all the way to Sean's, but I remembered nothing of the trip. All I remembered was the desperation I felt whenever I stared at the photo in my hand. What he had broken could not be fixed.

  I forced myself to look away from the picture long enough to knock on his door. Within seconds he stood before me, his eyes warm, his smile genuine.

  “Did you get caught up with Cooper?” he asked, stepping aside to let me in.

  I stared at him while the tears pushed hard against my desire to contain them.

  Eventually, I lost.

  I watched as the photo I held tightly floated toward him, my hand moving of its own volition. The evidence was damning, and I suddenly felt a small part of me rage against using it to condemn him. Maybe ignorance really had been bliss. But I wasn't ignorant anymore, and the larger part of me just needed the truth at any cost.

  And I needed to hear it from him.

  “What is that?” he asked, meeting my extended hand to take hold of the metaphorical knife that would sever the final thread that held our relationship together. When he pulled it away, I watched us unravel.

  The instant he saw her―Arianna's smiling face―recognition flashed in his eyes before even he, in all his mastery, could contain it.

  “It's true,” I whispered, feeling a wash of salty water flood my cheeks.

  “Who gave you this?” he demanded, eyes darkening.

  “Tell me what you did,” I countered, ignoring his question. My words were barely audible to my own ears. “For once, Sean, just tell me the truth. All of it.”

  He looked at the picture again.

  “I didn't know,” he started, unable to pull his eyes up to meet mine. “I swear I didn't know.”

  “Didn't know what?” I cried. “Didn't know I loved her more than anyone? That she was the one person that made my entire childhood survivable? Or that for more than a year I've barely allowed myself to think of her because her disappearance was more than I could bear? Which would make you feel better about this?”

  “Ruby―”

  “No, Sean! No! You don't get to 'Ruby' me, not about this. Just tell me what you did,” I yelled, balling my hands at my sides, my entire body rigid with anger. “I want to hear you say it.” His expression hardened further, but there was no stopping me. “Say it!” I screamed, my ears crackling from the pressure and force behind my words.

  “I did what needed to be done,” he said coolly.

  “No,” I snarled, charging him. “Say. It. If you are man enough to do it, be fucking man enough to say it.”

  He stared down at me, his eyes an ever-changing shade of green. A war raged within him, and his eyes were the only indication that he was feeling anything at all.

  “I killed her.”

  “Why?” I wailed, sorrow overtaking my rage.

  “She shouldn't have even existed.”

  I scoffed, a hysterical laugh escaping me.

  “Why? Because she was fey?”

  His eyes narrowed at my question.

  “Yes. She deserved to die,” he growled. “Just like the rest of them.”

  The rest of them.

  “Oh my God,” I whispered, my epiphany providing a narrow window of clarity amid my raging storm. “You killed my parents, didn't you?”

  “No, Ruby―” he started, his vibrant green eyes full of horror.

  “You did! It all makes so much sense now,” I rambled, cutting him off. “All this time, all this time you've lied to me.” The rage within me was nearly boiling over. “You lied to me! You took them from me too!”

  “No,” he protested, attempting to deflect my anger with his outstretched arm. “The only time I ever saw your parents was when I came upon their corpses that night. They were already dead. I told you that there was no trace of the supernatural at their crime scene except for the trail that you left behind. Your parents were human. I had no reason to kill them.”

  And that's where he was wrong. There was nothing human about them. And it had taken me that long to put that piece of the puzzle together because I'd been far too preoccupied with Arianna to even realize the implications of my father being Gavin's brother.

  He and my mother were fey.

  “You had every reason to harm them,” I growled, poking an accusatory finger his direction.

  “You're not making any sense, Ruby.”

  I laughed the laugh of a woman who was on the edge.

  “You're a liar and a murderer. Everything he said about you is true. I'd bet my life on it now.”

  “Who? The old man?” he asked, grabbing my arms, his massive hands encircling my biceps. “Who is he?”

  “The Chameleon,” I spat, my anger overriding my discretion.

  “There is no such being,” Sean argued, his eyes bleeding to black.

  “There is, and here's the kicker: he's my uncle.”

  “The Chameleon is a myth.”

