Symphony (Finding Their Muse Book 4)

by Bea Paige

  It’s complicated, that much I do know.

  “Fix me, Doc,” I say, meeting his gaze with a wobbly smile.

  If I’m completely honest with myself, I’m not in the least bit ready to face the next eight to twelve weeks of recovery. Knowing I’m going to have to rely on Ivan, Anton and Erik to care for me has plagued my thoughts and fuelled my insecurities. Feeling weak and vulnerable isn’t an easy pill for me to swallow. I’ve looked after myself, protected my heart for so long that feeling beholden to others is difficult, to say the least. Even now, even after everything that happened in that glass cage with Erik, I still struggle. But this time, I’m not running. This time, I intend to see this through. Whatever we are together, I want to explore it.

  Yet, despite everything that’s happened, I still worry that once we get back to Cornwall and the harsh reality of day to day life, their promises to look after me will be replaced with annoyance and disappointment. I should have more faith in them, in us and our budding relationship, but Ms Hadley’s attempt at taking my life has shocked us all to the core and rocked the foundations of our relationship. The bullet might have ripped through skin and muscle almost destroying my ability to lift my arm ever again, but it has done something far worse than just injuring me, it’s somehow managed to upset the delicate equilibrium between us all. I sense it.

  Ivan is preoccupied with thoughts that he’s unable or unwilling to share right now. Erik is reeling from the betrayal and Anton hasn’t picked up his sketch pad and pencil in days.

  It’s no surprise then that I whilst I’m fucking terrified, I want to get this over and done with. I want to get fixed and I want to heal, because they need me, and I need them. It’s as simple as that.

  “Just doing some last minute checks. Okay, Rose?” Dr Smithton says.

  “Sure,” I mumble distractedly, my thoughts returning to Erik and that damn prison.

  When I’d walked out of that glass cage with Erik and those new scary emotions that I hadn’t felt for a very, very long time, I’d been filled with hope for a future with these men. I’d believed that perhaps, finally, I could heal. I could live the life I’ve always wanted but had never thought I’d deserved. Then Ms Hadley had fired the gun…

  Pressing my fingers against my eyelids, I try and regain control of my fear.

  The sound of the gunshot still haunts me now. I can hear it in every door that slams shut, in the crash of a dropped tray, the sound of a car backfiring far below on the street, any loud noise really. I’m living with the constant reminder of that split second decision, and what could’ve happened if her aim had been any better. I’m pretty sure it’s the same for my men… my men.

  Yes, they are. They’re mine, and I am theirs. A flood of warmth fills my chest, surprising me in the moment.

  “Rose, are you okay?” the anaesthetist asks me.

  “I will be soon,” I answer, opening my eyes and drawing in a deep shuddering breath. I remind myself of what I’m made of as I push away all thoughts of Ms Hadley. Her time will come, but not now.

  “You can do this,” she reassures me.

  “I can.”

  I always knew I was strong, but until those few days in that glass cage with Erik, I hadn’t known quite how much. He’d pulled me apart, then put me back together again all whilst Ivan and Anton had watched, supporting us both as we unravelled. I’m still raw, still reeling. But I’m not destroyed by the experience. In fact, I’m so much stronger for it.

  I’m Ivan’s Domina.

  I’m Anton’s muse.

  I’m Erik’s saviour.

  I’m the one.

  And I won’t let that bitch destroy the healing that’s started to take place for all of us.

  “You ready?” Dr Smithton asks me.

  “I’m ready,” I respond, drawing on the strength I need to get through this operation and the unwritten future on the other side of the darkness. It’s murky, unclear, but there are shards of light penetrating the inky blackness. I concentrate on the possibilities of a happier future and nothing else, as Dr Smithton motions for the anaesthetist to start.

  “Like before, you’ll get a warm feeling in the back of your throat. Count back from ten for me, Rose,” the anaesthetist says, her fingers running gently over the skin on my hand.

  I nod, ignoring the scratch of the needle and the almost immediate sensation of warmth in the back of my throat.

