Scarred (12 page)

Not wanting to stick around and find out exactly what that was, I tried my best to duck out of his enigmatic ramblings as politely as possible. He may have meant well, but he totally creeped me out, and I was itching to bail.

“I will,” I said, backing out of the door. “You won't have to worry about that, Gavin.”

“For your sake, dear, I hope I don't.”

I hurried back to the store, trying to make sense of what had just happened. Nothing about his behavior came off as malicious in any way, but there was something to his energy—something
familiar
. He was warning me, but why? What did he know that he wasn't saying? Had he seen the murder that night and not reported it? It would have made sense, but there was something so personal about his message, like he meant it for me and me only. I started getting a headache from thinking on an empty stomach, so I let it go and planned to bring it up with Cooper when I saw him.

The bells jingled when I pushed the door open, startling Jay and Peyta both. It was a good thing I wasn't the Rev, being that neither seemed at all clued in to their surroundings and hadn't even bothered to lock the door. Not that it would have done much to deter him. They smiled when they saw me, though both looked somewhat bashful, moving away from each other enough to look more like acquaintances than friends.

“What are you two doing here today?” I asked, making my way into the showroom.

“We couldn't deal with Mom anymore,” Peyta replied with a sigh. “We needed to go somewhere.”

“Interesting choice of places to go.”

“I didn't think she would look here.” Peyta's cheeks blushed slightly as if her admission of wanting privacy told me more than it should have.

I decided to leave it be.

“I brought goodies,” I said, placing the grub down on the counter. “It's a ‘thank you for covering for me lately.’ I really appreciate it, P.”

“Thanks,” she said, rifling the éclair out of the bag, “but I'd love a
raise
more.” She shot me a smile with her eyes as she took a monstrous bite of her pastry. Jay laughed, ripping a chunk off of his quiche before tossing it into his mouth.

“Have either of you heard of utensils? They're
all
the rage these days,” I said, feigning disgust with their lack of table manners. I was going to go on an entire rant about it, but was cut short by the buzzing of my cell phone. I dug it out and flipped it over to see who it was.

Sean
. I hadn't responded to his last text, which had really been an answer in and of itself. Out of sheer stubbornness or indignation, he'd upgraded to actually
calling
, so I knew I couldn't blow him off; he'd call until I answered.

“Yeah,” I grunted, the phone tucked against my shoulder as I walked to the back work area with my coffee. I didn't want to talk in front of the other two.

“So
now
we're talking?” he asked, voice playful.

“Did I have a choice?” I asked, contempt in my voice. I wasn't sure I was up for another interaction filled with a montage of emotions and mood swings.

“You
always
have a choice, Ruby,” he said, playfulness gone. “That's never changed.”

“Whatever,” I said, hoping to move things along. “You in a better mood today?”

“Yes.”

“I haven't spoken to Alan yet,” I said, beating him to what I assumed was the punch.

“I'm not calling about that. I know you haven't,” he said, sounding incredibly certain of himself.

“And how do you know that exactly?”

“You said you'd let me know. I haven't heard from you, therefore you haven't spoken to him.”

“And this isn't a friendly reminder call?”

“No,” he said, “it's an asking you out for dinner call.”

I hadn't expected him to say that, and I almost launched into my prepared response that I'd been working up quickly in my mind. I stumbled over my words for a minute trying to collect them.

“Oh...you're...you're asking me out?” I said, before muttering to myself. “Didn't see that coming.”

He laughed.
Really
laughed.

“You're relatively easy to derail, Ruby. It's quite endearing,” he said, collecting himself. “So what do you say?”

“Um...yeah. Sounds good,” I said, hesitating slightly. “But no bullshit, Sean. You pull any stunts like the other night and I'm bolting, understand?”

“No bullshit,” he repeated. “Got it.”

“Are you mocking me?” I asked, voice rising.

“Only a little,” he replied, no apology in his voice. “It's so hard not to sometimes.” He broke into another laugh. Two in one phone call was beyond uncharacteristic. “I'll pick you up at six then?”

“You're picking me up?” I asked, scratching my arm nervously. “This all seems so official, Sean. It's...it's
weird
. Can't I just come over or something? Grab some takeout?”

“If that's what you want.”

I thought for a moment before responding. Up until the other night, things with Sean had been steadily improving, and we were just to a point where I could see some sort of future for us. An official date seemed too much like a milestone—a tipping point—however benign or mundane it may have actually been. With our regression the last time I saw him, I wasn't sure we needed that. What I
did
need to know was that things could go back to what they'd been, before I could move forward. I loved Sean, and I knew it, but love alone wasn't enough. If there was no stable foundation beneath us, we were destined to crumble, no matter how many times we rebuilt.

“That's what I want. I'll see you at six.” I hung up before he responded and walked back out to the storefront. Jay looked at me intently while Peyta yammered on about some new documentary that was going to blow the lid off of Big Pharma and their hold on the U.S. government.

“What did he want?” Jay asked.

“Why do you need to know?” I countered defensively.

“After the conversation we had the other night, I'd say you
owe
me.”

“Fine,” I snapped. “He wanted to go on a date. Happy now?”

“Extremely,” he replied, a smile growing broad across his face.

“Why do you care so much?” I asked, stepping closer to him.

“Because he
needs
you,” he said, unfazed by my approach. “He's never said as much, but I can see it. You save him from becoming what he fears most.”

“Sean doesn't need
anyone
,” I scoffed. “He's the very definition of self-sufficient.”

