Hideaway (Devil's Night 2)

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 your 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.