Haunted (5 page)

8

The whole thing was horribly anticlimactic – nothing happened. Then it slowly dawned on me that any time I'd Changed in the past was because I was under extreme emotional duress. That didn't really apply at that moment. I flopped down on the bed and instantly regretted it as pain shot through my broken ribs. Even that wasn't enough to draw her out of hiding, leaving me to try to figure out what plan B was going to be, because A wasn't working out quite as I'd imagined.

I heard the lock click in the apartment, and got up to see if Peyta had forgotten something. I was surprised when I saw Cooper walk in instead.

“Oh, so now you finally decide to come home,” I said, walking down the hallway towards him. “I've been trying to talk to you all week. You didn't answer any of my calls or my texts.”

“What do you want, Ruby? I'm busy, I don't have time for this,” he said, looking a little jumpy. Everything about him looked like he'd been wound up a little too tightly. He was edgy, twitchy, and his energy was completely frantic.

“Oh, you'll make time for this. It's about a small matter of you breaking my ribs and my need to be in top shape for my performance on Saturday. So far things aren't looking so great. Any suggestions?” I asked, planting my hands on my hips and using my body to block his way. He needed to know that I meant business.

“Take some Advil and put your big girl panties on, you'll be fine,” he spat as he stormed past me into his room, slamming the door.

Mother fuc…

I spun on my heels and followed him.

“Are you kidding me?” I yelled as I pounded on his door. Each movement jarred my ribs, causing me to wince from the pain. Luckily for me, the pain only fueled my growing rage. “You have a fucking meltdown and try to kill me, and I need to put my big girl panties on? I don't think so. Get out here. NOW!”

For once he obliged. He threw the door open and charged through it, backing me up into the wall of the hallway. It was exactly the impetus Scarlet needed. For a fraction of a second I was scared enough of what he was going to do to allow the switch. He looked at me murderously until he noticed that my eye color had turned blood red; it seemed to knock him down a peg or two.

“Scarlet, I don't have time for your shit, either,” he said, sounding far less convincing than he had just minutes before.

“Hmm, I see,” was all she said in her husky voice. I still hadn't gotten over how drastically different we sounded. It was a deeper, sexier, grittier version of me.

“I've got to meet somebody,” he said, looking a little too anxious to leave.

“So it would appear. Tell me something, Cooper,” she said, leaning in close to him. “How long have you had this monkey on your back?”

“What are you talking about?” he asked defensively.

“I can feel it. Don't play dumb with me, I might take offense. You don't want to offend me, now do you?” she asked calmly, cocking her head to the side gracefully. I was at a total loss as to what was going on and decided to sit back and hopefully catch up on the conversation.

“Listen, I don't know what you're picking up on, Scarlet, but it isn't me. Can I go now?” He looked directly at her, but the fire behind his eyes had been sufficiently smothered by her power. Scarlet had that kind of effect on people.

She let her head loll to the other side, analyzing him for a moment.

“I guess,” she replied, “but I'll get my answers, Cooper. One way or another I'll get them.”

He nearly ran out the door to escape her. She laughed as it slammed behind him and I was reminded of just how frightening she really was. She sauntered back into the bedroom and looked at the ring on the bed. She spoke aloud to me, which seemed odd since we shared the same mind, but she did seem to have quite a flair for the dramatic. I just went with it.

“So, Ruby, exactly what is it you need from me now?” she asked, sounding bored. “I don't see anyone I need to kill.”

It’s my back…I was hoping you could heal it for me. Can you do that?

“You brought me out to play for that? Menial tasks are beneath me, Ruby, but I suppose it won't serve either of us well to have you in total disrepair.”

She walked over to the mirror and stripped her shirt off, turning so she could see the jet black bruise on the right side of my lower back. It was in the kidney region and I was thankful that I wasn’t peeing blood after that blow. She started poking at the area as if testing its stability. She probed my lower ribs and I nearly passed out – funny how I could feel the pain and she appeared unfazed. She must have sensed my discomfort.

“Do you think they're broken?”

Yes. Maybe just the lower two or three on that side.

“Hmm. It'll take a little while to deal with this. Perhaps you should do a shot or two of vodka before we get started,” she suggested.

Why?

“Because it's not going to feel good, that's why. You have no idea how big a favor Sean did for you in Utah.”

What do you mean? What did he do?

“He put you in a coma, essentially. It somehow allowed me to do the healing while you still remained in control. It also allowed you to feel no pain. I would be extremely thankful for that if I were you,” she said gravely.

Don't you feel pain?

“Not one bit.” She smiled wickedly into the mirror in front of her.

Guess I drew the short straw yet again.

“Yes, you surely did, Ruby. Now I think I'll go drink some vodka for you,” she said, chuckling to herself. “It'll be a really long night without it.”

* * *

I continued to nurse vodka straight out of the bottle for about an hour or two after the ordeal was done. I wanted to forget about it as quickly as possible. Peyta was going to be home shortly and I was hoping to be passed out by then, literally. Sadly, there was no such good luck on that front. She came bouncing in shortly after ten, smiling from ear to ear.

“I'm no dating expert, but isn't it a bad sign when you come home early?” I asked, hiccuping in mid-sentence.

“Ha ha, Ruby. No, it's not a bad sign. He said he needed to get home. We had an awesome time, thank you very much.”

“Great, glad to hear it. What did you guys end up doing?” I asked, fishing for information.

“We caught the last viewing of an environmental documentary playing at the old cinema in town. We were the only ones in the theater, can you believe it?” she asked in total seriousness.

“Uh, yeah. I can totally believe it,” I answered, laughing out loud. “Did you pick him up? Where does this character live, exactly?”

“No. I met him in the theater. He said he'd be coming from work and would possibly be late, so I should just go in without him.”

