16Physically Impossible

His face becomes closed off.

"Let's go!" I snap, spotting his car and marching towards it like a well-trained solider with a suicidal mandate.

Ruspin moves to block me from entering, then the cops show and he practically stuffs me inside.

We head into a dense housing scheme and I glance at him, "Is your helicopter this way?" I demand.

His mouth rarefies into a plateau like formation and he reverts his attention to driving.

We eventually reach a flat house near the outskirts of the housing scheme. Ruspin exits with me trailing behind him. The interior is filled with couches, a TV and lots of toys... did we break into a day-care? Only Ruspin would dare.

"Whose house is this?"

"Sit." He gestures to the couch in a choppy motion, his face afire with indignation.

I open my mouth to protest when his voice raises to a bellow. "Shut up and sit!" He's never shouted before so I cautiously make my way over and sit, receiving a nod from Ruspin.

Opting for a calmer tone this time he says, "Just sit and quiet your mind."

Quiet my mind. My mind is a like a pot pie of unwanted thoughts, guilt and self abhorrence. I would like nothing more than to quiet it, but that seems problematic. Seeing as how I'm solely responsible for the death of Paige.

"She's dead." My stomach turns as it starts to become real, "I killed her."

Ruspin stiffens. "Who?"

"Paige, my friend, she was killed."

"By?"

"The man my parents wish was my fiancé." Too ashamed to look at him, I cover my face with my hands. "He told me it was an early wedding present."

Rupsin peers over to me, "I didn't see- hear that."

"He told me that it was an early wedding present." I drone, "It's best if I return to England."

"He kills his brides systemically."

"My parents got it into their head that I would kill him instead and use his money to bring us out of debt."

For a moment after that sentence, the whole world is in suspended animation... up until Ruspin slowly takes my hand and says lowly, "And that's why you want to go back."

"Yes. When do we leave?"

Ignoring me, he stands and walks away. Under normal circumstances I would pester him, but I'm too shattered to bother.

A few seconds late , two six packs are slammed onto the table. He screws the cork off one and flings it away before thrusting it at me. When he realises that I'm not going to relieve him of it any time in the near future he pushes it to my lips, effectively forcing me to drink.

"Better?" purrs his soft smooth drawl.

The alcohol, per usual, slackens me. Whereas I was a throbbing type of numb, now I'm a floaty carefree mess.

I wheeze out a yes as he lounges next to me with his own bottle.

"You're never returning."

"I know." I say, "Once you dump me on them, I won't come back."

"You're never returning to your parents." He clarifies.

My beer almost spews from my mouth then and there from his plot twisting declaration. I jump from my chair, already feeling the effects of the drink, "You will take me back. Felix, my fiancé will gladly pay for me. No bother about my parents bankruptcy, you'll have the money."

And suddenly, there isn't any difference between him and the couch and the floor.



"Explain to me, why my sister is on your lap." Says the conversant voice of Cage.

"Why was mine at your house?" is Ruspin's smooth reply.

I hear Cage huff, "Is this about pay back?"

No reply.

"Angelica, I know you're awake." He says to me instead.

Groggily, I push myself up and ignoring Cage, I glance at Ruspin accusingly. He drugged me. I was hardly the vision of a sane person but neither was he if he decided to drug me! Although, I can see things through a new perspective. I realize how stupid it would have been to go back... it would've assuaged my guilt temporarily, and then I would have regretted it.

"Thanks Ruspin."

He nods.

My eyes flick to Cage, "I haven't seen you in days." He snaps.

"I was working." I mutter, still woozy.

"Over working." Mutters Cage.

"Michelangelo was helping me."

"What I'm saying is, I'm worried." He says, "This isn't healthy."

"I know, I just needed... something."

"I hope you've got it." he says snippily.

I glance from him to Celeste who holds a sleeping baby, "I think you're secretly glad I wasn't there."

Ruspin groans.

"By the way, your birthday presents are back at the hotel." Chimes Celeste.

My mouth tumbles open. "My birthday?" I demand, "When was it?"

"Yesterday." Says Cage, with a frown, "You must have forgotten the date."

Ruspin stands and drifts away, "Yeah, I'm just gonna follow him." I comment, backing away slowly.

I tail him till we're out on the porch. Ruspin sits on the recliner while I perch on the handle.

Wordlessly, he hands me an envelope.

Inside is a brochure for an eye care centre. Three hundred off the lenses and a free eye test.

Glancing at Ruspin, I wonder if he accidentally interchanged my envelope and this one.

« Bon anniversaire. » He murmurs unobtrusively and I know enough French to get the meaning. Then by way of explanation he inserts, "You squint a lot."

"Do I?"

He nods.

I try to picture myself with glasses. Preferably a nice big frame so I can pull the geeky look. Grinning I glance at Ruspin, "Thanks. I'm buying a nerdies frame."

Cue sidelong glance at me, "Of course you are." After a millisecond of silence he adds, "I bought you some shoes as well."

"Did you." I'm almost over the moon with the flabbergasting feeling... of him spending money. I remember Paige and how she loved dressing with flare and how she'll never get to do that again.

"You didn't answer my call." I snap at Ruspin, shoving my hay-wire emotions into a closet and locking the door.

He doesn't respond.

"Why?" I demand, "You told me to call you and you refused to answer. What if I just wanted to talk, what if I didn't want to see you?"

"I wouldn't have been able to talk to you."

"Next time, answer, will you?" I plead, not even sure why I'm trying to antagonise him. Maybe I craved his familiarity and constancy. Maybe I find it disconcerting that he didn't rely on his usual mannerisms when I called. Maybe he's confused me even more.

"You're going to that ball with Michelangelo?"

I nod, wondering where he's going.

"He knows about you. Be vigilant." He says, sombrely.

Well, I had suspected that he knew, but oh well just one more person to add to the ever mounting list.

"I'll be vigilant if you can answer my call next time."

Ice. That's the only comparison I can make towards him at this moment. He's as stiff as an ice block, glares at me icily, seems to turn blue. "I can't."

"Why not? You answer everyone else." I gripe.

Shifting to look at me directly he hisses, "I physically can't."

Donning my confused expression I gaze at him.

Sneering at me he says in an undertone, "I don't tell people this because it can be considered a flaw. It prompts pity, which is wasted on me; they begin to see me as human. All I need anyone to ever see me as is king. I've no desire for emotion. Or friends or faked compassion."

"Just tell me." I snap, "I'm not about to die from shock, not that you care."

"I care. I'm..." he pauses.

"Don't tell me then if you don't want my pity or faked compassion!"

"I won't." he says and stalks off.

Fine, I'll just do myself a favour and not give that 'I care' statement any face value... especially because it came from a man.