Hideaway (Devil's Night 2)

Gazing around the room, I took in the pristine floors, the dark walls and gold sconces, the black and white photos he’d hung up in high school…. Women and legs and glowing skin, not distasteful really but sex, nonetheless.

I didn’t like looking at them.

And then, raising my eyes, I looked toward another small set of stairs in the corner of the room. Shrouded in shadow, the flight led to the “tower” as we called it, a small alcove with an even smaller landing at the top. It was surrounded by windows, almost like a lighthouse up there, where you could see over the trees outside for miles. That was my space. When I lived here.

It still housed my mattress, a lamp, and a few clothes, just in case I ever needed it again. Not that I ever used it much anyway, even when I lived here. Damon kept me close.

I walked toward the window again, and planted myself against the wall next to the window, sliding down it until I rested on the floor. Taking my hair, I wound it around and around like a rope and twisted it up on top of my head before pulling out my hat and covering my hair again.

I let my shoulders finally fall, and I closed my eyes, safe in the knowledge that no one could see me right now.

Not that I was seen much, anyway.

But I did like to watch other people. Kind of like Kai did.

A long time ago, I watched him from a distance, part of me wanting him so much. I thought he was good.

Loyal. Beautiful.

But he could be scarier than Damon.

And my brother, Damon Torrance, had been a nightmare since the first time I met him. An exquisite nightmare.

“Pull up your sock,” my mom orders as she slams the passenger side door.

I bend over and pull up my dingy knee-high, both of us standing next to our car parked outside a big, black gate. It’s open, and cars have been streaming in steadily. Mom said there was a party going on today. It was a good time to see him.

“Remember what I told you.” She pulls me up, buttoning the top button of my cardigan and straightening my blouse underneath. I look away, impatient. I’m twelve, and she has me dressed like a five-year-old.

“If he starts being mean,” she continues, her voice shaking as much as her hands, “you need to help me, okay? Tell him we need money. If we don’t get help, Nik, you’re going to have to leave the apartment, your bedroom, and all your stuff. You’ll be sleeping in strangers’ houses. And they could take you away from me.” She grasps my shoulders, breathing hard. “You want to go home tonight, right?”

I nod.

“Then smile pretty,” Jake, her boyfriend, yells out at me from the driver’s seat through the open window.

Yeah, smile pretty. Be nice to someone who’s never been nice to me. Who’s never wanted to meet me. My stomach keeps churning, and I can’t fist my fingers. I feel weak.

“Hurry up, Luce,” he says to my mom.

I know why he wants us to hurry up and what he wanted money for. Both of them. Of course, if we were lucky enough to get anything, I’d get fed and maybe some used clothes and shoes. My socks were so old they didn’t fit right, and I’d been washing my hair with bar soap for a month now.

But they’ll just party with the rest. Every time we have any money, it’s gone before we’ve had a chance to exhale.

My mother takes my hand, and I follow her through the gates and down the long driveway. Looking around, my heart instantly aches. It’s so beautiful here. Acres of green on both sides of the black drive, trees and bushes and the smell of flowers…God, what would it be like to just go out there and run? To do cartwheels and climb the red oaks and have picnics in the rain?

Looking ahead, I spot the house, the white stone stunning against the blue sky. Cars circle the driveway, and splashes of red lie around the house, which I guess must be rose bushes, though I’m not yet close enough to see.

But the closer we get, the more unnerved I become. I want to dig in my heels and stop. I want to turn around and say, “I’ll rip off food from the Shop-and-Go down the street from our apartment if I have to.” I’ve done it before. We needed milk and cereal, and my mom asked me to get it. If I got caught shoplifting, as a minor I wouldn’t get in as much trouble as she would.

We head up to the house, and she stops me just before we get to the door. She squats down, her long coat the only nice thing she has to cover up her cheap clothes.

She holds my shoulders and looks up at me, her eyes sad. “I’m sorry,” she says. “These are things kids shouldn’t have to go through. I know that.” She looks around, tearing up and looking desperate. “I wish you knew how much I want you to have everything. You deserve everything, you know that, right?”

I just stare at her, my eyes starting to water. My mom is a mess, she doesn’t always put me first, and I hate the positions I’m put in sometimes, but…I know she loves me. Not that it always feels like enough, but I know she tries.

“I wish I could take you away and buy us a house like this,” she says wistfully, “and all you would ever do is smile.” She stands up, brushing the wrinkles out of her coat. “It kills me that his little shit of a son gets everything he wants and you get nothing.”

Damon. My father’s son. The only child he claimed.