  “Ten… nine… eight… sev…” my voice trails off as darkness swallows me for the second time in a few short weeks.

  Chapter 2

  Rose – two weeks later

  It’s been almost a month since Ms Hadley shot me. For three weeks I was confined to a room in a small private hospital in Edinburgh, mainland Scotland. Now, back at Browlace, I look out of the window of y newly appointed bedroom and watch as Ivan greets my knee surgeon, Dr Smithton. He’s here to give me one last once-over before he returns home to his family in London.

  Despite lots of rest and physio, I’m still crippled by my injury. If Ms Hadley’s aim had been any better, I would most definitely be six feet under. That coupled with the fact that I’m slowly recovering from knee replacement surgery, has made healing a long and drawn out process. On a more positive note, I’ve found out that there’s nothing quite like a near death experience to put everything into perspective. Life is too damn short to do anything other than live. Erik has showed me that, and I’m going to start properly living just as soon as I’m fully healed from my injuries and out of this damn wheelchair.

  Today, hopefully, is the beginning of a new start for us all.

  Dr Smithton gives Ivan, and now Anton- who has joined them both- his signature warm smile before following them inside. I’m not surprised he’s so happy given the amount of money Ivan must have paid him to take care of me. I dread to think how much in total he spent getting me fixed up and back to Browlace. As soon as I’d been given the go ahead to fly, Ivan had chartered a private flight back from Edinburgh to Newquay Airport, complete with two nurses and Dr Smithton as company. The nurses left yesterday, and Dr Smithton will get to return home to his family this afternoon, several hundred thousand pounds better off no doubt.

  A light knock at the door draws my attention back inside the room. My pulse suddenly thumps in my neck at the thought that it might be Erik, but instead Fran enters holding a tray with a steaming mug of Earl Gray and a plate filled with toast and scrambled egg. I quickly hide my disappointment with a smile. It’s not her fault she isn’t the person I want to see. It’s been almost three days since Erik and I have talked and even then, it was brief, our conversation stifled. He’s hurting and being here confined to this damn wheelchair and this room is preventing me from helping him heal. Ivan and Anton have been a little absent too, only staying for a few minutes at a time causing my insecurities to sky rocket.

  This new me, the one who allows herself to feel is refreshing on the one hand, but a nightmare on the other. I’m not used to juggling all these damn emotions.

  I grit my teeth in frustration. The second Dr Smithton leaves I’m calling a meeting. I need to know what’s going on in Erik’s head, in all their heads, because I’m more than certain this withdrawal has everything to do with Ms Hadley’s court hearing.

  “Morning, Rose. How are you feeling today?” she asks me, a kind smile lifting her lips and showing off a dazzling set of white teeth. I’m pretty sure they’re false, given the occasional movement when she talks.

  I turn the wheelchair so that I don’t have to twist my head awkwardly. It still hurts to use my arm, but every day I feel the strength returning, that in itself should give me something to smile about this morning. Not to mention the fact that Dr Smithton will hopefully sign me over to the team of physios and the local consultant from today onwards, but more importantly that I might be able to get my life back just a little.

  “Better, actually. The swelling on my knee is finally beginning to subside, and I’m not so stiff today, thank God. Although the brui
sing is pretty horrific. Still, hopefully soon I’ll be able to put more weight on this leg for longer periods.”

  “Well that is good news, Rose. I’m pleased, and I know the boys will be happy to hear the same,” she responds, placing the tray on the foldaway table before bringing both over and placing them within reach. It’s sweet that she calls them boys, because they are so very far from being boys. They’re men; complicated, troubled, deep, and very much mine. At least I hope so.

  “I feel like a burden,” I mutter, not meaning to say that out loud. It isn’t like me to show vulnerability, but ever since my time in Erik’s glass cage, that vulnerability is just below the surface. One slight scratch and it bleeds through the cracks for everyone to see.

  Fran rests a hand on my arm. “You are no more a burden than I am, Rose. Those boys think the world of you. We all do. Concentrate on getting better, everything else can wait,” she says knowingly.

