“Cruz, please… Let’s go get some coffee, okay? I need to talk with you in private.” I wanted to take him away from Abby, take him someplace safe where I could break the news to him. I suppose I was being cowardly, doing it in public, but I figured it was my best chance to get him to hear me out without storming off or getting too emotional. What I had to tell him was going to hurt, but he needed to know.
Cruz was confused, but he agreed to go with me, backing out of the driveway and taking us down the street to a nearby diner. We took a window seat and ordered coffee.
“OK,” Cruz said, “What’s going on? Why were you so rude to Brad?”
“His last name is Edwards, isn’t it?”
“Yeah, so?”
I grimaced, “I guess I just assumed it was Watson, like his aunt.”
“And?”
I looked at him solemnly, and in slow measured tones I told him, “Cruz, that house… Brad’s house… It was where I was held when I was kidnapped. His father was behind the whole thing.”
“WHAT?!” he blurted out, “You said it was some paranormal researcher dude!”
“I lied.”
“Marina,” his tone was condescending, “You must be confused. Brad’s father is a real estate developer. There’s no way a rich dude like that would get involved with kidnapping!”
I drew a slow, deep breath, not certain how much it would be safe for him to know. I wasn’t sure there was anything I could say that would make him believe me about Brad.
“It– it’s complicated.”
He leaned back in the booth, skeptical eyes narrowed. “Why then? Why would they want to kidnap you?”
I hesitated, “Because he wanted my help to catch Lorelei… and other mermaids.”
He scoffed at me, “What for? I mean, they’re already as rich as God, and I can’t see them breaking the law to make a few extra bucks off a side show!”
I paused, looking out the window to gather my thoughts. If I told him the truth about the muse powers, would he believe me? If he did believe me, I knew he would question his talent, his judgment… everything. It would send him into a tailspin of self-doubt. If he believed me about Brad’s duplicity, he’d question his own lovability.
I looked up at him with tears in my eyes.
His face softened, “Are you sure you’re not just mixed-up?”
“Cruz… You can ask Evie. She was there… She took me out of that house. Boris and Ethan were there too.”
“OK,” he said slowly, like he was talking to a child, “Let’s call Evie right now.”
“NO! We can’t! I mean, we have to wait until we can get her alone!”
“Why?”
“She’s in danger too.”
The look in his eyes shifted to one of complete disbelief, “Uh huh, right.”
I gathered my thoughts, trying to keep my voice steady, “Please listen to me! Her friend Olivia– the one she’s coming back from Paris with– is working with Brad’s father! She’s been in on the whole plot from the beginning!”
He rolled his eyes at me, and I realized that everything I said sounded preposterous, “Plot? Do you have any idea how ridiculous you sound? Now Evie’s friend is in on it too? Puh-leese! Do you really expect me to believe that?”
I dropped my head into my hands, not sure what to do. I’d never felt so alone in my life. “You have to believe me… Cruz… They made me help Barbara Watson get elected… Brad introduced us. He was the one who bought my paintings… I think he might be in on it…”
His face hardened, and he visibly recoiled at the suggestion, “What is wrong with you? Do you really think that everyone is out to get you?”
I bit my lip and looked out the window again. A man walking by looked in at that exact same instant, and when our eyes met I recognized him with a start. It was the man from the Louvre, the one who had followed me and Shayla around Paris.
I gasped, watching as the man looked away and rounded the corner. I jumped up with my heart pounding in my throat, “Cruz! They’re following me– we have to get out of here!”
Now he looked at me like I was completely out of my mind, “Marina, are you on drugs or something?”
I started pacing like an animal in a small cage, “They saw me! On the cameras in the garage! They know that I know… Oh God… Oh God…”
“Whoa, easy,” Cruz started to look scared, but he was scared of me, not for me.
I could feel the jaws of the trap closing, and I fought to beat back my panic. I wanted to run to Ethan, but I couldn’t. I steeled myself, trying to seem rational.
“I need you to take me to my car. RIGHT NOW.”
