The Muse by Nicholas Matthews Page A

face on the door.”
                “No way,” Gibson said.  “We're not playing this game.  Somebody hit you.  I want to know who it was.”
                Faith shook her head and buried her face in her hands again.  “I can't,” she sobbed.  “I'm so stupid.”
                Gibson grabbed her arms gently.  Faith looked up at him.  “You are not stupid,” he said.  “Not at all.  Nobody had the right to do this to you.  Tell me what happened.  Please.”
                “Apparently, my mouth tends to get me in trouble,” she said.  “I said something I shouldn't have.  Remember me telling you that guys want to be with me only for what I can do for them.  I made the mistake of telling one that.  He didn't react very well.”
                Gibson remembered the guy he had seen outside Faith's door.  The one with the flowers.  If he were a betting man, he would have wagered a month's earnings on that being the culprit.  He conjured up the guy's face in his mind.  It was one of the times that having such an artistic gift came in handy.  He was very, very good with faces.
                “This is not your fault.  Not for one second.  Don't you think otherwise.”
                “I just feel so stupid.” 
                “Come on,” Gibson said, lightly touching her arm.  “You're coming up with me.  We need to get some ice on that.  I'm not taking no for an answer.  We'll discuss calling the police along the way.  And you aren't stupid!  Stop saying that.”
                Faith shook her head.  “This isn't your problem.  You don't have to involve yourself.”
                “I'm making it my problem,” Gibson replied.  “Now, come on.  Let's go take care of that bruise.”
                Faith looked up at him with red-streaked eyes.  Gibson held out his hand.  Faith studied it for a moment before taking it.  “I won't bite,” Gibson said.  “I promise.  I'll even buy you another ice cream if it will make you feel better.”
                Faith laughed at that and smiled.  She held out her hand and let him help her to her feet.  She studied him carefully for a moment, and it was clear that she was considering something.  Gibson's mind was racing too.   
                For the first time in a long time, he had allowed himself to think about someone else besides himself.  He focused on someone else's problems other than his own, and he was a totally different person as a result.  It was such a liberating feeling.  He hadn't given a thought to how lonely he was, how miserable he felt, how cheated he felt at the way his life had turned out.  Instead, he was focused on Faith. 
                “You're not the same guy I talked to the other day,” Faith said.  “And that guy I talked to the other day wasn't the same guy I had talked to on previous occasions.  So what gives?  Did the Body Snatchers get to you?  Are you being assimilated?”
                Gibson laughed.  “Isn't there a test of some sort you can perform to see if that's the case?”
                “Well in the movie, those who have been taken over are emotionless.  You actually seem to care.  I guess you're safe.”
                “I'm safe,” Gibson confirmed.  “Now, follow me.  Are you okay to walk?”
                “I'm fine,” Faith said.  “My pride is hurt more than anything else, although this bruise might come in a close second.” 
                “Say no more,” Gibson replied.  “Let's just focus on making you feel better.  How about that?”
                “Sounds perfect to me,” Faith said.   
                They didn't say much else on the way up to Gibson's floor.  The building had no elevator, and they were forced to take the stairs.  Gibson led