The Fate of the Muse - By Derrolyn Anderson Page 0,39

I was going to kill someone. After my run-in with Peter, I knew I was capable of murder, and given the right set of circumstances, I didn’t even need to consciously wish for it to have someone end up dead.

My hands were shaking, and I was scared, more afraid than I’d ever been before. I was scared of what my anger might do to Ethan.

“Sure… Are you okay?” she asked. I looked over her shoulder. I was tempted to jump off the cliff into the sea.

“Yes,” I forced a smile, “I’m afraid I really need to get going a little early…”

She smiled and gave me a warm hug, “OK! I know you’ll have fun in Paris with Evie and Shayla… But we’re sure going to miss you!”

I felt even worse, for I’d already lied to her earlier, telling her that I was going to the city tonight, planning on being alone with Ethan at my studio.

“I’ll miss you too Aunt Abby, take care of yourself. And don’t work too hard... okay?”

“I’m fine. I’ve never been better,” she patted her belly reassuringly, smiling with glee as she looked around, “We really pulled it off! Your father would be so proud.”

I reminded her to look after the stray cat colony, and she assured me she wouldn’t forget them. Abby was an animal lover, and when I told her about the litter of kittens on the way, her heart melted, and she vowed to do something about their plight. Judging by what she’d accomplished today, I knew they were in good hands.

Pushing back all thoughts of Ethan and Amber, I returned to Shayla, “Do you want to leave early?” I asked desperately, “Go up to San Francisco tonight?”

“Totally!” Shayla cried enthusiastically, “I’m good to go!”

The crowds were starting to thin out as we hurried out to the busy parking lot. Long and Ethan were directing the exiting traffic, trying to keep things flowing smoothly.

Ethan saw us and trotted up, “Where are you going?” he asked, looking confused.

“To Paris!” Shayla exclaimed excitedly.

“Marina?” Ethan searched my face.

Long interrupted us, walking up to ask if I’d have a word with him in private. I was surprised, but any distraction was welcome at the moment. I agreed, stepping aside to hear what he had to say.

He cleared his throat, “I want to thank you for helping out my Grand-pop. I know… I mean, I never believed in all that old-school stuff… but I know, like, you can… do stuff… and I wanted to let you know that we’re all real glad, you know… that you did it.”

I sighed, “Abby did most of the planning… and you guys are doing all the work.”

I was surprised when he looked me squarely in the eyes, “Whatever,” he said, “Just… thanks, is all.”

We walked back to Ethan and Shayla waiting by the Rover.

Ethan looked upset, “What’s going on? I thought we had plans.”

“I have to go,” I said, afraid to meet his eyes.

“Why?” he raised his voice.

“I just do.”

“I thought we were going to stay together tonight…” he said, his voice lowered, pleading.

I looked at him and wanted to cry. Long and Shayla were standing right there, and I was not going to get into it in front of them. I fought to keep control of my emotions before someone got seriously hurt. Someone like him. I dug my fingernails into my hands, focusing on the sharp pain.

“I’ll call you later.” I turned to Shayla, “Let’s go now.” I tasted blood in my mouth and realized I was biting the inside of my cheek. We jumped in the Rover and sped off.

After a few minutes she tentatively asked, “Do you want to talk about it?”

“No,” was all I said.

I spent that night in San Francisco, lying in my childhood bed, sleepless, listening to the foghorns blow and turning everything over and over in my mind. I chickened out and shut off my phone, unable to even begin to think of what to say to Ethan. Every time I closed my eyes I saw Amber’s smug face. In one split second she ruined the night I’d planned. Even worse, she’d tainted the necklace that had meant so much to me; it was the thing led him to me when I was lost, and I hadn’t taken it off since the night he’d returned it to my neck.

Now it sat on my bedside table, mocking me every time I looked at it.

How stupid could I be? It wasn’t his fault that he’d loved