Shadow of a Girl

by Shannon Greenland

  West tenderly rocks me to the beat of our music. The song we wrote together. Him and me. An unbelievably perfect match.

  And in this moment I am convinced nothing can come between us.

  Chapter Forty-Four

  “Morning, sunshine.” West tickles my toes.

  I pry my left eye open, and everything we did last night immediately fills my thoughts. Nervous energy builds within me as I stare up at him standing beside the couch, grinning down at me.

  “I’ve got fresh coffee,” he whispers enticingly.

  I stretch and sniff, and he presents a cup. Wiggling up, I grab the mug and take a welcoming sip. “What time is it?”

  He cups my cheeks and gives me a quick kiss. “Seven.”

  Last night in the dark with the fire glowing, everything had been intimate, secretive, hidden. Now in the bright daylight, it’s all almost too real. I can’t help but wonder what I look like. What I smell like. I take another drink of coffee, hoping to mask my morning breath.

  I survey his fresh clothes and wet hair. “You showered.”

  He sits down on the couch and slides my feet into his lap. “Yes.”

  I’m curious how we slept together the whole night on this couch, and he got up and showered and made coffee and I didn’t wake up. That’s not like me.

  “Last night was awesome,” he says.

  Yes, it was.

  Love. It comes across very real to me right now. All warm and bubbly and floaty. All sexy and smiley and well, cute to the point of ridiculous. I lift the mug and take another sip, acting like I’m not thinking about what I am. Love. “So, what do you want to do today?” I glance through the bank of windows that overlook the valley. “Looks like it’s going to be pretty.”

  “Yep, and that’s a perfect lead into what I want to ask you.” He leans forward. “There’s supposed to be a festival going on in the next town over. Thought we could browse the booths and share a funnel cake. Yes? No?”

  “I love that idea!” I hop up. “Give me thirty and I’ll be ready.”

  He tweaks my butt as I trot past, and I smile all the way upstairs and through my shower.

  We spend the entire day in the small town, winding in and out of booths and eating entirely too much junk food. At a pet stand, we buy an enormous bone for Jake. Other than my blue hair, no one really pays us attention. Then again, this isn’t an Indie Rock area. People probably have no clue who West really is.

  Late afternoon rolls in, and West asks, “Know how to play pool?”

  Anne’s awesome at pool, and she spent a whole day back when we first met teaching me how to play. I caught on quick. I like the game. “Yeah, a little,” I answer.

  “Are you a betting girl?”

  “I can be,” I tell him.

  “Well, I usually wager kisses.”

  I laugh. “Kisses?”

  “But since we’re way past that point, how about this: if I win, you have to go back with me to visit my family.”

  I would’ve gone anyway. “And if I win?”

  “You name it,” he says.

  I think about that a second. “I know. I want to stay in a big fancy suite in the next city.”

  He nods. “Deal. Only if you let me come over and ravish you with my luscious kisses.”

  “Luscious kisses?” I ask, completely amused.

  West pulls me in and gives me a very public, very long, delicious one just to prove his point. I don’t want this to stop. It’s all I can think as he leads the way a couple of blocks down and into a small log cabin with a BBQ & POOL sign hanging from it.

  A barbeque pit occupies one corner and small tables sit scattered about. A horseshoe-shaped bar takes up the middle, and three pinball machines stand against the back wall. Four pool tables form a line, spaced a few feet apart. Two of the four pool tables are occupied, so West leads me to the farthest one.

  He slides some quarters into the table’s slots, and after taking my jacket off I start racking the balls. I place every striped and solid in their specific spot, like Anne taught me, then spin the eight ball for a tighter break. I pick up a cue stick and roll it across the table, making sure it isn’t bowed.

  West narrows his eyes. “Something tells me you’ve done this before.”

  I chalk the tip. “Anne taught me a few things. So, do you want to play eight ball, nine ball, snooker?”

  He cocks a brow. “You’re going to kick my ass aren’t you?”

