Her Last Chance by Toni Anderson

Author:Toni Anderson [Anderson, Toni]
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Published: 2013-12-23T00:00:00+00:00

***

The light was perfect. If she could concentrate on color, on how to make the folds of the Statue of Liberty’s toga look both fluid and solid at the same time, everything would be fine. Squeezing out permanent green, some phthalo green and a blob of cobalt green deep acrylic, she stared stupidly at her palette. Her hands shook as feeling slowly crept back into her senses.

This was never going to work. Being with Marsh was never going to work.

He couldn’t protect her forever and she didn’t want him around purely out of obligation. Neither did she want to put him in danger or have to worry about him. She closed her eyes and swayed. She was an idiot.

She should have run that first day but she’d hesitated and that had been her first mistake.

Liberty’s upraised arm mocked her. This painting was supposed to represent the indomitable spirit of New York City. It was supposed to represent the phoenix rising from the ashes of grief and the courage of the people of this great city. But how could she hope to do it justice when she couldn’t even walk the streets without a bodyguard? She despised what her life had become. She wasn’t some weak little drip who hung on a man’s word and expected him to take care of her. Neither did she want to be the dumbfuck blonde in a horror flick who got caught by a monster with a big sharp knife.

Marshall Hayes got under her skin in a way no man ever had before. She wanted to believe in him, wanted to lean on him, and knew she couldn’t risk it.

Sunlight filtered in through the tall glass windows and worked tiny beads of sweat on her temple. At age nine she’d learned the key to survival was keeping quiet. Keep your head down, don’t get involved. Don’t expose your emotions. Run, hide, watch, survive, strike out when necessary, and keep your goddamned mouth shut. Her father’s image rose up in her mind, calling her names because she’d had the audacity to resemble her mother. What would Walter Maxwell have done different if he’d known his wife had been murdered rather than left him? Josephine frowned for a moment. It would have been another excuse to drink himself to death. No wonder her mother had gone off with another man. Marion had saved her, taken her in, and in the end Josie had repaid that debt with painful death.

Painful death had a habit of following her around and she couldn’t stand the idea it might be Marsh this time as a result of some vain effort to save her. But she was not letting a man—not even a good man like Marsh, and definitely not an evil bastard like the Blade Hunter—control her life.

Her fingers closed around the handle of the paintbrush and she dipped it in the thick cobalt green. Stepped across to the stepladder and put her foot on the first rung.

“Are you going to listen to reason?” Marsh’s voice came quietly from the doorway and her blood revved.

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