  “Is that what you tell yourself because you haven't been able to catch him?” His nostrils flared wildly at my slight. “Whether or not you believe he is or isn't the Chameleon isn't the point, Sean. Gavin is old, really old, and most definitely supernatural, and for whatever reason, you can't sense him. Hell, he's b
een in your presence twice now, and you had no fucking clue,” I said with an unstable laugh. “He's also ruthless and evasive and morally questionable, but thus far, he hasn't proven himself a liar. That picture is proof that all the wretched and depraved things he said about you are true. It's no wonder you didn't want me sniffing around in your past. You're beyond eyeball deep in shit now.”

  “I don't care what you think of him, you cannot believe what he tells you, Ruby. He's―”

  “He's what, Sean? Lying to me? No, I don't think so,” I snarled, cutting him off.

  “He can't be trusted. You know nothing about this creature who claims to be a myth. A legend. Folklore. He cannot be who he says he is because there is no Chameleon.”

  “Wrong,” I argued. “I have seen his illusions―his ability to change form. He is who he claims to be, and he's been under your nose for over a year and you had no clue.” I glared at him, my temper rising exponentially. “Do you want to know the worst part? He's fey too. My uncle is fey.”

  I left him to put the rest of the puzzle together in his mind. When his eyes went wide, I knew the picture was complete.

  “Impossible.”

  “Very possible.”

  “No. It isn't.”

  “Why, because you'd have to kill me if I were? Because I don't deserve to exist, like Arianna, who, by the way, was my aunt?”

  “Lies,” he snarled, though even under all his bravado, I could feel uncertainty emanating from him.

  “Your pride knows no limits, does it?” I asked incredulously.

  “Nor does your lack of judgment,” he growled, his black eyes boring holes into mine. “You have put your faith in one who is clearly manipulating you.”

  “Maybe,” I drawled, considering his assessment. “But I can rectify that now, Sean.” My words were venom spewed alongside a forked tongue. Rage had come to fill my emptiness, and it was a welcome guest. Anger was always the best companion when faced with complete and total emotional devastation. “I trusted you―put my faith in you―and you took nearly everything from me,” I said, my voice and body as cold as the chill of winter. “No more, Sean. I won't let you take any more.”

  Emerald pushed through the blackness of his stare. He was no longer the hardened warrior, callous and unrepentant; he had again transformed into the man I'd grown to love, helplessly looking on as the life he'd only just started to build rapidly slipped through his fingers. The writing was on the wall.

  Without another word, I turned to leave.

  “Ruby!” he shouted, grabbing me from behind. I struggled instantly, thrashing against his hold. “Ruby, please. Don't do this.”

  “Let me go!” I yelled, wriggling away from him. “Unless you plan to kill me too.”

  Scarlet growled at my suggestion.

  He dropped my arm, the pain he felt at my words plain in his eyes.

  Unfortunately I was too overcome with rage to care.

  I ran down the stairs, wanting to escape before my protective armor of hate started to give way to the sadness it encased. But something deep within me couldn't let me leave. Not just yet.

  Not before it made sure things would never be repaired between us.

  Turning slowly, I glared up at him.

  You will regret this, Scarlet warned, sensing that I was about to do something damaging. I was already rehearsing the line in my head. Ignoring her, I opened my mouth to deliver my final blow

  “You worry that you'll turn out just like your father,” I said to him, my voice cold and harsh. “You shouldn't. You are already far worse than that.”

  I saw him flinch before I spun around and ran down the few remaining stairs, crashing out of his building―out of his life. Sprinting through the streets of Portsmouth, all I wanted was the safety and comfort of my own home. The unlocked exterior door greeted me, allowing for quick entry. I slammed it behind me, immediately falling back against it before I slid to the floor and cried. The emotions that anger had kept at bay flooded me while I tried unsuccessfully to keep them away. I couldn't cry hard enough to quell them as they crashed on me in waves, suffocating me. Crushing my heart.

  What had I just done?

  The footsteps that approached me were only a few stairs away by the time I heard them.

  “Ruby?” Alistair's voice was quiet and cautious. “Love, what's wrong? Has something happened?”

  I pried my head from my between my knees where I'd buried it and looked up at his pained expression. After several attempts to tell him about what had gone down, I gave up and dropped my head to my knees again, crying harder than before. I felt him slide down the door to sit beside me before he slipped his arm around my shoulders, pulling my limp body against his.

  Then he sang to me.

  His voice was melodic and pure, and it lulled me into a catatonic state. I liked it there. Nothing hurt.

  We must have sat there for hours, Alistair singing to me while, one by one, the others came down to see what the fuss was about. He dismissed them each quickly with a wave of his hand—even Cooper. I ignored them entirely. As long as he kept singing, everything was okay.

