Framed by Amber Lynn Natusch Page B

me,” I growled, with a voice far huskier than my own. Scarlet was peeking out to say hello. The expression on Sophie's face dropped instantly as sweat beaded on her upper lip.
    “Do what you can, Ruby,” she said, over-emphasizing my name. “You know Sean is willing to die for you. Are you willing to do the same for him?”
    Scarlet's growl became a snap as she lunged toward her. Sophie screamed and fell backwards until her body pressed tight against the glass of the entrance door.
    “I think you know exactly how much I'm willing to do for the ones I call my own,” Scarlet purred into Sophie's ear. “Remember?”
    She pulled back slightly to take in the expression on Sophie's face. Her fear stank up the room, and I was stifled by the pressure of the emotion. “Now run along, Sophie. Wouldn't want you playing with the big bad wolf when she's hungry.”
    Sophie bolted through the door so fast I thought her stilettos were sure to remain upright where she'd just been standing, like a fashion version of the tablecloth trick. Scarlet howled out a laugh at Sophie's retreat.
    Any helpful suggestions? Scaring the shit out of Sophie doesn't seem very helpful.
    “No, Ruby, it wasn't...but it sure was fun,” Scarlet grinned. “You should try it more often.”
    I'm trying to get out of trouble, not into it.
    “And that is why you miss out on so much of the thrill in life.”
    Are you done now?
    “ Quite.”
    With every calming breath I took, Scarlet blended back into her secondary role and I took over the helm. After a few minutes of standing and staring blankly at the display case along the far side of the store, I picked up my belongings and left. I very astutely remembered to lock the door behind me. All I wanted was to make it from the store to my apartment without being accosted or confronted by anyone who hadn't yet had their opportunity to do so that day.
    I dragged myself up the stairs to my house, obsessed with finding a way out of the predicament Sophie had presented me with. The humidity that hung in the air around me was oppressive and did nothing to help my intellectual capacity. I was too tired to shower, eat, or even brush my teeth, so I went directly to my room and flopped onto the bed after taking off as much clothing as I could and still be considered dressed. I let my mind wander aimlessly, hoping it would tire after a mental hike—and I prayed for no visions that night.
    I didn't need any icing on my drama cake.

9

    The heat was unbearable.
    After an unseasonably warm day, it seemed that the furnace in the apartment didn't get the memo about not needing to be on. I'd kicked the comforter off an hour earlier hoping that would help the sweating, but my pores continued to leak. The nearly full moon blasted through my curtains, making my sleeping conditions even more challenging. I tossed and turned before I finally gave up, facing the inevitable; I couldn't sleep.
    Giving up on my quest for a good night's rest, I made my way to the kitchen and dug a questionably old bottle of Riesling out of the fridge. I leaned a hip against the island and drank straight from the bottle, feeling no need for etiquette. Staring off into space, I drank until the weight in my hand started getting lighter. I had no idea how long I'd been standing there.
    The guest room door down the hall opened, followed by the closing of the bathroom door quickly thereafter. The light whoosh of water beating against the wall that separated the bathroom from the kitchen brought me out of my stupor. It was soothing background music as I continued my choreographed dance with the bottle—sip, stare, sip, stare.
    When I tipped the bottle back for one last swig, I lost my balance slightly while perched against the island. I lurched forward as the bottle crashed hard against the floor, shattering into pieces. I groaned in response.
    Reaching across the floor for the cabinet in front of me, I tried not to land in the pile of glass before me. After