Sliver of Silver (Blushing Death) Read Online Free

passive aggressiveness that set my teeth on edge. In his mid-sixties with hair that was completely gray, he was a bit overweight but carried it like all older distinguished men do—well. The tight line of his jaw highlighted the deep lines at the corners of his dull blue eyes. He seemed tired and I wasn’t helping. His face flushed with his anger and he glared at me like he’d never seen me before. I suppose he hadn’t.
    When I’d started five years ago, I had been the model employee. I was early, stayed late, and went above and beyond what my duties were. Now, with the added responsibilities to Derek, Patrick, and the Pack, I was lucky to get into work on time. Let alone be pleasant. I wasn’t getting enough sleep and something in me just wasn’t right. I felt like I’d been burning the candles at both ends and I was quickly running out of wick.
    I wanted to add something, say something that would make him feel better and made me look better. The problem was, I had nothing to say. Everything he accused me of was right. My job had taken second, maybe even third priority and I’d let it.
    “What’s going on?” he asked, almost pleading with me to give him something to hold on to. Concern shown in his eyes as he sat, edging forward to the front of the chair. He probably thought I was on drugs or something. That would have been an easier way out. There was at least help for that.
    What do I tell him? I’m still upset that one of my boyfriends died and I’m having weird after effects from eating a piece of his heart. He’d think I was crazy or worse, mocking his concern. No one could take that statement seriously, not unless you’d been there.
    “I’m having some personal issues right now,” I murmured and even to me it sounded pathetic. I hoped to hell he’d accept that as an answer and move on.
    No such luck.
    “I know Danny’s death was hard on you,” he said with quiet distress. He didn’t like confronting people or dealing with other people’s emotions. This whole situation was hard for him, especially with me. I was the rock. There was nothing I could say to make this easier for him, or me.
    “Perhaps you should see someone,” he said, sounding strained.
    My eyes shot up at him, wide with shock and horror. The thought of therapists led my mind straight to electroshock and a remembrance of trauma from years ago. For a brief moment, I smelled the remembered scent of singed flesh and hair filling my nostrils. My heart pounded in my throat and I couldn’t stop swallowing, trying to force the lump down. Panic filled every cell of my body and my entire form went rigid in the chair.
    My parents had chosen electroshock therapy when I was sixteen. They didn’t believe that I actually saw spirits, ghouls, and ghosts so, in their minds, I had to be crazy. I still hadn’t forgiven them and they didn’t understand why.
    He watched my reaction with curious eyes and pursed thin lips. I told myself it was a long time ago, and couldn’t hurt me anymore. Once, twice, and three times, I repeated that mantra in my head until my heart slowed and the heat from my flushed face receded.
    I shoved everything into the black box buried deep that had saved me pain and suffering more than once. Since Danny’s death, that little black box had been opening and leaking out more and more. It was too full, too small for what I’d shoved in there. I gritted my teeth and slammed that box shut, closing off all emotions. Everything was easier that way.
    I opened my eyes, much calmer and much more pleasant than before, even if it was just a show.
    “I appreciate your concern,” I said with as much grace as I could force through gritted teeth, “but I would prefer to deal with this on my own.” I finished with a slight smile but I knew my eyes were still cold.
    “I appreciate your independence and your veracity,” he said with an equally pleasant smile. Then his eyes fell on me like lead. “But, Dahlia, we need someone here