The Silhouette Girl by V.C. Andrews

Author:V.C. Andrews
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Gallery Books

Pru

CHANDLER STEPPED IN the moment I opened the door, put his arms around me, and kissed me as if he had crossed the ocean to meet me. He often kissed me with such passion that he swept me off my feet, especially now that we were apart longer. But there was something about this kiss that was different. It was a kiss that was searching for confirmation, examining and testing. He held his lips just off mine, waiting for me to kiss him again. Would I? I knew that feeling of uncertainty he was experiencing. Doubt, especially when it came to romance, was an old acquaintance.

“You all right?” he asked suspiciously after I gave him a short second kiss, my lips snapping on his with the click of a match being struck. “You sounded upset when I called you from the airport. Something happen at work?”

His eyes were two microscope lenses searching my face for clues.

“No,” I said, turning away from him quickly. I didn’t trust my normally inscrutable face under such scrutiny. In a moment, he would know all.

But I understood why he had questions and concerns. No doubt I had sounded troubled when he called. Practically the entire time I was getting ready and dressed to go to our fancy dinner, my hands had been trembling. At one point, I had to stop and rub them together vigorously because they were numb. It felt like blood wasn’t getting to my fingers. The tips looked white. I was beginning to disappear. The strength, determination, and courage I prided myself on having as an independent woman seemed to be crumbling. Little parts of me like late autumn leaves were breaking off and floating down.

Now I wondered what Chandler would realize. Would he take one look at me and know what Douglas Thomas had done? I really was afraid of that happening no matter how I tried to disguise myself. I had seen victims of rape in the ER waiting to be examined. Their faces looked frozen in shock, but the explosion of emotion, horror, and violation was imminent. They were time bombs ticking away. Some had difficulty breathing, others couldn’t stop crying, and then there were those who decided they couldn’t go through with the exam and confirmation. They would live with the pain. Of course, they never would. It was forever part of their essence, printed on their bones. They would take it to their graves and wait for it to fade into dust.

What would I do now?

Which face would Chandler see? Perhaps my reaction to what Douglas Thomas had done was buried under my second emotional trauma in less than forty-eight hours. Ironically, I should be grateful to Scarletta. At the moment, the shock and distress she had caused had risen to the surface and forced everything else beneath it. Of all the messages Scarletta had left, this last one struck the center of my heart of fears: I could run, but I couldn’t hide? Nothing she previously had said was as clearly colored with her determination to do me some harm.

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