Hidden Dangerous 2

After walking for about ten minutes, Duke, Ashley, and Jennifer finally arrived back home. Jennifer reached the front door, pulled her keys from the lower right pocket of her light blue denim jacket, and slid the key into the lock, opening the door.

As they entered, Duke and Ashley hung their jackets on the coat hanger when a sudden scream pierced the quiet.

"ALEX!"

Both Duke and Ashley rushed into the living room where Jennifer's scream had come from. There, they found her holding Alex's trembling body, pulling him into a tight embrace, pressing his head gently against her chest in an attempt to comfort him. Despite her efforts, Alex's body continued to shake, and Jennifer's own body began to quiver as well.

Ashley, seeing her little brother in such distress, quickly sat down on the couch beside him. She raised her left hand and began to rub his back gently, softly humming a lullaby. It was one she and their mother would sing to Alex when he'd had nightmares or during his meltdowns.

As Ashley's soothing voice filled the living room with a comforting melody, she sang with a tenderness that could make anyone feel safe and protected, like being in a mother's embrace. Gradually, the intensity of Alex's shaking began to lessen. Seeing this, Jennifer joined in, adding her voice to Ashley's. Though not quite as practiced, Jennifer's singing was still warm and heartfelt, adding depth to the melody.

Together, the sisters created a harmonious lullaby that wrapped the room in peace, calming Alex even further with each note.

Duke, initially frozen in concern, felt his own heartbeat steady as the girls' voices filled the air. Realizing that Alex's condition was stabilizing, he quickly headed to the kitchen. He opened the lower cupboard drawer and pulled out a black Motorola MicroTAC phone.

Alex had strongly recommended that the family purchase these phones when they first hit the market. Although he knew his parents wouldn't agree to buy one for each child, he negotiated for three, finally convincing them after two months. At $3,000 apiece, the three phones had been a significant investment for his parents. Just the thought of purchasing six would have been nearly unimaginable.

Holding the phone, Duke felt reassured, prepared to call for help if needed, but he stayed close, letting the girls' lullaby carry Alex further into calm.

His parents had bought three phones—two for themselves and one for the children to share. Alex hadn't requested such an expensive phone simply for personal use; he had a deeper motive. He wanted to learn about its internal layout and how it processed data, knowledge he knew would be useful for his future plans.

Duke quickly dialed his father's cell number, then held the phone to his ear, waiting for him to pick up.

Meanwhile, Alex's parents were strolling out of the park, heading toward the parking lot where they'd left their car. As they settled inside, they heard a phone ringing from the glove compartment. Oliver opened it, retrieved the phone, and calmly answered.

"Hello, Oliver Williams speaking," he said.

"Yes, Father, it's Duke. When are you and Mother coming home?" Duke asked, his voice tinged with hesitation.

Oliver picked up on the unease in his son's voice and frowned. "We're actually on our way home now. Is everything alright?" he asked, waiting several seconds for a reply.

On the other end, Duke glanced at the scene in the living room. "Yes, we just wanted to check up on you both. Drive back safe now. Bye," Duke said, quickly ending the call.

Oliver frowned as he closed the phone, sliding it into his right pocket. Martha noticed his troubled expression and grew concerned about how abruptly the call had ended.

"Oliver, is everything alright?" she asked.

"I'm not quite sure, but we'll find out when we get home," he replied, starting the car and driving out of the parking lot, steady and calm.

Back at the house, after a few more minutes, Alex's shaking subsided, and he let out a long, relieved sigh as his heartbeat slowed. He gradually sat up, moving his face away from Jennifer's embrace, his body finally at ease.

Jennifer and Ashley stopped singing, though the worry in their hearts lingered.

"Alexander, are you alright?" Jennifer asked, her face etched with concern. Alex noticed that she'd used his full name—a sign of deep concern or anger within his family.

Seeing the worried expressions in all three siblings' eyes, Alex felt a pang of guilt. These were the same worried looks they had worn during his years of struggling with autism and after his accident, which had given him a second chance. He had vowed not to make them worry like that again.

"I feel much better now, thanks to all of you," Alex said, appreciating how each of them had played a part. Though Ashley and Jennifer had done most of the comforting, Duke had also stood by, holding the phone ready to make a call if necessary.

Hearing Alex speak smoothly and clearly, the siblings shared a sense of relief; they'd feared he might have reverted to his previous state. His uncontrollable shaking under stress had worried them, but thanks to their quick response, they'd been able to help.

Jennifer, still concerned, asked what had caused the episode. The other two leaned in, eager for answers. Alex, understanding their concern, explained everything.

"So, that was the reason. But why now? It's not like we haven't left you alone before. We've even gone out with you before," Ashley said, puzzled.

"Yes, that's true," Alex replied. "But I haven't left the house on my own since the accident. Someone I know has always come along with me."

"Yeah, but what about school? It's not like any of us are in the same class as you, so why did it only happen now?" added Jennifer, as the other two nodded in agreement.

"I'm not sure either," replied Alex, thoughtful. "Maybe it has to do with the fact I left the house by myself, like when I sneak out. And it's not as if I haven't gone to school before my accident."

He explained that he used to attend a school for kids with special needs, which unfortunately burned down due to an incident caused by one of the students. Although no one died, a few children and teachers suffered burns. That fire was why his parents decided he should be homeschooled for a while.

