Set Me Free by London Setterby Read Free Book Online

technically live here.”
    “Your name is Muscles?” I asked.
    “The guys at the fire station started calling me that years ago, and it’s kind of stuck.” In addition to being pretty burly, Muscles had quite the impressive mustache.
    I smiled. “As nicknames go, it could be worse.”
    “Muscles is a firefighter,” Kaye explained. “He’s our token manly man.”
    “Hey,” Andy protested, around a mouthful of crackers.
    Suddenly, I realized that Scott was staring at me. He gave me an odd, crooked smile. “Everyone’s talking about you in town, you know.”
    I flinched, hoping he didn’t mean my parking lot.
    Kaye frowned. “Scott, be nice. Anyway, that’s not…totally true.”
    “It’s okay,” I assured her, despite how raw I felt. I hated the thought of people knowing this about me.
    “We’re just not used to having new people here,” Andy said apologetically. “Most people come in June and leave in August.”
    “I’m not going to leave.”
    Scott was still watching me. He looked…fascinated. As if he were an entomologist and I were a butterfly he wanted to stick on a pin. “Maybe she means it. If she stays, she’ll need to learn some of our secrets.”
    Kaye rolled her eyes. “Scott…not now. Seriously.”
    “You probably don’t need to worry about that, buddy.” Andy handed Scott the box of crackers, and Scott turned his attention to them, instead of me. I shivered with relief, but I still felt the imprint of his eyes on my skin.

Chapter 7
    I hopped from stone to stone, splashing stream water on my wedge espadrilles. I should probably have worn sneakers, but I’d left my only pair in the closet I’d shared with Rhys.
    Now that I had a little bit more money, I’d started slowly replacing my abandoned wardrobe. It just hadn’t occurred to me—city girl that I was—that on Fall Island, “a nice walk along a nature trail” meant fording rivers and climbing mountains.
    I ducked under a pine bough and emerged onto a cracked granite hilltop. Sunlight streamed down from a periwinkle sky and caught on veins of crystal quartz in the granite, casting little fireflies of light across the air. All around me, the dark tops of pine trees rippled in the breeze, rising and falling like ocean waves. At least the view was worth it.
    I spread one of Kaye’s extra picnic blankets across the granite and pulled a sketchbook and pencils from my handbag. I’d decided to use my occasional days off to learn from Suzanna White’s paintings, especially her energetic use of color. I wanted to make my own work less dark, less quiet, but I was so out of practice after my year with Rhys that I didn’t know where to begin. I hardly remembered how to hold a pencil.
    Before I could second-guess myself, I flipped open my sketchbook and drew Suzanna’s angel statue in big, bold strokes, with the hood of her robe down to reveal each twining curl and her wings spread wide. At the foot of her statue, I drew myself, comically small, gazing up at her.
    “Miranda?”
    Startled, I leapt up, knocking my sketchbook off my lap onto the blanket. I turned—
    Owen Larsen stood at the mouth of the forest path. Sunlight poured down onto his blond hair and broad shoulders. He squinted at me, his brow furrowing, while my heart pounded crazily. What was he doing here?
    “You’re hurt,” Owen said.
    “I am?” I glanced down. For the first time, I noticed the blood racing down my leg. A big gash on my knee hung open.
    “Christ.” Owen ran a hand through his brilliant hair. He stalked across the hilltop towards me. “How did you do that?” he demanded.
    “I don’t know! I was just sketching.”
    Owen’s gaze snapped towards mine. A strange flicker of emotion passed across his face. “You’d better sit down,” he said gruffly, “and let me take a look at this.”
    “I’m sure it’s fine,” I said, even as the warm blood coated my shin and trickled dangerously close to the ankle strap of my wedges. “My shoe,” I