The Fate of the Muse - By Derrolyn Anderson Page 0,75

my head eased, and I tried to smile reassuringly at them.

“Don’t worry,” I said, even though I knew they could feel the weight of my fear.

I had the long tow home to try and imagine exactly what it meant. I was being chased, but by who? Maybe it was just one of those dreams where you can’t get away and you can’t scream; at least nothing really bad happened to anyone in it. As hard as I tried, I couldn’t visualize who my pursuer was.

It was after dark when I got home, surprising Abby and Dutch. They looked cozy, snuggled up on the couch, watching television. I couldn’t help thinking that was exactly what Ethan and I should be doing.

Apparently Abby could read my mind. “Where’s Ethan?” she asked.

“He’s at home,” I said nonchalantly, waving a casual hello as I passed by them, “I was out surfing with friends.”

“Do you want something to eat?”

I kept moving, walking down the hall, “No thanks.” I closed the door behind me and collapsed on the bed, images of Nixie’s happy little face flashing before my eyes. I remembered her laughter as she slid down the wave on the front of my board, and I wondered what Evie would think about her unusual growth spurt. Right on cue, the phone in my purse rang. I did the time calculations– it was morning in Paris; Evie must have had gotten wind of my Hawaiian adventure.

“Marina, darling, are you alright? Tell me what happened.”

“I’m fine, it was no big deal, just a surfing accident.”

“I can only imagine… Shayla tells me that you singlehandedly pulled two grown men out of the ocean.”

I cringed, realizing that Shayla could never stand up to an interrogation by Evie.

“I just helped a little. Shayla was the one who performed CPR…”

Evie laughed, “To hear her tell it, she’s being forced to take the credit for something she didn’t do. The press is going wild over her– They can’t get over how modest she’s being. She’s absolutely the toast of the town!”

“That’s good,” I said, flopping my head back down on my pillow.

“No dear, she’s fine,” I heard Evie’s muffled voice, and the murmuring of another in return.

“Is Shayla there?” I asked, “Can I talk to her?”

“No, I’m breakfasting with my dear friend Olivia… You remember her from the meeting, right? She was so very disappointed not to have the opportunity to get to know you better.”

My hair stood on end, and I sat bolt upright, “Uh…Uh, Yeah… Well, I wanted to be there for Shayla.”

“I understand dear, we were just making plans for Olivia to come for a visit to San Francisco. She’ll stay with me, and that way she can meet Cruz as well. Won’t that be lovely?”

“Yeah… lovely,” I said, icy fear sitting in the pit of my stomach.

“Are you sure you’re alright?” she asked, concerned.

“Yes, absolutely. I have to be going. Enjoy the rest of your time in Paris.”

“Oh! Marina–”

“Yes?”

“They’re putting Shayla on the cover… That sports magazine thingy? She’s very excited about it.”

I hung up the phone and paced around my room, fatigue forgotten. I couldn’t shake the feeling that I was being pushed into a corner. It felt like a trap was closing in on me, and my skin was crawling with the sensation of being stalked. I thought about my new art studio sitting empty, and it felt like my only safe haven. Shayla and Megan were the only ones who even knew that I had rented it, and they were both out of town.

I turned off my phone and dressed, packing an overnight bag. I hurried out the front door, cheerfully telling Abby that I had plans, and not to bother waiting up for me. She nodded, and I was relieved when I saw her check herself, refraining from questioning me. As more and more time passed without incident, Abby was starting to let her guard down and keep from fretting over me so much. I think she realized I was chafing under her stewardship, and getting a little old for such babying. She’d have a real baby to fuss over pretty soon, I thought with relief.

She smiled up at me tiredly, her head on Dutch’s shoulder, “Have fun sweetie. Drive carefully.”

I turned into the dark, deserted alley, parking and nervously making my way up the stairs. I slipped in the door quietly, and looked around, relieved to find the place exactly as I had left it. I rummaged through the little refrigerator and sat