Haunted (12 page)

“The tattoo? It's pretty simple really, two capital 'R's', one facing forward, the other backwards, sharing the same spine, mirroring each other.”

“Does it have some significance? It seems odd otherwise,” I said with confusion in my voice.

“He said it's a family marking of sorts, that he found it while researching his roots. I think it's really cool,” she added.

I wasn't nearly as impressed with his crappy back alley tattoo, but I had to admit that he sounded pretty hot otherwise: six feet tall with long, ash-blond hair, and warm, brown eyes. He apparently had a body that “didn't quit”, too, which sounded promising to say the least.

She went on and on about him for half an hour – how he sounded cultured and worldly when he talked, his nearly unnoticeable accent that he credited to his Swiss childhood, how he listened so intently to her, like she was the most interesting person in the world, and his overwhelming curiosity to know everything about her. She had it bad for him.

“Well,” I said, trying to bring her back down from the cloud she was on, “he sounds better than what I have at the moment.”

“What do you have at the moment, exactly?” she asked. “You and Cooper are just friends, and don't get me started on that Sean guy. You and he aren't…?” she asked, trailing off as she wiggled her eyebrows at me in a highly suggestive way.

“No, Peyta. Sean and I are, well, I guess you could call us complicated?” I replied.

“Yeah, somehow I imagine everything with him is,” she said, raising an eyebrow with disdain. “He's got an amazing ass though, and did you see the size of his—”

“Yes, Peyta,” I said, wincing. “It was pretty hard to ignore.”

“I'll say. So you two haven't…?”

“No!” I shouted at her, turning red in the face. “What's with you horny teenagers? Is that really all you think about?”

She laughed at my naivete.

“No, we think about food, too,” she replied sarcastically, before making me even more uncomfortable. “I kissed Gregory. He was so surprised. You should have seen the look on his face.”

“I don't want to hear this,” I sang, plugging my ears with my fingers.

She laughed harder.

“You need to lighten up a bit, Ruby,” she informed me. “Maybe you and Sean should…you know.”

“One more word about Sean and you're sleeping on the fire escape,” I told her. “You might want to consult the weather channel before chancing that one. Supposed to be a frosty one.”

“Point taken…for now,” she said, smiling at me.

We made our way to our original places on the couch, resuming our posts in front of the TV. I stared blankly at it trying to erase the memory of Sean parading around my apartment in his underwear, as well as the knowledge that he'd had such a big impression on Peyta.

We slipped into a comfortable silence as we watched a horrible flick about a young girl infatuated with an older man who eventually kidnapped and killed her. The horrible acting aside, it did nothing to put my mind at ease. At the end of the movie Peyta announced her need for sleep and skipped down the hall to the bathroom, completely unfazed by what she'd just observed. I, on the other hand, couldn't have been more distraught. I had visions of police at my door at some ungodly hour of the morning to inform me that her body had been found, dumped over a ravine or fished out of the harbor. It kept running over and over in my mind with slightly differing scenarios, all of which were grim.

If this is what being a parent is like, I'm passing for sure.

I knew I wouldn't sleep, but headed to my room so Peyta could have her bed and some privacy. I couldn't wait for the night to be over; I was on emotional overload and had to get it out. Studio time was in order, and though it was too late to go upstairs, I had practice in Boston the next night with Matty. I hoped it would be my sanity saver – I was counting on it.

15

I walked out of the shop Monday night as soon as Peyta showed up for her evening shift. I'd done a quick debrief of what needed to be done for the weekly cleaning before leaving her to it. She asked if it was okay for Gregory to stop by the shop and I agreed as long as it didn't interfere with her work. For some strange reason I felt better knowing that they were at least meeting in my space, as if that somehow made her safer or gave me control over the situation. I knew I'd feel better once I met him and was hoping that she'd have him come to her birthday party that weekend. An unstable werewolf and moody PC assassin would be enough to scare the kid straight, or make him run. I was fine with either outcome.