  I give her a half-hearted smile. “Then why are they avoiding me? I’ve been back almost a week and I’ve barely seen them bar a few minutes here and there between the nurses, Dr Smithton and the physio’s visits. If they wanted to spend time with me, they would’ve made it happen.”

  An ugly feeling of self-doubt creeps into my head at the thought that, just like my mother, they don’t want me. The sensible part of me knows that isn’t true. We’ve been through too much together for them to abandon me now but when Erik carved open my heart and drew out all the emotion I’d kept locked away, it unleashed all my insecurities too. I’m still trying to manage them now. When you begin to care for people, there’s so much more to lose when they turn their back on you. I know that from experience, and I’m hoping that Ivan, Anton and Erik understand that too, because their absence hurts.

  She sighs, perching her bottom on the window ledge, worry creasing her eyes. “You know as much as I do, that not one of those boys wishes for you to feel this way. Seeing you like this, believing that somehow, they’re responsible. It’s hard on them, Rose.”

  “But they aren’t responsible, Fran. She aimed the gun. She pulled the trigger. She tried to kill me. None of this is their fault.”

  I can’t even bring myself to say her name out loud. It’s as though, that just by uttering it I will somehow conjure her up like some wicked witch in a fairy tale. She’s the old hag with the poisoned apple, and we’ve all taken a bite. I know why she wanted me dead. She hates me, that much is abundantly clear. I’ve spent hours mulling over what happened, trying to figure out why she would choose to hurt her son that way. Why she would try to take away Erik’s chance at happiness… that is what I can’t, won’t ever, understand.

  “No, you’re right, it isn’t their fault. But that doesn’t stop them from feeling guilty, feeling responsible for her actions. That woman,” she spits, as angry as I am in the moment, “was their mother figure. Ivan brought her into his home because he trusted her. Erik loved her like only a son would, and Anton, though the wariest, still cared for her. She’s been in their lives for a very long time. It’s hard to know that you’ve been betrayed by someone you’ve put your trust in. I should know, I feel the same way.”

  “And yet, here you are telling me this instead of them. I thought they trusted me enough to tell me how they feel. I might be physically weakened, Fran, but I’m not weak. I can take it.”

  “They’re just protecting you. I don’t pretend to understand what this relationship is between you all, but I do know one thing; those boys would rather die than see you hurt again.”

  “Protecting me from what?”

  “It isn’t my place to say, Rose. Ms Hadley…” her voice trails off as she chews on her bottom lip.

  My back goes ramrod straight, and my fingers tighten over the armrests. “Ms Hadley, what?” I snap. She flinches, and I feel guilty. She’s been nothing but kind to me.

  “I’m so sorry, Rose, for what she did to you, but…”

  “But what, Fran? Please, I need to know. I have to know what’s going on. I can’t help them if I don’t.”

  “What she did to Erik, it’s beyond cruel…”

  She stutters, unable to bring herself to say it.

  I grab her hand pulling it into my lap, squeezing tightly. “Fran, please… I’m not beyond begging. I’d walk through fire to help save these men.” That truth spurs me on, filling me with determination. I will not let Ms Hadley destroy us. I refuse. “I need to know,” I insist.

  Silence spreads out between us whilst Fran decides whether she should open up or keep quiet.

  “Please,” I beg.

  “They think she killed his mother,” she says in one long, stuttering breath.

  What?!

  For a fraction of a second all I hear is a weird kind of whirring in my ears as Fran’s revelation carves a deep gash in my heart, ripping the tender organ open. My fingers uncurl from her hand and I cover my mouth.

  “No…” I manage to utter, looking at Fran with wide eyes.

  She speaks rapidly now, but I don’t hear any of it… I can’t hear a damn thing but the terrible sound of my own rage beating inside my skull in time with my bleeding heart.

  She killed his mother...?

  Fran stands suddenly, that action forcing me back to the present. Her hand lifts to her chest as her gaze rises to a point behind me. I shift in my seat, ignoring the pain in my knee and shoulder to see what’s surprised her. Standing in the open doorway is Erik, his face as white as Fran’s is now.

