Hideaway

  He looks up at me again, his eyes narrow, and I lift my chin, shrugging. “I’d find a freshly covered grave. That way they wouldn’t be able to tell it was re-dug. Put another body in there and cover it back up. That’s what I’d do.”

  And I pulled the door closed, slamming it shut on his dark stare.

  I exhaled, breathing hard but standing a little bit taller.

  God, he was a mess. And horrible and mean, and why did he lose it like that when whoever-that-was came on the intercom? For a moment, he looked so alone.

  He’s got everything. Why’s he so angry? I’m the one who should be angry. I’m the one who’s alone. A father who doesn’t care about me and a mother who hurts and makes me do things I don’t want to do.

  He doesn’t know what it’s like to suffer. To have something to be angry about.

  Minutes later, as my mother and I are shown the door—empty-handed, of course—I walk down the driveway, glancing behind me one last time. Damon stands at his bedroom window, watching us leave.

  The orange end of a cigarette burns brightly as he takes a drag, and I hold his stare for as long as I can, unable to look away.

  Not until a tree passes through my line of sight, and I lose him.

  I go home with the last image of him on that lonely third floor, the dark boy in that dark room, and I grow uneasy.

  He’s not okay.

  I dreamed about him that night.

  And eight days later, he shows up on my mother’s doorstep. He hands her nine thousand four hundred sixty-two dollars, a Rolex, and some emerald earrings.

  And he takes me home with him.

  I rested my arms on my bent-up knees, running my lips over my interlocked fingers as the memory leaves me. I was twelve then, and here we were, eleven years later, and here was where I’d stayed ever since. My father let me stay, because he rarely denied his son anything, but legal guardianship had been relinquished to Marina. Just so my father wouldn’t have the tedious task of taking me to the doctor when I was sick or answering to the police if I ever got into trouble.

  But I belonged to Damon Torrance.

  I didn’t know why he wanted me. Not at first. And I was scared bad things were going to happen to me.

  And they did.

  But he always took care of me. He scrounged up what he could get his hands on around the house to buy me from my mother, who, in a perfect world, would’ve loved to not do what she had done, but the money and the small prospect that I might actually have a better life here in Thunder Bay won out.

  Mostly, it was the money, though. Which was spent as easily as it was earned in no time at all. She tried to get me back several times over the years, maybe because she hated what she’d done, or maybe she just wanted to renegotiate for more cash, but Damon had what he wanted, and he wouldn’t even hear her out. Not when he was fifteen or seventeen or nineteen.

  Not that I wanted him to, anyway. It could be so strange how things happen. How the people you never suspect become you’re only lifeline, and you hold onto them as hard as you can, because you have no choice. There was nothing else to keep you from falling. Falling into loneliness or despair or fear. He reached for me, and I reached back.

  Within days of arriving, moving into my cubby in the tower and spending hours upon hours of being his shadow, I was captivated by him. I idolized him and wanted to be like him.

  We were our family.

  I looked over at the tanks, seeing Volos and Kore II basking under their heat lamps. Standing up, I walked over and removed the lid, gingerly picking up Volos and helping him curl around my hand. He should be dead already. Kore passed years ago, but Volos was hanging on. Perhaps for his master.

  He rested peacefully, not moving, and I ran my fingers down his scaly skin.

  After the first meeting with Damon, I’d researched his snakes on the Internet at the library and found out Volos was a milk snake and Kore was a corn snake. Both completely harmless, neither venomous.

  Although what Damon said was true.

  Every animal bites when it’s provoked.

  Banks

  Devil’s Night

  Six Years Ago

  “You stay with us,” David ordered, opening his car door. “You piss me off, and I’m dragging you home no matter what Damon says.”

  Yes, I know. You told me twice.

  We all left the SUV, Ilia and me climbing out of the back doors while David and Lev jumped out the front. The locks clicked behind us, and we headed down the hill, into the secluded section of the cemetery where the glow of the party was like a firefly in a pitch-black sky.