Cruz paid for the coffees at the cashier, watching me fearfully, like I was a ticking time bomb. My mind was racing, trying to figure out what to do next. When we got into the convertible and pulled onto the road a familiar looking black sedan with darkened windows materialized right behind us.
I looked in the side mirror, “Cruz, make sure this car doesn’t follow us to Abby’s…Okay?”
He nodded with exaggerated movements, clearly humoring me, as he started taking some random turns through the complex little neighborhood. We lost the car and turned onto the main road again.
“See?” he said.
We drove along in silence, turning onto Abby’s street.
“What the…” he adjusted his mirror, and my blood ran cold. He didn’t even need to tell me. I spun around, surprised to see the sedan right on our tail, not even trying to conceal the fact it was after us… after me.
“They’re coming to get me,” I said, my heart pounding with fear, “You have to get away from me.”
Now Cruz looked surprised, and then concerned, gunning the engine and taking several more rapid turns. This time the car stuck to us like glue.
“Fasten your seatbelt,” Cruz cried, “It’s going to be a bumpy ride!”
He passed Abby’s and took another series of sudden, screaming turns through our neighborhood, watching the rearview mirror in horror as the black sedan followed suit. We got out onto a main road with the car still right on our tail.
“Pull over!” I yelled, not wanting to see Cruz get into an accident. “And drop me off!”
The worst part about getting caught the last time was watching Lorelei go through the whole ordeal. I could never forgive myself if anything happened to Cruz.
“No way!” he yelled, gunning the engine as he turned onto the freeway on-ramp. We sped down the ramp into traffic, Evie’s convertible fishtailing as we screamed around the curve. Weaving in and out of cars like they were standing still, Cruz checked his mirror, finally taking the downtown exit and pulling over at a gas station, engine idling.
He turned to look at me with wide, shocked eyes, “Marina–”
The car suddenly appeared in front of us, screeching to a halt sideways, blocking us from the exit. The windows were tinted so dark I couldn’t see who was inside. Without a moment’s hesitation, Cruz threw the car into reverse and cranked the wheel hard, spinning out to face the repair shop’s open service bays.
He turned to me with a wild look in his eye, gunning the engine and driving into the repair shop. We flew out the open end on the other side, knocking over a rack of tools in the process, and screamed around the back, surprising some workers on a cigarette break. The little convertible finally slid off a curb onto the street, tires screaming in protest. We roared away again.
Now it was my turn to look at Cruz in astonishment, “Where did you learn to drive like that?”
He looked in the rear view and grimaced, and I knew the chase was still on. We sped down a side street, and I turned to see the sedan hot on our trail. I twisted around, and kneeling in my seat, grabbed for my surfboard and flipped it up over the back of the convertible into the path of the pursuing car. On impact with the street, the board shattered into several pieces, bouncing off the pavement and flying up into their windshield. Their car swerved, losing control for a split second before smashing into a
fire hydrant. The last thing I saw was a stream of water flying high into the sky, the black sedan hopelessly disabled on the sidewalk.
Cruz turned into an alley, and Evie’s car started making a horrible scraping sound. We limped along for a while, finally pulling over and getting out. Cruz checked the front end, while I looked up and down the street suspiciously.
“I’m afraid we shredded a tire,” he said, “We’re on foot from now on.”
I was still shaking from the whole ordeal, and I rushed over to embrace him, “Thank you.”
“Where do we go from here?” he asked.
We were just down the street from Bill’s coffeeshop, and I reached in the car to scoop up my bag, “I know a place.”
We hurried down the street, ducking into the alley behind the stores. Cruz followed along, unquestioning, until we reached the stairs leading to my studio.
“Where are we going?” his voice was higher than normal.
I clambered up the stairs, motioning for him to follow, letting us into the loft, closing the door and locking it behind us. “This is my art studio,” I explained, “Nobody knows about it but Ethan.”
“How long have you had it?” he asked, looking around inquisitively.