  But even I, in all my grief, knew that he couldn't sing forever.

  Chapter 20

  I didn't leave my room for days. With the exception of a few necessary trips to the bathroom, I holed up behind a locked door under a fortress of blankets, numbing myself to everything around me, including the decision I had made. While I hid away from the pain I felt and the truths I'd uncovered, the world carried on without me just as it had when I had disappeared.

  Basically, it was as if I had again.

  The only thing I did do was text Gavin the night it had all gone down with Sean to warn him about what I'd done—that I had basically spilled the beans regarding him to Sean. He never responded. Knowing that he always seemed two steps ahead, my guess was that he already knew and was long gone, leaving me to my fate. Maybe it was the fate I deserved.

  Beyond sending that message to Gavin, I didn't do anything. I didn't care if the shop was opened, if I ate, or if death was on its way yet again. I didn't take any calls. I didn't shower. I didn't talk to anyone who came to the door. I offered no explanation to anyone other than the obvious one they received the night I cried in the stairwell while Alistair tried to console me: Sean and I were through. I didn't bother to expand on that or anything else. All I wanted to do was block everyone and everything out of my mind.

  And I had nearly done just that until Beckett knocked on my door one night, insistent that I let him in. After thirty minutes of trying to get me to open the door, he jimmied the lock himself, walking in with a tray of food that he placed beside me as I sat on the window seat. I didn't even turn to look at him.

  “Ruby, you need to eat, love,” he insisted softly, nudging the plate toward me.

  I didn't acknowledge him or his words.

  One of the things that I enjoyed most about Beckett was his ability to be silent. A man of few words. Instead of pressuring me to do what he asked, he just sat next to me and stared out the window. I had no clue how much time had passed by the time he finally spoke again.

  “You've lost a lot. That pain will not easily subside, Ruby, but to cause yourself more on top of it is a punishment that you do not deserve, even if you don't see that.” I turned to see something that Beckett so rarely showed―emotion. “Your tryout is tomorrow. Cooper has told us about how much you love to dance, and I remember the sparkle in your eyes whenever you mentioned the audition. You won't be able to perform if you don't eat.”

  Without any further preamble, he picked up the grilled cheese sandwich he had made for me and dunked it in the lukewarm tomato soup beside it. He presented me with it, cupping his free hand beneath the sandwich to catch any drips. It was an incredibly loving gesture.

  To acknowledge it, I took a bite.

  “I don't want to sit by and watch you suffer, Ruby,” he said, wrapping his arm around my shoulders, hugging me from behind. “Please don't turn away f
rom something else you love.”

  With that, he kissed me on the cheek and left me alone. He always knew when to make his exit. I contemplated his words, thinking that he was truly a fountain of wisdom and truth when he felt like being one. Even in all my sadness, I knew he was right.

  I took another bite of his offering. Then another. Then another. Within minutes, I had scarfed down the entire tray of food. I hadn't realized how hungry I'd allowed myself to become. My depression had been all-consuming.

  Though I was far from pulling out of my funk, it was a step in the right direction―a much needed one. I may have been able to hide from Sean—at least temporarily―but I couldn't hide from my life. Especially not the secrets that were unveiling themselves.

  With that thought in mind, I went to the kitchen to see what else I could pilfer to fill my belly and gain back some of the weight and strength I had lost while I had wasted away in my room. Thankfully, the others left me alone while I ransacked the cupboards and fridge. Beckett must have told them I'd be coming out and read them the riot act.

  Once my arms were filled with edibles, I promptly made my way back to my den of loneliness, but not to wallow. I had to prepare for my audition. There were clean clothes to search for, and there was stretching to be done. It had been a long time since I'd participated in a proper ballet class. That night in my room, I did my best to remedy that situation, latching onto the edge of my dresser as if it were the perfect barre substitute. I pliéd my way late into the night with a tiny smile on my face. Beckett was right; I couldn't turn my back on everything I loved.

  Some things were just a part of me.

  * * *

  After hours of preparation, very little sleep, and one nerve-induced vomit session, I made my way to the North End of Boston for the open audition. I may have worked with the director of the company before, but I knew that guaranteed me nothing. Pam wasn't going to call in any favors, either. It was just too risky after I blew her off, even though the situation had warranted it. The reality was that tonight I was just another face in the crowd. Another body on the dance floor.