  I slide him a look. “Maybe.”

  “I only know how to play eight ball.”

  “Good choice. Anne says that’s a good betting game, and I have a hotel suite to win.” I reach inside my front jeans pocket and pull out a quarter. “Call it.” I flip it in the air.

  “Heads.”

  I snatch it on its descent, turn it over to reveal tails, and West grunts his disappointment. Shoving the quarter back into my pocket, I pull the rack from the balls and execute a clean break. The loud cracking noise echoes around us as a solid red sails to the rear corner pocket.

  I glance up at West to see if he’s impressed and catch him staring right down my shirt. I straighten, and he brings his eyes to mine. “Cute bra.” My face catches on fire, and he laughs. “Just trying to distract you, that’s all.”

  “West,” I playfully warn.

  “What?” he laughs. “There was nothing in the bet about distraction rules.”

  I circle the table, wishing I knew how to play the flirting game better. “I’m sure the bra wasn’t nearly as cute as those lacy ones that get thrown at you.”

  “Jealous?”

  I give him a look that says I’m anything but. Yet I suppose I am.

  “Don’t worry, I’d rather see your beige cotton one than any lacy thing.”

  “West,” I warn again.

  “Fair enough.” He waves me on.

  I tug my V-neck T-shirt up so he can’t see my bra, then line up for the next shot. A solid yellow goes in the side pocket, then a solid blue into a corner pocket. I miss green, and West jumps off his stool.

  I search my brain for something to say to distract him but come up with nothing.

  He succeeds in sinking a purple striped but misses on his next try.

  I step back into place and lean over for my next ball, completely aware West stands right behind me.

  “You’ve got a cute little butt.”

  I miss my shot and turn to look at him. “You did that on purpose.”

  “Yes, I did.” He misses his shot, too.

  My turn again. I motion for him to go sit on a stool. “No talking. And no lecherous looks.”

  “Lecherous looks?”

  I narrow my eyes, “You know what I mean,” and point to my shirt, loving the fun between us.

  He holds his hands up in surrender.

  My solid green ricochets off the side and zips into the opposite corner. I circle, studying the solid purple, and then send it from one end of the table to the other, back again, and spiraling down a front corner pocket.

  West claps. “Go, girl.”

  I round the table for the winning shot, the eight ball. I point to the side pocket to signify where the eight will go, give it a soft tap, and it plops into its appointed hole.

  I glance up to where West still sits on his stool, and he crooks his finger at me.

  Casually, I stroll over. “Guess you’re getting me a suite.”

  “Guess so.” He hooks his finger in my front belt loop and pulls me in between his legs. “Anne would be so proud.”

  I loop my arms around his neck. “Yep.”

  He presses his lips right below my ear and chuckles, and it sends a shiver hopping down my spine. He slides his hands to my rib cage and pulls me closer as his lips trace down the line of my neck. I tilt my head, savoring the tingles sparking through my spine. He presses one last kiss to my cheek before hopping off his stool, grabbing my hand, and walking me out. Halfway back to his SUV, West glances over to me, and he just smiles.

  I smile back,
soaking in the moment. “Maybe next time we can bet for more of what we did last night?” I unexpectedly, boldly say.

  He stops walking and turns to me. “Eve, are you flirting with me?”

  I cover my face with my hands and nod. “Yes, sorry.”

  He pries my hands away, and I look up into his amused eyes as he kisses me on the lips. “Don’t ever apologize for flirting. I love it. And we don’t have to bet. I’ll gladly let you do more ‘homework’ anytime.”

  As we finish walking back to the SUV, the sun completely sets, and exterior lights begin flipping on. One to the right draws my attention. It’s brighter than the others, and sits up high. I glance up and notice a billboard.

  A billboard of me.

  Chapter Forty-Five

  Every muscle freezes into place as I stare up at the sign and the giant advertisement of me and Gideon. Or the me I used to be. It’s us from last year, right there just fifty or so feet away.

