Hideaway
Page 26

Walking over to me, he stops, his legs hitting mine as he tips the bottle back, downing the rest of the drink. I watch the lump go up and down in his throat before he turns it over, stabbing the neck into the soil of the potted plant on the table.
He leans down, one hand planted on the wall above my head and the other one caressing my face. I rear back, but I have nowhere to go.
The beer on his breath hits my nose as he gets closer, and I feel a cool sweat break out on my neck. Is he going to kiss me?
His mouth hovers inches from mine, and he looks into my eyes. “Do you like snakes?”
Snakes? What?
I shake my head.
A spark of something flashes in his eyes, and he suddenly stands up, taking my hand. “Come on.”
He pulls me off the bench, and I stumble after him.
“No, wait,” I say. “I think I’m supposed to wait for my mom. I don’t want her to be mad.”
But he just keeps going, dragging me up the stairs, and I don’t fight. If I do, he might be mad, too. And if I make him mad, it could make my father madder.
He pulls me after him, his hold on my wrist making the skin burn a little as he rushes us around the bannister at the top of the stairs. Heading toward the end of the hall, he opens a door and pulls me through. I’m suddenly in darkness with only a small glow above. My heart is beating so hard I feel nauseous. Where are we?
The boy pulls me, and I follow, but my foot catches on something, and I stumble. I grab the back of his shirt to keep myself from falling, and I realize I’m on stairs. He continues up, and I grab the wall, trying to steady myself as I scale the steep incline. There’s a third floor to the house?
We come up to the top, and he opens another door, shoving me through. Chills spread down my skin, and I whimper under my breath, suddenly scared. What if my mom can’t find me? What if my father makes her leave, even without me? Why am I up here?
Will he let me leave?
I pull my sleeves down over my hands, fidgeting again, and glance around quickly. The messy room has a large, unmade bed, posters all over the walls, and some heavy metal song about wanting to “go to hell” playing on speakers I can’t see.
I inhale through my nose and catch the subtle odor of cigarettes.
As he heads over to his computer and turns down the music, I’m unable to stop the fear, but I also feel a sliver of admiration. Damon’s only supposed to be thirteen, and he’s drinking and smoking? He can do whatever he wants. Like an adult.
He turns around and crooks his finger at me, and despite how worried I am, I don’t dare refuse.
He takes my hand and leads me over to a long, wooden dresser, and I notice two fish tanks on top. One has sand with a large branch and a water pool, and in the other one there’s mulch with leaves and more branches. In the left one, I see a red, black, and yellow striped snake.
My heart skips a beat. That’s why he brought me up here.
“This is Volos,” he says. “And this is Kore.” He points out the white snake in the other tank, hidden inside a burrowed log. I look hesitantly, seeing the red splotches on its skin.
I glance at him out of the corner of my eye, worried that he’s going to remove them from their cages.
“Do they…bite?” I ask.
He looks down at me. “All animals bite when they’re provoked.”
I lean down, looking through the glass. Hopefully, if I show interest, he won’t want to try to scare me by taking them out.
Their tanks are large, lots of room to move, and they look clean. The snakes lie still.
“Wouldn’t they like to be together?”
“They’re not puppies,” he retorts. “They’re wild animals. They don’t play well with others, and they don’t like company. They don’t make friends.”
He removes the top of the cage on the left, and I immediately take a step back. No.
“If one of them gets aggravated or stressed,” he says, reaching in and picking up the red, black, and yellow one, “it’ll eat the other one.”
Damon pulls out both hands, the snake coiled through his fingers, and he turns to me, the snake inches from my body.
I scurry back, and he walks toward me, laughing. “How could you think I’m your brother? Look how scared you are.”
He shoves the snake in my face, and I scream, my back hitting the wall.
“No, I don’t like—”
“Shut your mouth,” he growls, grabbing for my hands with his free one.
I struggle, trying to get away from him, but his body pins me to the wall as he holds the snake with one hand and gets my wrists in a lock with the other. Pushing them over my head, he pins my hands to the wall, and I start tearing up, my chest filling with dread.
“No, no, please…”
“Shut up.”
I twist my head back and forth, squeezing my eyes shut as he holds me there.
“Do you know who I am?” he asks.
My breathing shakes, and I don’t want to open my eyes. Then, something touches my cheek, and I jerk.
“Stay still or he’ll bite.”
I pant, instantly stilling every muscle.
“Please,” I whisper, begging.
But I don’t move. The touch comes back, and it’s smooth, like water. Oh, God. Please.
“Look at me,” he says.
My lungs empty, and I hesitate. But slowly, I peel my eyes open.
I see a red, black, and yellow blur in front of me, and shake with a cry. He’s holding it to my face. I feel its tongue flit over my skin, and I start breathing fast, my chest racing up and down faster than my heart.
“Shhh…” Damon says soothingly.
I force myself to raise my eyes to him, and all of a sudden…my breathing starts to slow. He’s piercing me with his eyes—which I see now are more black than brown—and I’m locked in.
“Look at them out there,” he tells me, turning his head toward the window to my left.
I follow his gaze, slowly turning my head away from the snake to see men in black skulking on the lawn, two valets in white waistcoats, and a man and woman exiting a shiny black car.
“When I come on the scene, they all fucking look away,” he whispers, staring outside. “When I speak to them, their voices shake. They don’t even let their wives, girlfriends, or daughters come around if they know I’m home.”
I pinch my eyebrows together in confusion. Who’s he talking about? The servants? Or the guests?
“I know everything, everyone does what I want, and everyone is afraid of me,” he continues, and then turns his eyes on me, “and money doesn’t buy that. Money and power don’t go hand in hand. Power comes from having the guts to do what others won’t.”
He drags the snake’s body over my mouth, and I gasp, jerking away again.
“You’re nothing like me,” he snarls in a low voice. “A dirty, little nothing. A mistake.”
He releases me and steps back, and I quickly wipe away the tears that spilled over my lids.
He turns around and sits down in a deep, cushioned chair, petting his snake. “Don’t let your mom come back here again, you understand?” he orders, pinning me with a look. “Or I’ll lock you in a closet with Volos.”
I run for the door and grab the handle, but my hand shakes so hard I can’t turn it. “It’s not my fault,” I blurt out, turning my head toward him. “That my mom had me. Why would you want to hurt me?”
“You’re not special.” He raises Volos and looks at him, acting like I’m not even here. “There are lots of people I want to hurt. And maybe I will someday…when I figure out the best way to get rid of a body.”
He gives a half-grin, acting like he’s joking, but I’m not sure he is.
“I am special,” I say. “My teacher says I’m the smartest in my class.”
“Doesn’t matter.” He shrugs. “In five years, you’ll be riding dicks in the backseat for twenty dollars just like your mom.”
My stomach retches, and I nearly choke on a cough. What? How could he say something like that?
“Damon?” A voice rings out.
It’s coming from the speaker system on the wall, next to the door.