“Only a few weeks,” I said, going over to check out the window. “I’m renting it from Bill. It’s right over top of his place.”
Cruz walked over to stand by me, looking down at the street, “We should call Evie.”
I shook my head, “I was warned that her friend Olivia is working with Edwards… and she’s using her to watch me.” I met his eyes, “I could put Evie in real danger.”
“So call Boris then.”
I paused for a moment, and then smiled up at Cruz. I was surprised at how I’d overlooked the obvious. Boris knew all about the council; not only would he believe me, but he’d never do anything to hurt Evie. I grabbed my phone and called him.
Boris listened carefully as I explained my suspicions about Olivia to him. He made a little angry sound when I told him how Cruz’s boyfriend Brad was really a member of the Edwards family, and how we had just escaped a harrowing car chase through Santa Cruz.
“Tell him I’m sorry about the car,” whispered Cruz.
“Stay vere you are,” Boris told me, “I’m on ze vay.”
I hung up the phone, going limp with relief. The formidable Boris was coming to help, and I was confident that he’d know what to do.
I sighed, “Do you want a cup of tea?”
We sat down on the couch together, and the reality of the situation began to sink in. Now they were willing to grab me in broad daylight, and they didn’t seem to care if Cruz knew. I wondered what had changed, thinking that it could only be the fact that I had stumbled onto Barbara Watson’s family connections. But the election was a done deal; that bell couldn’t be un-rung, and no-one would ever believe me about the congressman’s death. I wondered why they would even consider me a threat.
“Marina, why didn’t you ever call the police?”
“There was no proof, and they threatened–” I stopped myself.
Cruz looked confused, “That car… You think that was Brad’s dad?”
“I’m sure it was someone that works for him… or for his aunt.”
“Why would his aunt have anything to do with this? I thought she was an environmentalist!”
I just looked at him sadly, hating every second of the conversation, wishing I could avoid causing him any pain. I wanted to be with Ethan so badly it hurt.
He studied my face gravely, no doubt remembering how traumatized I’d been when I returned from my last stay at the Edwards mansion, “Marina… What did they do to you?”
I paused for a moment, and started talking, “It was these two big thugs that worked for Edwards– they caught me when I went looking for Lorelei. I thought she was in trouble–”
“I remember,” Cruz whispered.
I went on, “They took me to the Edwards house, down that hall from the garage. There were two locked rooms on either side… windowless… with no way out… like jail cells.”
Or torture chambers, I thought, remembering my first shocking glimpse of Nerissa.
He shook his head, running his fingers through his hair, “I still can’t believe it.”
“There’s an elevator at the end of the hall,” I continued on, “It goes up three floors, and opens into a wood paneled room. Then you go into a giant great room, like Evie’s, only bigger. There’s a library with thousands of books and two full suits of armor.”
Cruz’s head snapped towards mine, his eyes burning intensely. His already pale skin went a shade lighter.
“You go through the library into a trophy room, and the walls are covered with all kinds of weapons. There’s a huge stuffed Grizzly… a mantel with tusks…”
Cruz dropped his head, covering his face with his hands. I knew he believed me now, and I watched as his heart broke with the knowledge of Brad’s unbelievable betrayal. His shoulders started to heave and he turned away from me.
“I’m sorry,” I scooted next to him and put my arm around him, resting my cheek on his back. I could feel his suppressed sobs shaking his slim shoulders, and I would have done anything to take the hurt instead of him. I felt completely helpless, guilty and angry all at the same time.
“I should have known… I was so stupid…”
“No you weren’t! You had no way to know, nobody did.”
“Oh, I knew… I knew there was no way someone like that would, could… really want to be with me…” his voice was muffled.
“No… Cruz…” I felt terrible.
“I acted like such a fool,” his voice was anguished, and he rubbed his eyes hard with clenched fists.
“You did not! We had no way of knowing who he was.”
“I knew it was too good to be true,” he said bitterly.
We sat there quietly for a minute, and as I turned it over and over in my mind, it made no sense. Something just didn’t sit right.