  “What is it?” West asks, picking up on my mood change.

  Unease stirs restlessly within me, and I shake my head. “Nothing.” But anxiety rises even further as I rip my gaze away and try to take in a breath that gets lodged. I note my hands are shaking and clench them into fists.

  “Eve?”

  I glance over to see his brows lift.

  My thoughts cloud with what used to be, what is right now, and what might happen if I don’t get out of here. This place and our time together in it, felt so remote from the ugly truth of my situation. I should’ve known I’d get slammed back into reality.

  “Everything okay?” he asks in a careful voice that tells me he knows everything is not okay.

  Seconds pass and silence hangs in the air between us as my brain scrambles with my past, my present, my future. With secrets and silence and things I need to say. With possibilities and those unattainable.

  He takes my arm. “What’s wrong?”

  What’s wrong? My whole life is a lie, and now my lies are ruining relationships I always wanted and yet barely started enjoying. How do I explain it all? Am I in too deep with him now to go back and try to tell him the truth?

  I open the passenger door. “Nothing,” I say and something sinks in me as I watch his expression transition from careful to one full of tension.

  I pray he doesn’t look up to the billboard as he rounds the hood and climbs in the driver’s side. I pull my phone out and check for messages from Bluma, but there are none. I scroll through news feeds next and nothing seems different.

  Still my anxiety is not alleviated.

  Eternity spans between me and West as he takes us back to the cabin. When we’re home, he puts the SUV in park, and his gaze settles on me. “You know we’re good, right? You can tell me anything and I won’t judge.”

  I force my eyes to finally look into his. “I know,” I deliver in a much braver tone than I feel.

  Gently, he grasps my face and touches his forehead to mine. “I’m here for you. Just like I know you’re here for me.” His presses a kiss to my cheek and sits back. “Everything is going to be okay. I know it’s not right now. I can tell. But I’ll do everything in my power to make your world right. Always remember that.”

  Everything rushes to my tongue, wanting to be told. West looks away and climbs from the SUV and I watch as he says hi to Jake. Coldness settles through me, and I sit in the passenger side, numbly staring at the two of them.

  Just like I know you’re here for me.

  My chest aches as I recall him sharing the story about his mom and sister. Emotion creeps its way up and suddenly I can’t breathe again. I’m not who he thinks I am, and he is going to be crushed when he finds out I’ve been lying.

  West swings his gaze up from Jake to me still sitting in the SUV. Something about his dark, searching, trusting eyes has me reaching for the door handle. It’s time I told him who I really am. It’s time I see how he reacts.

  Omar pulls up, and I pause as I watch West go to see what he wants. Their conversation goes on for a few minutes, and finally I get out of the vehicle. I hover back, waiting, but then Omar casts me a suspicious look, and I turn and make my way inside.

  The cabin phone rings. It’s Ms. Kelly. West gets on a conference call with her and some other people who I really don’t know what their role is.

  I grab a quick shower and head out onto the porch where I climb into the hammock. Time ticks by at an interminable rate while I wait on West. My brain cycles through the intimacy we’ve shared, the conversations we’ve had, and mentally I go through the next one.

  My real name is Nesiah.

  I’m only sixteen.

  I’m a runaway.

  My father is—

  I stop, and I take a breath. What can West do? I mean, really what can he do? Nothing. Absolutely nothing. Gideon is too powerful. West can’t protect me, and I don’t expect him to. With a sigh, I glance around the porch and out into the darkness of the surrounding woods. If I could just hide out here until I’m eighteen.

  I pull a blanket over me, close my eyes, and try to void my thoughts…

  Chapter Forty-Six

  I know I have to do this. There are no other choices. No one to call, nowhere to run. Bluma certainly can’t help me.

  Clutching my gown, I take a deep breath and try to clear my mind. “Tell me what to do.”

  The private physician squeezes my hand. “Scoot your bottom all the way to the end of the table and put your feet in these stirrups. Then lie back and spread your legs.”

  My face catches on fire.

