Free Hidden Scars by Amanda King Page B

not wanting to hear the ugly remarks sure to follow.
    “You left this house over twenty-four hours ago—without saying a word to anyone—and you want to know what’s wrong? What’s wrong with you , Morgan?”
    “Dad told me to leave…so I left.” I began to have difficulty breathing and controlling my shaky voice.
    “Don’t you get smart with me, Morgan Selby.”
    “I-I’m not. I don’t know what you want me to say.” I not only felt my heart pounding in my chest, but also heard each rapid beat.
    “According to Wayne, you left yesterday before he woke. What time did you leave and with whom?”
    I tightened my grip on the phone. Still, it shook with every tremor of my hand. I moved it further from my ear to stop the receiver from striking me while I tried to form my answer. I didn’t want to involve Janet and her mother. Mrs. Barnes, if pushed, wouldn’t have any qualms telling Mom what she thought about her. History had proven that.
    “What difference does it make how I got here?”
    “Don’t you dare. Do I need to call your father to the phone?”
    I clutched the topaz necklace around my neck. “No, ma’am.”
    “I know Chuck didn’t work yesterday. Did he come to this house?”
    How did she know this stuff? “No, ma’am.”
    “Then who drove you back?”
    I hesitated.
    “Who! Answer me.”
    “Janet did.”
    “I better not find out Chuck Mathews stepped foot in this house or anywhere on our property. And, Morgan, you can be assured, I’ll be talking with Mrs. Barnes.”
    She hung up.
    I returned the phone to its base and trudged toward my room. I’d made it over halfway when the phone rang again.
    I wanted to scream. Why won’t she leave me alone?
    Remembering it could be Chuck, I headed back to the phone room. Please, God, let it be him .
    I lifted the receiver and held it to my ear without saying a word, nor did I plan to without knowing who was on the other end.
    “Hello?”
    Chuck’s voice soothed my unraveled nerves. “Hi. I’m sorry about not answering, but I wanted to make sure it was you. Where are you?”
    “I’m at Eddie’s. What’s going on?”
    “Mom called a few minutes ago.” I described our conversation and her mood.
    “Morgan, I want you to pack some extra clothes to bring in case we get back to the dorm tonight and your parents are there.”
    “You don’t think that’ll happen, do you?”
    “No, but if they show up, we’ll have a plan. Don’t let them get to you.”
    “Becky’s coming with me.”
    “That’s fine,” he assured me. “We’ll have more than enough food. But don’t answer the phone if it rings again, okay?”
    “All right, but hurry.”
    “Try not to worry. I’ll be there in a few minutes.”
    I ran back to my room and corrected the rain-damaged hair and makeup. Then I shoved pajamas and some personal items in a tote bag, grabbed a dress—hanger and all—and left to get Becky.”
    She eyed the bag. “What’s going on?”
    “Mom called—”
    “Are they here…on their way?” She motioned for me to finish zipping her dress. “I’ll die if your parents show up again. Your parents are crazy—no offense—but I won’t watch a repeat of what happened Friday without calling the police.”
    She talked tough, but I knew Becky was afraid. We both were. “Don’t panic.” Words spoken for my benefit more than hers. “They’re not here, but hopefully Chuck and Kyle are. Come on. I’ll explain on the way.”
    By the time we made it to the lobby, the guys were pulling up to the front door. Chuck jumped out with an umbrella and escorted us to the car. He took the tote bag from me and placed it on the floorboard after I slid across the backseat.
    Kyle navigated his bright yellow Camaro out of the parking lot and drove a short distance to a simple white cottage in dire need of fresh paint. Dirt peeked through scant patches of dead grass. Even the one lonely tree stood contorted and naked of its leaves. The only thing thriving was the row