Page 64 of If You Give an Artist a Killer Muse

I give her his mask, step to the side, and sweep my arm, “Fox man asked to speak to you.”

Nat gasps, her face brightening with glee, an evil glint shining in her eyes as she shoots me a glance. “To me? Oh, wow, I feel so special!”

“You should feel special, bestie,” I smirk. “Charlie said he would help your dad by telling us everything we need to know.”

Nat turns to Charlie, who is standing up again with his back against a computer desk. “Is that so? When?”

“Now.”

“As soon as I can.”

Charlie and I speak at the same time. I whirl around and frown at him, “Wait, I thought you said you’d tell her everything now?”

Charlie furiously shakes his head, sweat beads forming across his forehead. “No, no, I said I need time! But I was hoping we could talk about when?”

Nat dramatically rolls her eyes and sighs, placing a hand on her hip. “Man, do you seriously think you’re in the position to be pulling this shit?”

He gulps, “I expect that the people I borrowed fr—”

“Stole.” She chirps. “You didn’t borrow, you stole.”

“R-right. I-I’m sorry. I stole. But I promise to tell you everything.”

“That’s great! Today. Now, preferably.”

“I can’t do that.”

Nat huffs. “Damn, that sucks, Charlie.”

Charlie looks between me and Nat, “So, can we talk about this? Maybe we can come into some kind of arrangement?”

“Absolutely, Charlie,” I chime in brightly.

I quickly glance at Nat, who just shrugs. I bend slightly and lift my dress up to my knees, not missing the confusion and…

What the fuck? Are you fucking kidding me? Lust? Is he seriously horny now? Now?

“If you think my body is part of the arrangement, you’re mistaken.” I can’t help but spit.

Charlie blinks, at least having the grace to look ashamed.

“Sorry, I meant no disrespect,” he mutters before clearing his throat. He turns to Nat, who is wearing a shit-eating grin the whole time. “Let’s talk about this arrangement?”

I lift my dress until I finger the dagger strap to my thigh. “Your face or your stomach?”

His head whips to me, our gaze clashing.

“What?” He asks with wide eyes.

I sigh, remove the dagger from my thigh, and straighten up. “Where would you like me to rearrange? Your face or your insides?”

He gasps and stares at us both.

And then, the most glorious thing happened next.

Charlie fucking screams.

I tilt my head to the side, unable to take my eyes away from how his face turns deep red as he tries to run again. Strangely enough, the high pitch of his terrified screams carries a hauntingly beautiful sound to my ears.

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