  After David and the guys had arrived at the Bell Tower earlier, they’d put me in the car, and we’d driven around the cemetery, through the main entrance.

  Puddle of Mudd filled the air, and I looked down at the party, slowing my steps, in awe of the sight. A sea of flames laid before us, hundreds of candles sitting on top of headstones, surrounding graves, and lining the perimeters of various tombs. The beautiful green lawn—black in the dark—appeared to be alive with shadows of the flames dancing across the grass.

  And farther off, in the distance, blazed the bonfire, so bold and bright I could hear it crackling from here.

  Someone took my hand.

  I looked to see Lev standing next to me, squeezing my limp fingers in his.

  I tried to pull away. “I’m not a baby,” I told him.

  I needed my hand held? Really?

  “Well, you’re getting into trouble like one,” he shot back. “Now, if you wanna get into trouble, I’m coming with you.”

  I couldn’t help but laugh a little. He really was my favorite. Probably because he wasn’t much older than me. Only a few years.

  Circling around him, I jumped up on his back, forcing him to release me as I wrapped my arms and legs around him. “Please…” I replied in his ear. “If I want to get into trouble, I only have to follow you.”

  He grunted, readjusting his stance with my added weight. “Get off me, wench.”

  “You don’t want to make me cry, do you?”

  He scoffed, grabbing me under the knees and hefting me up for a more secure hold. “I wouldn’t dream of it.”

  “Let’s get some drinks,” David called, leading us down to the party.

  Ilia lit a cigarette. “Yeah, let’s see what these rich little shits think is the ‘hard stuff’.”

  “Pull up your hood,” Lev told me.

  I followed directions, covering myself as we descended into the noise.

  Anticipation was making me giddy, but I didn’t know if I was excited to be “out” at a party, anxious that I would see Kai here, or nervous about Damon’s last words to me. What did he mean? What could possibly shock me after everything I’d seen growing up? I didn’t want anything to ruin Kai in my head.

  Yep, definitely nervous.

  Groups of people surrounded us, some of the girls turning their heads and following the guys with their eyes. Not a shocker. Not only did we look like we didn’t belong here in our less-than-fifty-dollar T-shirts and no-name shoes, but the guys were clearly thugs.

  David stood a little less than six feet with a stockier build, but it was the shaved head and full sleeves of tattoos which made him stand out.

  Ilia was the model. Or could’ve been, probably. Blond hair, bedroom eyes, sharp nose, narrow jaw—all of which made him look like a Russian James Bond.

  And Lev. Still very much a kid at twenty-one years old. Infectious smile, longer black hair, shaved on the sides, looking more like he belonged in a band than buried in Thunder Bay under mundane tasks a third grader could do.

  But they were attractive, I guess. Just not to me. I grew up hearing how they talked when they didn’t have to filter what they said and smelled their vomit after long nights of debauchery. Super hot.

  Yeah, no. They were like Damon. Like brothers.

  The guys stepped up to the bed of a truck with its tailgate down and a makeshift bar on display. I jumped down fr
om Lev’s back as David and Ilia grabbed cups and walked over to the keg, filling up. Lev took a bottle of Patrón and poured a shot in a red cup.

  I thought about asking for one, but he’d just say no. It wasn’t like I was a virgin to alcohol or anything. Damon liked having someone to run with when his friends weren’t around, so I’d had beer, wine coolers, mixed drinks...

  But never in public. They probably knew my brother wouldn’t like it.

  Looking behind him, I noticed David and Ilia still hanging around the keg, but another guy had come over and started up a conversation. They were smiling easily, looking relaxed. For once.

  “Walk me around?” I asked Lev.

  He raised his eyes, only briefly hesitating before he nodded. Shooting a look over his shoulder at David, he said, “We’re going to make the rounds. Be back.”

  David’s eyebrows dug in with a warning. “Don’t. Lose. Her.”

  I caught Lev’s eye roll as he nudged me along, getting us both out of there.

  Veering right, around the truck, I took us in the direction of the bonfire where I noticed a fight going on nearby. It looked playful, though, as people sat around watching. I cast glances left and right, looking for my brother.

