Silent Scars (Surviving #4) by Ada Frost Read Free Book Online

these?”
    “That shelf on the back wall contains my unread books.” I tracked his line of vision and tried to see it from his point of view. “Would you...” I paused, suddenly self-conscious.
    “What?”
    “I haven’t shown you my favourite room yet.” My voice trembled with excitement.
    “Lead the way.” He faced me and motioned to walk ahead of him.

I closed the door quietly behind me and watched as she practically skipped across the floor. Her hair was still precariously holding in that bun type knot, but with each giddy step, more hair worked its way loose. She had the blackest hair I had ever seen. It was more prominent because her skin was so pale. She clapped her hands in front of her, face with the brightest smile. She walked back through the lounge and into the kitchen to a door nestled into the wall I mistook it for wooden cladding.
    “I never noticed this here.” I was a little annoyed I hadn’t. I yanked my cap down when she regarded me too long. I wasn’t sure if the thing rose up. Didn’t want to freak her out.
    “It was designed that way. From the front entrance you don’t realise this part of the house exists. Because it bends in an ‘L’ shape to the back, when you walk in you just see this.” She motioned to the long gallery of a room. “But in here is my special little annex. It isn’t as fancy as Dad’s but still.”
    She opened the door and flicked on a light. Bouncing on the balls of her feet, she held her hands in front of her. My lips twitched, and I fought against the smile wanting to break out. She had an innocence about her that both terrified me and intrigued me. I forced my eyes away and glanced around the room. It was simple, three white walls and one running the entire length was windows. There was a black piano in the corner and behind that a bookshelf with rows upon rows of CD cases. In each corner of the room was a small speaker. It was a rather large room to house one piano.
    “It’s a music room.”
    “Yeah,” she said, glancing around like she just uncovered the lost city of Atlantis. “It isn’t sound proofed like Dad’s, but I won’t play too late.”
    “Your house, sweetheart, I’m a ghost remember.” I snorted.
    “Please, stop saying that. It’s like you’re saying you don’t exist in the world.”
    “Sometimes I don’t believe I do.” What the fuck? I straightened my spine, pulled my shoulders back, and prepared for the barrage of questions. Women liked that mushy shit, delving into your inner thoughts, playing with your emotions.
    “Hmm.”She huffed and turned away, heading to her piano, and  slowly caressed the keys. It was an oddly intimate moment.
    I stopped myself from asking what that little noise meant, but that would invite more questions I would refuse to answer. “I don’t want anyone inside my head, Aloura. Ever” I stepped towards her. She held my gaze, silently probing me. I could see curiosity fighting her. But her lips remained tightly shut. She bobbed her head, those doe eyes reflected a little sadness. But she blinked, and in an instant it was gone.
    “Are you,” I said, lifting my hand and pointed at her piano. “Are you any good?”
    Her dainty shoulders lifted shyly. “It’s more for show.”
    “Would you play something?” Seemed like the gentlemanly thing to ask I guess.
    Her fingers snapped away from the keys as if she’d been electrocuted. She blinked at me and fisted her hands beside her.
    “I don’t play well...it’s for personal...” Her tiny hands balled into fists. “I never play for people.”
    I stared at her for a moment, her pale cheeks coloured with a rosy hue of embarrassment. I shrugged my shoulders and turned to leave the room. It didn’t matter to me if she played or not. I was nothing more than an employee.
    ***
     
    “How do you think it went?” Will asked from beside me. I heard the nervous twitch in his voice over the rumble of the truck engine.
    “Pretty well, I’d