The Fate of the Muse - By Derrolyn Anderson Page 0,40

her before I came along. I felt insecure, wondering if I was simply an interchangeable girl he was going through the motions with. He probably would have married her, if she hadn’t broken up with him. If I disappeared into the sea, he’d probably pick right back up where he left off with her.

The thought made me sick to my stomach, and I smothered my sobs in my pillow, overflowing with misery. It was as if all the anger I wouldn’t allow myself to feel was turned inward in the form of self-inflicted pain. I ached to forget everything, and for a minute I even jumped out of bed, wildly considering running out to the docks, plunging into the sea and trying to find Nerissa and Nixie.

Evie had told me that I could inspire great or terrible things, and now I finally, truly believed her. My anger had caused the Congressman’s car to plummet from a cliff– that much I knew. The pain, envy and rage I felt when I thought about Amber and Ethan was vastly more powerful, and therefore, far more dangerous.

I had to get a handle on myself, and find a way to cope with it before someone else ended up dead. I didn’t belong in Aptos; I should probably check myself into an Ashram somewhere until I could get control of my dangerous impulses. I needed to be in some remote place where the spiritual minded sat in contemplation, removed from society until they gained full command over their base animal instincts.

Or I could go into the ocean and forget everything.

I tossed and turned sleeplessly all night, alternately numb with confusion or burying my face in my pillow, overcome with sadness. Refusing to allow myself to feel the anger drained all the fight out of me, and I had turned tail and run away from Ethan once again. What was I thinking, leaving her alone with him? He was probably as good as hers. I finally sat up in bed, watching the sky outside my window brighten, illuminating another beautiful San Francisco morning.

It would probably be best for Ethan if I left, but I didn’t want to. I wanted to have it all, and it was exactly that sort of thinking that ended up in disaster for my mother. The look on Ethan’s face as I ran away haunted me. I never wanted to do anything to hurt him, but I couldn’t seem to stop myself.

I felt like I was morphing into some kind of freakish comic book character. As much as I wanted to suppress it, the effect I had on the people around me was undeniable. I had been born with superhuman powers I didn’t want, and now I had to learn how to rein them in before anyone else got hurt.

Tragically for me, it was my love for Ethan that was making me weak and irrational. It was ironic that something that had started out so sweetly was turning out to be my own personal Kryptonite. He made me feel more emotion than I’d ever known before, but it was precisely those feelings that were threatening to consume me, and hurt him.

And I had no idea what to do about it.

CHAPTER NINE

LEAVING

When the morning light finally made trying to sleep pointless, I got up and puttered around in the kitchen, glad to see that Cruz had stocked it with fresh coffee. I heard the distant roar of the shower and looked up to see Cruz stumble in, bleary eyed and bathrobed.

He saw me, and his eyes flew open, “What are you doing here?” he gasped.

“Good morning to you, too.” I said.

“It’s just… it’s just…” He sputtered, “I wasn’t expecting you until later this morning.”

“Shayla and I came up right after the rally. How late did you stay there?”

“Late,” he said, avoiding eye contact.

“Oh, uhm, well, Shayla and I decided to get an early start.” I felt guilty for not staying longer and helping out more. I must have been crying too hard to hear him get in, I thought, glad he hadn’t mentioned it.

“I gotta go get dressed,” he said, avoiding eye contact.

Just then Shayla walked in, stretching her arms over her head. She wore an oversized tee shirt, sweat socks and a brilliant smile, “Good morning!”

Cruz’s eyes flashed to mine desperately, and Shayla looked back and forth at the two of us, “Who’s that in the bathroom?” she asked.

“Excuse me–” Cruz said, rushing out.

I frowned and poured Shayla a cup of coffee,

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