  And Kai.

  But I didn’t see them. I knew they pulled pranks on Devil’s Night, so they could be off somewhere still. I kept my head down, though. At Damon’s request. I was to observe. Not interact.

  “You’re gonna be eighteen next summer,” Lev pointed out. “You getting out of here?”

  I shook my head, watching some kid shoot marshmallows with a hockey stick, hitting a group of guys. “I wouldn’t know where to go.”

  “But you can, you know?” he told me. “You can do whatever you want. You don’t have to stay with him.”

  I turned my eyes on him, narrowing my gaze. It was unusually gutsy of him to say something like that. Since when did he care what I did?

  And I didn’t know how to respond.

  It wasn’t as if I hadn’t thought about it. I knew things would change soon, but I didn’t think they were changing for good. I’d tread water until Damon got out of college, and then…like he said, we’d be on our own. The idea of leaving forever—of living by myself, working by myself, making my own friends, coming and going without consequence—it seemed too far-fetched to consider. Even if I wanted to—which I didn’t—Damon wouldn’t allow it.

  I averted my eyes, dropping my voice. “He’s all I have.”

  “And who told you that?” he tossed back. “Him?”

  I shot him a look. Asshole.

  I changed the subject. “Toward the fight?” I gestured toward the group of guys in the distance, and he nodded.

  We walked through more headstones, and I could hear the chanting from the fight ahead. I

  was used to seeing tussles, the guys around the house constantly starting shit with each other when they were bored. I’d even picked up a few moves.

  “Who’s she?” I heard a woman ask.

  Stopping with Lev, I looked up to see a young redhead, her arms crossed over her chest and looking at him like she was two seconds away from spitting battery acid.

  But without waiting for him to respond, she spun on her heel and started to walk away.

  “Come here,” he said, grabbing her arm.

  But she yanked it away. “Go screw yourself.”

  “Until when?” he shot back, getting in her face. “The next time your boyfriend can’t get you off, princess, and you come begging me for it?”

  My eyes widened. He was screwing around with a Thunder Bay girl? What was he thinking?

  To her, this was slumming and getting her kicks. He had to know that.

  The girl jutted her chin over me, scowling. “Who is she?”

  “It doesn’t matter.”

  She whipped around and stalked away from him, her red hair flying.

  He looked at me. “Stay there. I mean it.”

  I watched as he spun around and caught up to her, forcing her behind a tomb, the edges of their bodies just visible.

  “Where is he?” Lev asked, and I watched her thigh hike up around his waist at the same time I heard the sound of fabric tearing.

  He? Her boyfriend?

  Heavy breathing, fingers up her skirt, and…yeah, that’s all I needed to see. I didn’t know what was happening there, and I didn’t care. I turned around, leaving them to it.

  Pulling my hood lower and covering my eyes, I headed toward the fight, hearing cheers break out and seeing a body hit the ground. I peered through the gaps in the crowd, watching as a dark-haired fighter straddled him, and he raised his head just enough for me to see his face.

  My heart leapt into my throat. Kai.

  His hair was wet with sweat, and I noticed a trickle of blood spilling out of his nose. They continued the bout, rolling, punching, and wrestling, and I stopped behind a tall grave marker, hiding myself and peeking around the edge.

  Kai rolled onto his back, holding the kid’s neck above him, his arms flexed and every muscle defined as he kept the other guy at arm’s length. Abs tight and jeans having settled low on his waist in the struggle, he made my cheeks go warm.

  My brother’s friend was hot. Why did I have to want him?

  Damon might eventually resign himself to me falling in love someday, but he wouldn’t tolerate it being his best friend.

  I smiled to myself, watching how he looked so happy right now. Not that I’d seen him a lot, but I didn’t think I’d ever seen such an easy expression on his face before. Like he was finally alive.

  I could watch him all night.

  Until I smelled the all-too-familiar scent of my brother’s cigarettes. Turning my head, I watched him blow out a stream of smoke, drop the butt to the ground, and stomp it out. He walked up and stood behind me, leaning his arm on the tombstone.

