The Fate of the Muse - By Derrolyn Anderson Page 0,111

open. I was relieved to find my bag still lying there, untouched. I picked up the broken lamp, finding Cruz’s phone on the floor. I realized with a shudder that if he hadn’t have called Brad to confront him, he wouldn’t be alive. Ethan looked around, inspecting the broken lock.

“I knew this place was a bad idea, How did they find out about it?” he asked.

“They know about everyplace,” I said morosely. “You can’t blame this one.”

I wondered what Edwards would do next. Since he didn’t know about Yuri, he might think I had done it all singlehandedly… Maybe it would scare him enough to back off. He might leave me alone, but I doubted he’d forget about Nixie; I was sure that he’d never give up on her.

“Cmon,” Ethan said, ushering me out and forcing the door shut, “Let’s get out of here.”

I fell asleep in the truck, my head gently bouncing on his shoulder. When we pulled to a stop I sat up yawning, looking out at the harbor lights and up to Ethan’s apartment.

“What are we doing here?”

“Dad’s staying with Abby tonight,” said Ethan, “I want you here with me.”

I looked down at my dirty jeans and torn shirt, “Uhm, okay… But I don’t have any clothes to change into.”

He smiled, “I do.”

After I showered and changed I stumbled out to find Ethan sitting on the couch waiting for me with a mug of hot chocolate.

“How do I look?” I asked sardonically, thinking probably something like a drowned rat. I was swimming in his sweatpants and T-shirt with damp hair.

“Perfect.”

He opened his arms and I slipped into them. We snuggled together on the couch, and I was finally able to let my guard down, feeling completely safe. Ethan kissed my bruised wrist and insisted on putting some bandages on the spots where the skin was broken. His wrists carried handcuff marks too, telling the story of how hard he’d fought to try and get to me.

“We match,” I said, smiling feebly.

“We’re a good match,” he replied, “Now what do you want to eat?”

I slumped back on the couch, exhausted, “I don’t know.” I drained my mug and was warmed through, having a hard time keeping my eyes open. I laid my head down on his chest with a satisfied sigh, at long last back home.

The last thing I remembered before drifting off to sleep was the sound of Ethan’s strong and steady heartbeat, booming like the crashing of distant waves on a familiar beach.

CHAPTER TWENTYSIX

DOUBT

I came awake slowly, eyes darting around in confusion until I realized where I was. I was alone, wrapped in blankets, with bright daylight streaming through the slats of the window blinds. I checked the alarm-clock on Ethan’s bedside table, surprised to see it was well past noon. Was he already at the farmer’s market? I bolted upright, and was immediately knocked back down by a powerful wave of dizziness. I could hear someone moving around in the kitchen, and smelled coffee brewing and food cooking. My stomach screamed that it was empty.

I stretched my sore arms above my head, and the sight of my bandaged wrist sent flashbacks of the whole terrible experience ricocheting around in my mind. Barbara, her guards and even poor Yuri had all died yesterday because of me, and yet I was still standing. It had to mean something… I had to be alive for a reason.

I thought about my words to Barbara… “I’ll kill you” I’d said, and I had definitely meant it. I’d threatened to kill Peter as well, and somehow it ended up being his fate. At least the congressman wasn’t dead because I was angry with him, and that was some small comfort. I suppose that meant that nothing terrible would happen to Amber simply because I disliked her.

I rolled to my side, and when I stirred, the blankets smelled like Ethan, soothing me a little. I sat up slowly, hugging his pillow to my body. I drew a few deep breaths and waited for the dizziness to pass, taking a good look around. I’d peeked in his room before, but I’d never really spent any time in it.

The walls were white, and mostly bare, with the exception of one of my wave paintings and a couple of surfing posters tacked up across from the window. I dropped my chin to the pillow, too weak to even be tempted by them. A pair of surfboards leaned against the far wall, and a bookcase crammed