“So he made you pay? Interesting.”

“Shut up! It was fun. I really like him,” she pleaded. I didn't have the heart to keep giving her crap about it, so I dropped it.

“What's his name?” I asked.

“Gregory. Greeeeeeegoryyyyyyyyy,” she sang as she skipped to the kitchen.

“Must've been one hell of a first date,” I mumbled to myself. “OK, I'm off to bed. I've had a rough day that I'd like to put past me now,” I said, heading towards my room. “Goodnight.”

9

By the time Saturday rolled around I was feeling no ill effects from the doorknob incident. I was even okay enough on Friday to go down to Boston for our final run through of the entire show. Matty was a basket case when I got there, going on and on about some lift that we needed to tweak because of a minor wrist sprain he'd gotten earlier in the week. We managed to put out that fire early in the night, and everything else went according to plan.

The next day I worked the morning shift at the shop, leaving by noon so I had time to pack everything up, eat, drive to the theater in Boston and get ready for curtain call at five p.m. I was hoping to get a chance to check in with Cooper before I left to see if he was still planning on coming. We'd been working on the show since he started going all weird, and I wasn't sure if his crazy ass still wanted to go. Peyta was having Gregory over to the house while I was gone. I wasn't totally settled on the idea since she'd just met the guy, but she assured me it would be fine and I gave in. Some parent I would make.

I double-checked with Peyta as I left that she understood the rules: he had to leave by midnight regardless of whether or not Cooper or I had made it home, bedrooms were completely off-limits, and if I found bodily fluids anywhere in the living room someone was going to die. I meant it, too. She reassured me that the terms were acceptable and would be followed to a tee. She threw in an extra “ewww” at the bodily fluids part; I felt much better after that.

I made my way upstairs to pack my makeup and wardrobe, and grab some food. If I'd been a planner I would have gotten most of that stuff collected and ready to go earlier in the week, but I wasn't, so I didn't. My makeup was strewn about the floor near my full-length mirror as it always was. For somebody who didn't wear a lot of makeup I had quite an impressive collection of it, always top shelf, too. I sorted through the MAC and Bobbi Brown compacts to find the shades suitable for stage makeup, which was really a euphemism for looking like a socially acceptable whore. I grabbed foundation, bronzer, cream blush and mascara, and added them to the bag. Once I managed to locate my black eyeliner and fake eyelashes, the makeup mission was completed.

Since the production was on the lower side of the budget spectrum, our “costumes” were really nothing more than coordinated practice gear. I was having trouble locating all the pieces I needed and was praying that I hadn't thrown any in the washer, as its contents were still sitting in it, sopping wet from the day before. I really couldn't afford to sit around for forty-five minutes waiting for them to dry, but alas, the fates were against me and that's exactly what I had to do. My brown boyshorts or “spankies” (as I called them), were looking at me from the bottom of the washer when I opened the door. My date with the dryer was sealed.

After collecting everything else necessary that was already dry, I threw my bag by the apartment door and went to the kitchen to wrangle up something to eat that would last for the next six to eight hours. Judging by the lack of contents in the fridge, it didn't look promising.

Why do I hate the grocery store so much?

I had enough to scrape together a grilled cheese sandwich and a can of tomato soup. After my first non-date with Sean, I'd kicked my veganism to the curb; it really allowed for culinary creativity in a pinch. I didn't know that two little innocent crab cakes could undo years of regimented eating. As I slurped my soup on the couch watching some ridiculous reality show, Cooper walked in.

I wonder which version I'll be getting today?

He looked like hell. The bags under his eyes were dark, his face sunken, complexion sallow. His hair was a mess, which was unheard of, and his clothing disheveled. He looked like he hadn't slept or showered since I saw him Thursday night and the longer I assessed him the more likely that was the case – he still had on the same clothes.

“What the hell happened to you, Coop? You look like shit.”

“Nice to see you, too, Ruby. Nice to see you, too,” he replied as he dragged himself towards the bathroom. When I heard the shower start up, I was grateful; he didn't smell very pleasant.

I got up to follow him because of my affection for poking bears with short sticks.

“Were you on a two-day bender of some sort, or did you find an especially friendly girl to spend some time with?” I asked with a condescending smile plastered to my face.

“I'm exhausted. Leave me alone,” he pleaded as he tried to close the door in my face. I shoved my foot in the way so he couldn't, and he didn't try to force it. I was becoming accustomed to moody, unpredictable and even violent Cooper, but depressed and sullen was new for me.

I followed him into the tiny bathroom. Part of me wanted to kick him while he was down to make up for the months of assholedom I'd endured, but the rest of me wanted to hug him and do what I could to help; good or bad, he was my friend. I didn't have a lot of those, so I couldn't afford to be frivolous with the ones I had.

“Cooper. Please let me in. I hate this, all of it. What it's doing to you, what it's doing to me, to us. Please,” I begged as I gently laid my hand on his naked back.

“I'm sorry, Ruby, but this is the way things have to be now.”

“But why?” I pressed. “What changed? I don't understand.”

He turned to face me, wearing the softest expression I'd seen from him in a long time.

“I love you, Ruby…that's why I can't let you understand,” he said as though that made any sense at all. “The less you know, the better.”

I'm going to regret this…

“Better for who, you or me?” I argued, trying not to sound as frustrated as I was. “After everything we've been through, you don't think you can trust me?”

“It's not that. You really can't understand, Rubes. I don't fully understand,” he explained weakly.

“Whatever, Coop. All I know is I'm wicked tired of being your multiple personality doormat. I never know who's going to walk through the door!”

“I know. I'm sorry,” he whispered. “I'm working on a solution for that.”

I wanted to continue letting my pent-up anger out, but he looked so dejected that I just couldn't. I let it be for the moment.