  “Please leave, Fran,” he whispers, a quiet kind of pain filtering into his words.

  “I’m sorry, Erik,” she mutters, resting her hand on my shoulder and squeezing gently. “Rose has a right to know what’s happening. She cares about you.”

  “I know,” he mutters, clenching his jaw. He flicks his gaze at Fran as sadness leaks into his amber orbs, before returning his gaze to me. “Please, could you give us a moment?” he says to her.

  “Of course.”

  He sidesteps out of the way as she passes him, not for one second taking his eyes off me. The moment she’s out of the door, he closes it, the tenseness in his shoulders evaporating even though he still holds it in the tightness of his jaw.

  “Erik…” my words fail me in the moment as the realisation of Ms Hadley’s evil spreads between us. Even when she’s not here, she still has the power to hurt us.

  “Rose…” he responds, my name a broken note on his lips.

  I hold out my arms, wanting nothing more than to feel him within them. In ten strides he’s on his knees before me, his arms circling my waist, his head pressed against my lap. In the moment, there’s nothing I can say to make him feel better. All I can do is hold him and hope it's enough.

  Chapter 3

  Erik

  Rose’s fingers slide through my hair as I press my cheek against her thigh. There are so many things I need to tell her, need to say, but the words are caught in my throat. It’s all I can do to breathe, let alone voice them. But like always, Rose just waits for me to gather myself. She gives me the time to reel my thoughts into something coherent, and school my anxiety into something more manageable.

  I’ve begun to rely on her, a lot. That both comforts and scares the shit out of me, because caring for someone this much comes with huge responsibilities.

  “Fuck,” I murmur, angry at myself for not being there for Rose when she’s the one who’s needed me. “I wanted to come back sooner…”

  “Shh, it’s okay,” she soothes.

  “No, it really isn’t.”

  For the past three days I’ve been oscillating between blind fury and suffocating sadness. Too many emotions for my already rattled brain to deal with. The flashbacks have returned and with it my need to return to the glass cage in my room. It’s taken everything I have not to walk into it and lock the door. The sooner I get that damn thing removed the better, because I refuse to return to that prison when the one person who holds the key to our healing is sitting in a wheelchair needing my support, my care, my
attention.

  “I missed you. I’ve missed all of you,” she murmurs, and I flinch at the undeniable anguish I hear in her voice.

  Pulling back, I squat on my haunches and drink in her face. Even like this, confined to a wheelchair, she exudes strength despite the vulnerability she’s now able to express. My fingers curl into her thigh as I hold onto her, anchoring myself in the moment.

  “Ivan, Anton?”

  She heaves out a sigh. “They’ve visited a handful of times, but they’ve both been distracted…”

  Fuck.

  “I’m sorry, Rose. We’ve been arseholes. None of us really know what the fuck to do with ourselves… We’re just trying to process.”

  “I’m here. I can help.”

  “We know…”

  “Do you, really?”

  I shake my head, trying to find the words to explain. Guilt lacerates my chest, breaking me apart. I feel guilty about what Ms Hadley did, guilty that I didn’t see it coming, guilty that I’ve left Rose to her own thoughts after everything she’s done for me, for us. Breathing slowly out through my mouth, I slide my hands up Rose’s thighs and grasp her hips, holding on for dear life.

  “We’re all trying to figure out what went wrong. We’re grown men, smart men, and yet none of us saw this coming. Trust isn’t given lightly by any of us, but we trusted her.

  Ivan and Anton both watched over her when we were together, and whilst they felt her anger, neither suspected she’d go so far. That’s fucking hard to let go. They feel culpable and I feel responsible.”

  “It wasn’t their fault. But barely saying more than a few words to me over the past few days, that is.”

  “I’m so sorry, Rose. I couldn’t come, not when I was so…”

  “What, Erik?” she questions me, her fingers gliding over my shoulders, easing out the tension. Her need to touch me, to make a connection despite her frustration, sends a spike of happiness to my heart. This woman… Only this woman can touch me like this and not draw out the violence that still lurks within me. It might have lessened, but it’s still there. The monster within only ever a moment of madness away.