Free Hidden Scars by Amanda King Page A

about the physical abuse you’ve suffered for years.”
    “You didn’t?”
    “Yes, I did. I hate it when your parents mistreat you. But they know about us now, and I’m glad. Now Mrs. Henderson knows about them. We love each other, Morgan. We’re through hiding. We can get married without them interfering.”
    “No. Don’t ever think they’d give up so easily. My parents aren’t through with me, and they’ll never allow us to get married. If Kay and my brother hadn’t been there last night, things would’ve turned out so different. You don’t know them .”
    He reached over and softly kissed my cheek, then my lips. “It’s okay, Morgan. I’m here now. Not just for tonight, but every night. I rented a small house not too far from the campus, and I spent the day looking for a job. I start in two weeks.”
    “What kind of job?”
    “Doing the same thing I did for Mr. Fisher, repairing appliances. Meanwhile, I’ll commute from here to finish my two weeks for Mr. Fisher. But I don’t ever want you to have to face your parents alone again.”
    I wanted to believe his words and loved him even more for wanting to protect me. God, if only it could be true. I slid into his arms and enjoyed the love and comfort they provided. His touch, smell, and kisses sent waves of tremors throughout my body. But then Dad’s threats of harm to Chuck resurfaced. It would take a miracle for us to have the life I’d been praying for.

Chapter 11
    Gusty wind greeted Becky and me as we walked down the church steps. Our hair blew in multiple directions. Dark, low hanging clouds obscured the sun, and an occasional raindrop fell.
    Becky forced her Bible into her already overstuffed purse. “We better run, or we’re going to get wet.”
    “Looks like it.” I wrapped my sweater snug around me as we sprinted across the street toward the campus. “Can you believe neither of us remembered an umbrella?”
    “What I really can’t believe,” she shouted over her shoulder, “is Chuck picked such a nasty day to move.”
    “I sure hope he and Kyle are already at the house and they’ve gotten everything unloaded.”
    Becky held out her palm as the number of drops increased. “Come on.” She picked up the pace. “Before we get drenched.”
    Tree limbs began to sway with the force of the wind as rain pelted us at a forty-five-degree angle. By the time we made it inside the dorm, my hair, clothes, and shoes were soaked.
    Becky wasn’t in much better shape. Black mascara dribbled down both cheeks, and her hair plastered to her head. I had to choke back a giggle.
    “What’s so funny?”
    “You.” I erupted into snorts and cackles. “You should see your face.”
    She mopped clingy wet hair from her eyes as we studied our reflections in the mirror hanging in the entranceway. Four sullied eyes, squinting through black smudged faces, stared back at us. Complete silence gave way to piercing squeals of our own mockery.
    The lighthearted mood was soothing medicine.
    As we headed down the hall, I asked, “You’re still going, right?”
    “To see the house? Sure. But first I’ll need to change clothes and do something with this hair and face.”
    “Good.” I peeled off the heavy cardigan and draped it over my arm. “After I get myself cleaned up and hear from Chuck, I’ll come get you.”
    #
    While I ran a comb through my wet hair, my excitement intensified at the thought of seeing the house Chuck and I would soon share as husband and wife. When the phone rang, I sprinted out of my room and down the hall, eager to hear his voice. “Hello?”
    “Morgan?”
    My smile vanished. “Yes, ma’am.”
    “Where have you been?” Mom spoke in cadence.
    I shook my head. This can’t be happening. “I’ve been at church.”
    “You’ve been at church all morning?”
    “I left here around ten thirty. Why? What’s wrong?” I tightened my fist, angry with myself for asking the questions that played right into her hands. I held my breath,