Casting Shadows

Chapter 9

Chapter 9 (Ruby's POV)

I peel my eyes open to see an empty half of the bed. When I sit up and look around the room, Gerard is nowhere in sight. I take a deep breath in relief, even though he could enter at any moment.

I do not get the privilege of supernatural senses, speed, or strength until I transform for the first time. I'm not even sure when the next full moon is, which I should probably find out soon.

The door swings open and I immediately pull the sheets up to cover my breasts. I don't want that bastard to see me naked again.

He walks in, wearing no shirt and dark gray sweatpants that hang on his hips in the most attractive way. I know now that any emotion I have, I cannot trust because he could be forcing me to feel that way.

Gerard is holding a tray of food in one hand, and my clothes in the other. He walks over to me and places the tray on the nightstand and my clothing beside me on the bed.

The silence is awkward, but nobody says anything to break it. He walks off and into the bathroom, leaving me to change and eat in solitude.

I roll out of the comfortable bed and dress myself into the now clean clothes that I was wearing yesterday, before my shower. They have a nice fragrance to them from the wash.

I sit up in the bed, leaning onto the backboard, with the tray of food on my lap. The pancakes and side of fruit look delicious, but I cannot trust that they are safe to eat. He could have poisoned or drugged them.

I look to the bathroom door and see that it is cracked open enough so that I can see him standing at the sink counter, popping another pill into his mouth. He swallows and runs his hands through his hair, looking at himself in the mirror.

From his expression, it doesn't look like he is admiring himself, but instead looking in disappointment. He leans forward, against the counter and sighs like he's feeling down. His hand reaches for the faucet and he turns it on, splashing some water onto his face.

He takes another moment and hangs his head, gripping the edge of the granite counter with his fingers so tightly, his knuckles turn white. He takes a towel and dries his face off, taking one last second to look at his reflection before opening the door all the way and exiting the bathroom.

He walks over to my side of the bed and sits down by my feet. Not once has he looked me in the eye. "I swear it's not poisoned," he says in a quiet tone, referring to the breakfast on my lap.

Cautiously, I take the fork in my hand and stab a blueberry with it. I bring it to my mouth and slowly chew, still skeptical of the safety of this food.

I jump when I feel his hand touch my own, gently holding it. As much as I want to pull away, I do not want to upset him again.

He looks me in the eye for the first time today and I can see a troubled look on his face. "I'm sorry," he says in a voice that actually sounds genuine.

I shake my head, not accepting his apology, and try to pull my hand away. Before I can get it very far, he grabs it again, this time more firmly.

"Listen to me," he says seriously. "I shouldn't have made you kill me. Forcing you to activate your werewolf curse wasn't right and I apologize."

I cannot bring myself to utter any words. All I can do is shake my head no, rejecting his attempt to make amends. I do my best to hold back my tears, but I accidentally let one escape and roll down my cheek.

He moves the tray back onto the nightstand and moves closer to me, wiping away the tears that are now flowing down my cheeks. He grabs a tissue from the nightstand and hands it to me.