  “So, this is what you wanted me to see?” I asked him, both of us watching Kai pummel his opponent. “It takes a lot to shock us, remember?”

  “Not this.” He shook his head. “Just wait.”

  I turned my gaze back, waiting for the big mystery about Kai Mori to reveal itself. I couldn’t imagine what Damon thought would be so shocking. I was hard to impress.

  He let out a sigh at my side, looking around. “They left you alone again. I’m really going to kill someone one of these days.”

  I smiled, even though I felt sorry for the guys who were supposed to watch me. It was a shit job, and they were built for more.

  “You’re not that merciful.” I glanced at him, my gaze immediately dropping to the corner of his mouth. “And you have mustard on your lip. And your breath stinks.”

  He opened his mouth and huffed right in my face, the stench of cigarettes and hot dogs—or whatever he’d just eaten—assaulting my nostrils.

  I winced and turned away.

  “Last girl didn’t care,” he taunted playfully. “Of course, I wasn’t kissing her lips. Not the ones on her face anyway.”

  And he proceeded to hook an arm around my neck and lick my cheek like a sloppy dog.

  “Gross!” I snarled, pushing him away and wiping off my face. “Jesus.”

  He just shook with laughter.

  “Yeah, that’s all I need, some girl’s ‘juice’ all over me. Thanks.”

  He ruffled my hair through my hoodie, still laughing. Of course, his damn delight in life came from fucking with everyone around him, and I wasn’t excluded from that. Ever.

  I calmed down and turned back to the fight, watching as Kai took a hit across the left side of his jaw. He returned with a right hook and shoved his opponent in the chest. Wet strands of the kid’s brown hair hung in his eyes, but he must’ve seen Kai coming for him, because he shot out his hands, waving for Kai to stop as he hunched over, trying to catch his breath.

  Kai turned around, facing us, and I saw the smile on his face. My blood warmed.

  Everyone cheered as the other guy tapped out, ending the fight with Kai as the winner.
I kept my smile small, but I couldn’t hold it in entirely. He was good. Better than good. He probably could’ve ended the fight a lot earlier.

  I watched him grab his shirt off the ground and wipe his face and body with it as he breathed hard.

  And then I watched as he tucked the end of it into his back pocket, while a blonde grabbed hold of his belt and pulled him to her. My smile fell.

  She looked at him with a coy smile, while his expression softened as he went to her, placing his hands on her waist and looking down at her.

  What—

  “That’s Chloe,” my brother said, his tone expressionless. “His girlfriend.”

  My chest started to rise and fall heavier and heavier, and a burn hit my eyes. He didn’t have a girlfriend. I mean, he did. I’d seen him with girls, but…

  No. He wouldn’t have cornered me in the Bell Tower, he wouldn’t have confessed all those things he’d done, if he had a girlfriend. Kai wasn’t like that. He wasn’t…Damon.

  Kai’s hands drifted around to her ass as she ran her lips along his jaw. She looked like she was whispering things, because he responded with a laugh or a grin.

  I dropped my eyes, knowing I had no right to be mad. He wasn’t mine.

  I just thought he was different.

  And yes, I was a little jealous.

  “He’s always in the mood after he’s gotten excited,” Damon explained. “A fight, a car race, watching…”

  Or a chase, I finished in my head, remembering all that had happened today and how what my brother said made complete sense. Kai liked foreplay.

  “And she’s always there for him,” Damon continued at my side, watching the couple in the distance. “Besides us, she’s one of his best friends. State champion in tennis, captain of the math team, works on the school paper, and competes with the Chess Club…everything Kai’s father wants for him. A girlfriend to be proud of.” He placed a hand on my arm, gently squeezing it as I watched Kai and his girlfriend.

  My brother went on. “Someone with opportunities, ambition, and drive. And speaking from someone who spotted them on a picnic table last summer when we all went camping up the coast, she’s looks like a good little fuck, too.”