Page 40 of His Innocent Muse

“I need to see her, now.”

Mayhem growls,“Just trust me for once, would ya? Shit. Here. I’d rather not lose my ball sack, alright, so could you just say hi?”

There’s rustling, then nothing.

“Lucy?”

More silence. My pulse is out of control, breath suspended as I wait.

Finally, there’s a choked sound, followed by her sweet, perfect voice.“Ghost?”

“Lucy…”

Her name comes out in a rush of relief, adrenaline and joy making a dizzying cocktail in my brain. If there’d been any question how I feel about her, it’s wiped away with every slamming thump in my chest that echoes her name.

“H-Hi,”she stammers with a sniffle.“I’m so sorry.”

“Shh, it’s alright.” I swallow my tremor down. “We’ll talk when you’re home.”

The sentence grips my throat for only a moment, before it settles in my mind. Home.

Mayhem grunts.“There, fuck. You’d think I’m an untrustworthy psychopath or something.”

I feel like I’m floating, but the lack of sleep makes everything hazy.

“Wrong,” I sigh. “You are a trustworthy psychopath, as long as I keep your leash loose and your pockets full.”

He laughs and I allow the smile, mostly unused muscles stretching for the first time in what feels like eternity. She’s alive. Alive and mine.

“Bring her to me.”

“Got it. See you soon.”

He hangs up, and I have to fight the urge to call him right back.

Not only do I need to hear her voice again, I should have asked more questions.

Why was she choking? How bad are the marks on her face? I hope for both our sakes the damage isn’t permanent. I’m not sure I’d ever forgive myself, and she’d be forced to live with a reminder of the time I failed her so completely. No matter how often I’d say she’s beautiful, she’d never believe me. How could I have been so careless with her?

My anxiety ramps again, every scenario I envision worse than the one before.

Fuck, I need to calm down. I press my palms on the steering wheel and let my head fall forward for only a second, then my car roars, tires screeching as I pull onto the road.

Streetlights blur, horns blare and vanish, and I can’t get back to Vie De Mort fast enough. My eyes burn, but I force them to stay open, because sleep is the last thing I’ll earn tonight.

Our building comes into view, and even though I know logically I was closer, I can’t stop the gnawing disappointment that Mayhem’s car isn’t here. Though…maybe he had to park in the back lot. She might—she might already be inside. Waiting.

I screech into my spot and launch out of the car before the engine is dead. My legs give a little from bone-deep exhaustion, but I trot inside, running through the venue, past the elevators and straight to the stairs. Every heartbeat is a bass drum, nerves and excitement needling my palms as I jerk the door open to—

Silence.

I take a moment to catch my breath, adjust my suit and round the hallway.

“Lucy, I…what…the hell?”

I stumble a step, entering the living room. Sound leaves and rushes back in waves.

The place is immaculate. I vaguely remember Mayhem saying something, but there’s not even a smudge mark on the counter. No footprints in the rug. No handprints on the glass. No small wet puddles from her feet, not even a dust molecule on the floor. It’s like she was never here at…all.

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