Page 5 of If You Give an Artist a Killer Muse

“Should we call a cab?” my mum asks, looking around at the yellow cars lining up.

“No need,” he says. “We have a driver coming to pick us up.”

I guess those are the perks of having someone with political power. We don’t have to wait long because a black SUV with tinted windows pulls up before us. After we settle inside the car with our belongings shoved into the trunk, we finally drive off.

My mum continues asking the driver questions about New York while her boyfriend scrolls through his phone with a frown. I’m about to nudge him with my finger to ask how much longer until we get to our destination when the car abruptly stops.

“What was that?” My mum asks, grabbing onto his arm.

A cold, prickly sensation ran down my spine as the driver says nothing.

“John?” My mum’s boyfriend asks.

When the driver doesn’t answer, I watch my mum’s boyfriend shift into his political figure mode. He immediately calls someone on the phone, rubbing a comforting hand on my mum’s back, and whispers some words to the person on the other end.

I can’t understand words because he’s speaking too fast and too low.

The words I do catch are “here,” “gangsters,” and “trouble.”

What trouble? Are we in trouble?

He unbuckles himself and orders, “You two stay here.”

Before my mum and I can protest, he jumps out of the car, and I just realize he has a gun in his hand. What the hell… Did he have that with him the whole time?

I knew Americans had this obsession with guns but holy shit. I’ve never seen one in person. Just then, I heard shouting and gunshots. My mum screams, but I can’t keep my eyes off the scene before me.

The person shooting at the senator—yes, my mum’s boyfriend—is wearing a black balaclava. I slam my hand against the window and shout for them to stop. To my surprise, they hear me and turn around.

I freeze.

Those eyes.

I recognize those eyes...

No. Not possible.

The person frowns before their partner grabs their arm, pulling them away. I blink, suddenly aware of the sounds of sirens ringing.

I watch with wide eyes as the shooters leave and look back at my mum’s boyfriend. He was shot in the arm, but he didn’t look bothered.

When the mayhem quieted down, he opens our car door and sighs. “When I get home, I should show you guys something. There are people you need to stay away from. Dangerous people.”

I couldn’t stop thinking about that one shooter with the bright caramel-colored eyes.

It can’t be her.

It’s not her.

Five seconds. That's all it takes to lock eyes with a stranger and sense that my life will change.

Chapter 1

Briar — Present

I drag a finger to the man’s chest, smirking when I hear his breath hitching as I continue to caress his throat.

“Come on, James,” I purr, throwing a leg over him to straddle his lap. I whisper in his ear, “My bestie will pick me up soon, and I still need to get ready. Can you please give it to me so I can get going?”

---