As I made my way to the TT, I saw Cooper with his butt firmly planted on the hood, feet on the fender.

“The Audi is not a bench, Dickhead. Move it or lose it.”

He grinned as he hopped off the front end and walked towards me.

“Hey, Roomie, any chance you want to take me to B-town with you?” he asked, pouring on his charm of old. I hadn't seen it for a long time.

“Oh, so now it's 'Roomie' again? We're back on that level?” I asked, passive aggression lacing my remarks.

“Why are you being so touchy? I just need to get something in the city. Can I come or not?” he asked without a drop of that charm I'd been so happy to see just seconds before.

“Ah, that sounds more like it,” I fired back. “Yes, you can come as long as you only speak when spoken to.”

He shot me a sarcastic smile which I mirrored. It was an attitude standoff, and I excelled at those; he didn't stand a chance.

“Agreed.”

“Then hop in. You can take the car once I'm in class and pick me up after. I'm sure you can find something seedy and ominous to get into for a couple of hours.”

“You greatly underestimate my abilities, Ruby. I only need ten minutes for that to happen,” he replied.

“We all have our gifts, I guess,” I said, bringing the conversation to a grinding halt. I wasn't interested in going back and forth with passive hostilities for the next hour. I cranked the stereo up as we rolled onto I-95 south.

I sat silent, ruminating over the increasing number of clusterfucks I was amassing. CF number one was sitting beside me, so at least in that moment I didn't have to worry about him, but Sean and Peyta were completely different stories.

I couldn't shake the feeling that Sean was using me. It seemed subtle, and underlying, but there was something about his actions the other night that smacked of an agenda, and I was afraid that I was once again setting myself up for some kind of backstabbing. He was a little too interested in my knowledge of Cooper for my liking.

Am I becoming completely paranoid?

I sighed and tried to relax my shoulders as I pushed Sean out of my mind. CF number three unnerved me the most and I was determined to figure out a way to sort her situation out. I couldn't afford to lose anymore sleep.

“Is there a reason you're going ninety-seven miles per hour right now, Andretti?” Cooper asked, looking mildly concerned. He wasn't convinced I was a good driver and had expressed his concerns on numerous occasions with me while in the car.

“Sorry,” I said, lessening the pressure on the accelerator. “It's Peyta. She's got me a little stressed.”

His expression changed at the mere mention of her name. I could see the seriousness in his gaze from my periphery, and feel the tension in his body.

“What's wrong with P? Is she okay?” he asked, trying to mask his increasing anxiety.

“She's fine, at least I think she is. Maybe I'm just being overprotective, but I don't love the idea of this new guy she's seeing. He's too old for her. I question his motives,” I said, gripping the wheel tighter.

“How much older is he?”

“Four years,” I replied, not liking how it sounded out loud. “He's twenty-two.”

I heard a low rumbling come from the passenger seat, signaling that he shared my concerns.

“If he touches her, he dies,” Cooper said with an icy tone.

“I know, that's basically what I told her. She thinks I'm being crazy,” I said, trying to share Peyta's side. “Do you think it'll be better once we meet him? Maybe after all the shit we've been through, we're just a little quick to jump the gun?”

“I guess. I still don't like it though,” he said, losing some of the edge his previous response had held. “We need to meet him ASAP, then. I'll know what he wants.”

“Agreed. I think he should come to P's birthday party this weekend, but I have no idea how to invite him. I was trying to keep it a secret.”

“Tell her you're going to have a cake for her and see if she wants him to come over for some. You don't have to mention a party or anyone else being there,” he suggested.

“And you'll be there?” I asked him, hearing the strain in my voice. “I need you to be there.”

“Oh I'll be there,” he said, his razor sharp tone returning. “I hope for this kid's sake he's on the up and up.”

“Me too, Coop. Me too.”

My cell phone’s ringtone broke the tension in the car. Cooper fumbled through my bag to get it for me.