“Why would Brad have brought me there… blown his cover… and then just let me go?” I thought about how wrong I’d been about Ethan, “What if… Cruz– it’s possible that he didn’t know …”
Cruz shook his head violently, “No, when I think about how he was so totally into me from the first moment we met… It had to be an act.”
“Cruz… it did sound like him and his dad weren’t real close…” I couldn’t believe I was defending Edward’s son. I sat back, pondering Brad’s possible motives. Things seemed more confusing than ever.
Cruz lifted his head, a hard glint forming in his bruised gaze, “I’m calling him out on it! I need to tell him I know!”
“Cruz… are you sure you should…”
He got up angrily and pulled out his phone. Of all people, I could understand how love made even the most rational person crazy, and I knew better than to try and talk Cruz out of it. He went to pace back and forth by the large bank of windows. I went over to the sink with our cups, leaving him to his confrontation.
“I know EVERYTHING!” he screamed into the phone, making me jump, “Don’t play dumb with me!”
I could only imagine what Brad was saying, but it was pretty clear that he was denying the whole thing. Cruz was screeching like a wounded animal; I’d never heard him sound so angry. “You expect me to believe that it wasn’t just one big set up? That you don’t know your dad has a jailhouse set up in his garage?”
Suddenly there was a loud thump that rattled the whole building, and I ran out into the room, looking at the door. Cruz’s eyes met mine, “It looks like your thugs are here for us,” he told Brad, his voice shaking, “How could you do this to me?”
I scanned around for a weapon, grabbing a lamp from a nearby table. There was another loud thump, and I could see the door’s lock start to tear from the frame. It was clear that it wasn’t going to hold. Cruz ran to my side, looking around for another way out, but I knew that I’d done it again. I’d brought Cruz here to th
e perfect trap, just like the cove that had ended up being Lorelei’s undoing.
The door flew open, and Cruz dropped his phone. “Cruz? Cruz!” I could hear Brad’s voice coming from it just as three men poured in, coming straight at us. Cruz tried to block me, and two of them grabbed him, pinning his arms behind his back and slipping a black hood over his head.
“Nooo!” I screamed, backing up, “Let him go! I’ll go with you if you leave him alone!”
I threw the lamp at the man advancing on me and he laughed as it bounced off him, crashed to the floor and shattered. My arm was grabbed, and the last thing I saw was Cruz being forced to his knees while his hands were being cuffed together behind his back.
When the hood covered my head everything went black.
CHAPTER TWENTYTHREE
CONSPIRACY
I struggled to breathe, and to beat back the panic. I was half dragged, half carried, down the stairs and thrown into the back seat of a car, forced to kneel with my head pushed down.
“Cruz! Cruz?” I screamed, with no response.
“Shut up,” a man’s menacing voice growled in my ear, “Or we’ll hurt the boy.”
Something in his tone made me believe him, and I went silent, swaying back and forth as the car sped away. I could feel every bump in the road through my knees on the floor, my mind racing as I tried to calm my ragged breath. I was going to need my wits about me this time. If Olivia was really behind this, she wouldn’t make the same mistakes that Peter had.
Why were they doing this? They had managed to trick me into doing something for them once. Olivia would know better than anyone that they couldn’t force me to use my muse powers again. Fool me once, shame on you, I thought; their tricks would never work on me a second time.
I should have thought to call Boris sooner, or stayed away from the studio. They must have been watching me for a while. And Cruz… poor Cruz! I had to find a way to make them let him go. If they wanted something from me I could at least negotiate for his freedom.
My hands were cuffed behind my back, and I felt for my ring, relieved to find that it was still on. It was a symbol of Ethan’s love; I twirled the stone around to cup it in my hand protectively. Thinking about him brought tears to my eyes, and I blinked them back with gritted teeth. This was no time for fear, sorrow or self-pity. Now was the time for cold blooded, clear headed thinking.
03 The Fate Of The Muse - Marina's Tales Page 24