“In some ways, yes, but in others he's completely lost, Ruby. He doesn't let you see that. He doesn't
let
anyone see it at all, actually, but I know it’s true. You don’t put up walls as thick as he has for any other reason.”

“I'm with Ruby on this one, Jay. Sean's one serious hardass,” Peyta added.

“Say what you like, ladies, but there's more to him than meets the eye. You'd both be wise to remember that,” he said, his tone cautionary.

I shrugged him off and returned to the back, not wanting to think any more deeply on the subject at hand, or on the future date that was looming. Determined to do something productive, I pulled out a necklace I had been working on, piecing together sea glass and driftwood into an intricately woven pattern. I stared at it for the longest time trying to read the piece, wanting to see where I should go with it next. The task seemed to become more futile as I stared at it. The harder I focused, the less I could see.

I rummaged through the container of glass, picking up pieces to see what looked right—what fit—but nothing did. Too entrenched in figuring it out, I lost all perspective and flow of the piece, no longer allowing it to just happen, but trying to force the steps. I sighed and threw it down on the table before pushing my stool away and heading over to the wall of materials. I needed to do something else, change gears for a while.

Staring at the shelves of plastic containers, I finally grabbed a few boxes of random scraps and gems, hoping inspiration would strike elsewhere. When I plopped myself back down at the workbench, I caught a glimpse of the necklace in my peripheral vision. I begrudgingly turned my attention back to it, and that's when I saw it. Through the side of a plastic container, I saw a round, vibrant green piece of sea glass. Excited, I dug it out of the pile and strung it onto the silk cording. It was exactly what I'd needed.

Four hours later, I finished the necklace and made a gorgeous pair of earrings to accompany it in the showroom. I took it out to show Peyta, who insisted on staying and working on the reorders for the month. She applauded as I modeled the set for her before placing it on display.

“That one bead is
fantastic
...it makes the whole piece,” she said, fingering the green piece of glass.

“I guess it just needed that final piece to make it whole,” I replied.

“We all need that,” Jay said, standing across the room from us. His words were heavy, and I couldn't help but wonder to whom that comment was directed. Was he reiterating his earlier point about Sean, or was he telling Peyta that she was his final piece, that which would make him whole? I felt the tears stinging the back of my eyes and needed to escape before they had a chance to.

“I should go get ready,” I said, ducking my head. “Thanks for staying today, P. You too, Jay.” I snatched my purse and managed to get out of the building before my right eye betrayed me, a single tear rolling down my face. I wiped it quickly away, swallowing hard. “He was talking to Peyta,” I whispered to myself, unlocking the door to the second floor.

Cooper had returned while I was gone, and I walked into the delicious aroma of his lasagna cooking. He usually made three at a time, and there were never any leftovers.

“Were you in the shop?” he asked, poking his head into the hallway.

“Yeah...I needed to do some work. I haven't been there much lately.”

“You got plans tonight?”

“Mmhmm,” I said, wishing for a clever way out of telling him where I was headed. I never came up with one. “I'm heading over to Sean's. Gonna grab some takeout on the way.”

I heard his rhythmic chopping come to an abrupt end. He was silent, tucked away in the kitchen where I couldn't see him. I didn't want to face him, but I needed to. Whatever was going on between us was growing too large to ignore any longer. We had things to figure out.

“So you have a
date
?” he asked, still not moving.

“Yes,” I said, quietly. “That's what he called it.”

“And what do you call it?” he asked, voice eerily calm.

“A date, I guess,” I said, turning the corner to face him. He stood gripping the countertop as though he'd fall without it. “It's a date.”

He picked up the knife and continued chopping feverishly.

“Coop, maybe you should slow down a bit,” I said, wincing as I watched his fingers narrowly escape a few of the slices.

“Maybe you should go and get ready,” he said, biting off his words. “Wouldn't want to make Captain Personality wait.”

“Cooper, I—”

“It's fine, Ruby.”

“It's
not
fine, Cooper. Things aren't fine and I don't know how to make them fine again. How can we fix this? I hate it... I hate feeling like you're slipping away,” I said, reaching for his arm. “There has to be a way to make things like they used to be.”

“But there isn't,” he snapped, stabbing the knife into the cutting board. “I told you that something changed in me that night when I killed Gregory. I haven't looked at you the same since then. I can't explain it.”

“Well
try
!” I yelled. “If this is about the full moon—”

“It's not about
fucking
, Ruby. I've done more of that in my life than you could wrap your tiny little head around. You needed help—I wasn't going to leave you to drop your pants for some random just so Scarlet could satiate her need.” He stormed out of the room, trying to escape me, but I was hot on his heels, not letting him run away from the battle.

“Cooper,” I said, following him into his room, “I know you love me...I love you too, but—”

“Don't you dare say it,” he said, slamming his dresser against the wall. “There's no '
but
' to be had. I feel something for you that I've never felt for anyone.
Ever
. It makes me crazy to know you're in danger. I lose sleep when you're not around. I feel more protective of you than any other person in this world.”

“Except Peyta,” I whispered, pointing out what I thought was obvious.

“No, Ruby. Even more than Peyta.”

“But that doesn't make any sense—”

“I
know
it doesn't make any sense, Ruby, but it's how I feel. I'm connected to you in a way that's beyond comprehension. It's making me fucking crazy.”

“I'm sorry, Cooper...”

“Sorry is not going to help this time, Rubes,” he said, collapsing onto the bed.