“Ruby Dee's phone, this is her personal assistant and man slave, Cooper. How can I help you?” he asked, looking all too pleased with himself.

“Give me that, you ass!” I yelled as I backhanded him in the chest.

“Hello? Hello? It's Ruby!” I said frantically into the phone, my face eighty shades of red. Cooper really knew how to embarrass a girl.

“Uh, yeah, Ruby? It's Matty. What was that all about?” he asked with a confused half-chuckle.

“Ugh, that's Cooper. You haven't had the pleasure. You probably don't want it,” I explained, shooting a look over at my entirely-too-amused companion. “What's up?”

“Oh. Okay,” he sputtered. “I just wanted you to know that there were some sketchy looking guys outside the entrance when one of the girls came up. Do you want me to meet you down there? How far away are you?”

“We're just rolling into town now. I should be there in about five.”

Our studio was downtown near the business district in an old brick warehouse that had been converted to commercial space. It wasn't a bad part of town, but it flirted with the edges; it certainly wasn’t the kind of place that a girl should hang out alone for too long unless she was looking for some kind of trouble to find her.

“I should be fine, Matty. Cooper can walk me in,” I said, more so to inform Cooper than Matty. “He can make himself useful for once.”

Cooper snorted at my last remark as his mood increasingly deteriorated.

“OK. I just wanted to make sure you were safe.”

I smiled at the phone. Matty was one of the last true gentlemen the world had.

“I'll see you in a minute. I need to get off of this phone before I get a ticket. Bye.”

“Bye, Ruby.”

I hung up and threw my phone at Cooper.

“What the hell was that?” I asked, referring to his “man slave” comment.

“I was bored,” he said plainly. “Who's the Boy Scout?”

“Matty is my dance partner, and he was concerned. He's not aware of my killer werewolf status.”

“Whatever. Are we there yet? I'm late to meet someone.”

“Is she getting paid by the hour? I'm sure you could just throw her a little extra for her trouble,” I said as I snickered at my own funny.

He said nothing. No witty comeback, no insults, no hostility. Nothing.

I pulled up a few buildings down from the studio and instantly saw what Matty was fussing over. A group of about six twenty-somethings were hanging out not far from the entrance, smoking and drinking out of paper bag covered bottles. They weren't street kids, or gang members, but they weren't exactly missionaries, either.

The block was devoid of any other people. I was anxious about walking alone, and after pissing Cooper off with my biting remark, I didn't think he was going to be too enthusiastic about chaperoning me. The old Cooper would have.

I retrieved my phone from Cooper's lap and dialed Matty's number.

“Ruby? Are you okay?” he asked, concern in his voice.

“Yeah, Matty, I'm fine, but I think I'll take you up on your offer after all.”

“I'll be right down.”

“OK, thanks,” I said as I hung up the phone.

“Am I completely useless to you these days?” Cooper asked, breaking his silence. “You may be a bitch sometimes, but I'm not going to throw you to the slaughter. Let's go. I'll hand deliver you to your Boy Scout.”

He didn't give me time to respond before he quickly jumped out of the passenger door. He waited impatiently for me on the sidewalk while I came around the front of the car, pressing the “lock” button on my key fob when I finally joined him. The beeping of the car got the attention of the guys down the street; all eyes were suddenly on us. I should have felt perfectly safe with Cooper, but my past drove my anxieties. I didn't like having men I didn't know around me, especially when they looked at me like prey.

Cooper started off ahead of me, looking back to see if I was planning on joining him, or if he was walking himself to the studio. I scrambled to catch up, unable to take my eyes off of the group we were approaching. He reached back and took my hand, giving it a small squeeze. He knew why I was apprehensive; he'd been a member of the pack that had sought to make me one of them through any means possible. I'd endured things that no person ever should and he knew about every detail, which is what drove him to risk his own life to save me, a person he didn't even know. It was the second glimpse I had that night of the Cooper I remembered.