  “Now don’t worry about that part,” he interjects quickly.

  “I’ll put a sheet over you and cover you completely. I’m going to insert this device,” he holds up some silver thing, “into your vagina and open it up a little. It’s not painful,” he assures me. “You’ll feel a little pressure, that’s all. There’s no need to be embarrassed.”

  I appreciate his attempt at reassuring me but just want to get the whole thing over with.

  He pulls out a sheet and lays it across my legs. “Go ahead and scoot down, put your feet in the stirrups, and lie back.”

  Afterwards I hear him talking in the hall. “Her hymen’s intact.”

  Gideon blows out a breath. “Good. That’s good.”

  I open my eyes and stare at the wood planks of the porch’s ceiling, orienting myself. I’m lying on my back in the hammock. A chill runs through me, and I realize the blanket has slid off.

  My knees are bent, spread wide in a pelvic exam position. Groggily, I close them and pull the blanket back up. That exam had happened just hours before I ran from home. Gideon was convinced I had snuck off with a boy. Up until West, I barely even spoke to boys and Gideon thought I had sex with one. I hate him for everything he’s done to me. That hate burns through my gut, and I rub my hand across my stomach to alleviate the fire.

  Rolling over onto my side, I see West sitting in the corner of the porch staring out into the night. Immediately I think of the position I was in when I woke up, but he’s not even looking at me. I doubt he saw it.

  “Hey,” I whisper. “You should’ve woken me up.”

  He switches his attention to me. “I couldn’t. You looked too damn peaceful.” He gets up and crawls into the hammock and pulls me into a snuggle under the blanket. “I’m sorry I was on the phone so long.”

  I cuddle into his arms and his clean scent. “It’s okay.”

  With a sigh, he looks out across the valley. “Tomorrow we have to fly separate ways.”

  I sit up. “What? Why?”

  West scrunches his face. “I’m sorry. Some last-minute promo thing. But I’ll be at the hotel with the rest of you all by tomorrow night.”

  “Oh, okay then.”

  He tugs me back down and hugs me close. “Eve I want you to know I’ve never brought a girl to this cabin before.”

  His quiet admission has me completely forgetting everything and focusing on him and me and a sweet longing for more of everything. He tucks t
he blanket around both of us and kisses my forehead. Months ago I would’ve never been able to lie here like this. But I love his arms around me. So strong. So intimate.

  “You okay?” I ask sometime later. “You’re so quiet. I’m not used to this side of you.”

  West trails his fingers down my arm, and it sends a shiver dancing after it. “Just thinking, that’s all.”

  “About?”

  “You and me. But mostly you. I really want to know you, all of you. Inside and out. But I don’t know if there’s anything I can be doing differently. Is there?”

  Everything inside me gentles. “You’re doing a great job.”

  “Sometimes it just doesn’t feel that way.”

  His confusion makes me wish I could be different than I am. “I’m doing the best I can,” I tell him.

  He nuzzles my cheek with his nose. “I know you are. I didn’t mean that you weren’t.”

  “Just don’t give up on me, okay?”

  He huffs a humorless laugh. “Deal. But you don’t give up on me, either.”

  I press my hand into his side and pull him closer. “I won’t. I never will.”

  West kisses me, soft and tender, like I’m the most cherished thing in his life. I swear every kiss from him seems better than the others. How is that even possible? He shifts a little, tucking me in even tighter, and I let out a boneless sigh as I simply relax into him.

  We continue laying in the hammock, and idly I stare at the yellow light illuminating the porch. If I could freeze this moment, I would.

  “I can’t wait to make love to you,” he whispers.

  “Me, too,” I whisper back. “West, can I ask you a question?”

  “Anything.”

  I lift my head so I can look him in the eyes, strengthened by the openness of our conversation. “How many girls have you had sex with?”

  His brows furrow. “Eve, I, uh—”

  “I’m sorry,” I immediately apologize, feeling foolish about my question. “That’s not my business.”