The Mirror Sisters (The Mirror Sisters 1) - Page 79

“Let’s not make our first night together an unhappy one, Kaylee. We’ve been looking forward to this for so long.”

I shook my head. “You were talking to my sister, Haylee. I swear,” I said, sucking back my tears but finding it harder to breathe.

“You’re as pretty in person as you are in pictures, Kaylee. When I was undressing you, I thought you were the most beautiful young woman I’d ever seen. You look like that Venus statue. I was very careful when I touched you. I didn’t even want to leave fingerprints. That’s how gentle I was and always will be.”

I felt my throat close up, and my chest felt so heavy I thought I would smother my own heart. All I could do was sob.

He stood there watching me and then reached out and grasped my hair. I screamed in pain.

“There’s only one thing to do with you when you’re like this. That’s put you to bed. Stand up,” he ordered. “Stand!”

I rose, trembling. He seized my upper left arm and turned me toward the bed. He pulled back the comforter and plumped the pillow.

“Get in,” he said. “Go on.”

I shook my head, but he seized my arm again, and I got onto the bed. He pressed on my shoulders so I would lie back, and then he pulled the comforter up to my shoulders and tucked it under me.

“Comfy?” he asked. “It’s a brand-new mattress, just for you, and for me, of course. But not tonight. Tonight I want you just to enjoy our hideaway by yourself. It is a hideaway. In here, we can hide away from all that’s unpleasant in the world. We don’t have to watch the news together or read the papers. This will be our world. We’ll create our own news. Later on, when you’re ready, we’ll go out, and we’ll enjoy the farm. We’ll have picnics and go on hikes and do everything you dreamed we would, but we have to have our . . . what should I call it . . . what did you call it? Yes, I remember, our honeymoon. This will be our honeymoon.”

The cat leaped onto the bed

“Oh, look, Mr. Moccasin likes you. He’s going to sleep beside you. That’s something. He doesn’t particularly like anyone else. He won’t let anyone but me pet him or hold him, but I bet he will let you soon.”

He reached up and pulled the cord on the light above us, and half the basement went dark. Then he leaned over and kissed me on the cheek.

“Sleep tight, and don’t let the bedbugs bite. I’m joking,” he added quickly. “There are no bedbugs, not in this farmhouse. When you wake up, I’ll be right here making your French toast. You did say it was one of your favorites, Kaylee. I have homegrown maple syrup for us and farm-fresh eggs to use. You told me what coffee you like, and I have it. Oh, and there’s fresh fruit, too. We’ll eat healthy.”

He petted Mr. Moccasin, looked at me, and smiled.

“I don’t remember ever being happier than I am at this moment. Thank you, Kaylee, for bringing us together,” he said.

He walked to the doorway, reaching up to pull the cord of the second light on his way. It dropped darkness all around me. There was the tiniest sliver of light coming through a board over one of the windows. I heard the door close and his footsteps on a stairway. After that, I could hear him walking above me. It was the only sound, except for the pounding of my heart resonating in my ears. And then I heard his cat start to purr.

I sat up and reached down to the ankle bracelet. I couldn’t find where it was fastened. It was impossible to slip it off. I tried and tried, until it was too painful, and then I began to sob again. The cat came closer, and I felt its head against my right hand. I had the mad idea that it was trying to comfort me. I slipped off the bed and in the darkness made my way to the door through which he had gone. It wasn’t locked. That gave me a surge of hope. I opened it slowly. The light seeping under the door above the stairway lit it enough. I started for the first step, moving slowly so that the chain wouldn’t make too much noise, but I was able to get only to the middle of the stairway before I ran out of chain. When it tightened, a wave of panic deep and wide came over me. I sat on a step and gasped. My gasps turned into sobs. If I could only see a clock, I would know how much longer it would be before Haylee would realize I was not coming back and tell Mother.

What would she tell Mother? I wondered as I envisioned that moment. She would have to tell her all about her Internet romance. Mother would be furious, but she would put all that aside and concentrate on getting me back. They would go right to the police, and Haylee would tell them everything she knew about Anthony. It might take a while, but they’d find me tonight, I thought. I must stay calm.

After a few more deep breaths, I picked up the chain so it wouldn’t rattle on the steps and went back into the basement. I thought it best to close the door again so he wouldn’t know I had tried to get out this way. Then I moved slowly back to the bed. I didn’t see Mr. Moccasin on the bed. I sat on it and then just lay back without pulling the comforter over me.

Moments later, the door was thrown open. Anthony reached up for the light cord. He stood there, holding Mr. Moccasin. I had not seen the cat go out with me, and I must have locked him between the basement and the upstairs.

“Why did you let Mr. Moccasin out, Kaylee? He’s here for you.”

I didn’t answer.

“You weren’t trying to leave, were you? I was about to go to sleep.” He put the cat down. “When I heard Mr. Moccasin crying at the door, I realized I had made a terrible mistake. I shouldn’t have left you alone in a new place. I don’t know what’s wrong with me, not realizing that. I’m sorry. Of course I’ll sleep with you. You’ll find that I’m a little shy. That comes from living alone so long, but I promise, I’ll get over it. I know you’re not shy.”

He reached up and pulled the light cord again. Silhouetted by the tiny bead of light through the boarded window, he walked toward the bed slowly. I cringed. He fixed the comforter again and got into the bed beside me. I felt him reach for my hand.

“Feeling better?” he asked.

“What time is it?” I asked, hoping he would just tell me, hoping he wouldn’t realize why I was asking.

“Oh, it’s late,” he said. “Way past my bedtime.”

“How late?”

“It’s close to midnight, Kaylee,” he said.

Tags: V.C. Andrews The Mirror Sisters Suspense
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