Looking at his siblings, Alex said, "Let's keep this between us for now."

After a brief, shared glance, they nodded reluctantly. Their parents had always been under stress supporting the family and looking after Alex, which had strained their relationship. They hardly spent any time alone together, and, over the years, things between them had grown stale. Recently, however, as Alex's condition improved, they'd started rekindling their romance. The siblings knew of other families that had fallen apart under similar strains, and they didn't want to risk the same for their own.

After driving for about ten minutes, Martha and Oliver finally parked their old Land Cruiser in front of the house. As they stepped out, Oliver double-checked the door to ensure it was locked, while Martha hurried up the steps, entering the house and heading quickly toward the living room. When she saw her children gathered around a board game, laughing and chatting, a wave of relief washed over her.

As they noticed their mother, the children greeted her warmly. "How was the day, Mom? Hope your date went well with Dad!" Alex teased.

Martha blushed, gently scolding him in response. "It wasn't a date; we just went for a jog in the par—"

Before she could finish, Oliver walked in, giving his children a once-over and glancing around the room to check that nothing was out of place. He couldn't shake the feeling that Duke's nervous tone on the phone meant something had happened.

Seeing everything in order, he nodded approvingly at his children, though his quiet demeanor didn't disguise his curiosity. Oliver was a man of few words, often silent but observant, his steady gaze conveying a depth of experience and an unspoken strength.

"Duke, why did you sound nervous over the phone?" Oliver asked, his deep voice filling the room as his emerald-green eyes seemed to pierce each of them.

Martha, catching on, also looked intently at her children, her expression fierce, almost protective. The combined intensity of their parents' gazes felt overwhelming, like an invisible weight pressing down on them—one cold and steady, the other warm but intense.

"I was the one who called Father, so I'll..." Duke started, unable to bear the weight of his parents' intense gazes. But as he felt their eyes lock onto him, his voice trailed off. Oliver, sensing hesitation, asked calmly, though his words seemed to cool the room's temperature.

"Why did you hang up so suddenly? Your voice sounded nervous at the time."

Despite the subtle pressure, Duke kept his face steady, deciding to remain silent. Oliver and Martha exchanged glances and, seeing that Duke wasn't willing to answer, decided to let the matter drop for now, their expressions softening slightly.

"Alright, since none of you seem hurt, we'll leave it at that for the moment," Oliver said in a firm tone. "But if something like this happens again, there will be consequences. Understood?"

The siblings nodded, relieved as Oliver turned and headed upstairs. Martha, still curious, stayed behind to chat with them about their day. Meanwhile, Oliver entered the bedroom, pulling off his gray hoodie, still slightly damp from their jog, along with the white T-shirt beneath. His broad shoulders, defined chest, and chiseled abs hinted at years of dedication, lending him a statuesque, masculine presence.

After stripping off his sweaty clothes, he went to the bathroom, filled the tub with warm water, and settled in, closing his eyes to rest. Time slipped by until, about ten minutes later, a knock sounded on the door.

"Oliver? Are you still in there? I need to use the bathroom!" Martha called, sounding a bit irritated. With only one bathroom in the house, they'd learned to share it, though Oliver, deep in his own thoughts, hadn't heard her. Not receiving an answer, Martha decided to go in, wrapping a towel around herself and carefully locking the door behind her.

Seeing the tub curtain drawn, Martha assumed he'd fallen asleep, so she quietly let her towel drop, revealing her toned figure, a testament to her and Oliver's commitment to staying fit. She reached for the curtain, pulling it back gently, only to see Oliver's eyes snap open.

"Ahhh!" she yelped, startled by his sudden movement and taking a step back, slipping slightly on the wet floor. But Oliver reacted swiftly, catching her hand and pulling her close, and they both tumbled back into the tub, water splashing over the edge.

"Are you alright?" Oliver asked, holding her protectively. "I didn't hear you come in. I'm so sorry if I startled you." He looked into her eyes, genuine concern on his face, as her laughter filled the steamy room, their worries momentarily forgotten.

"It's okay, I'm not hurt anywhere, so don't worry," Martha said, quickly moving to the other side of the tub and instinctively covering her chest. Despite being husband and wife, this was the first time in eight years that they had seen each other fully nude. Ever since Alex's autism diagnosis, their intimacy had dwindled, eventually coming to a complete halt. This surprise encounter had them both feeling unexpectedly shy.

But Martha couldn't help stealing glances at Oliver's physique, momentarily captivated. Oliver, too, was silently marveling at her, his heart beating faster as long-suppressed feelings stirred.

After a few lingering moments of gazing at each other, Oliver finally broke the silence, a rare trace of unease in his voice. "Are you going to keep wearing that scarf in the tub?"

"Oh! I always forget to take it off before getting in," Martha replied, removing the scarf to reveal a delicate tattoo of roses encircling her neck. Seeing her tattoo, which she usually kept hidden, rekindled a passion in Oliver's gaze that he couldn't quite mask.

Martha, noticing his stare, nervously moved her hand to cover the tattoo. Sensing the tension building, Oliver decided it was time to leave the tub, even though he hadn't fully finished his bath.

"Umm… could you turn away for a second?" he asked shyly, a slight blush creeping across his face.

Martha chuckled, amused by his rare embarrassment, though she turned away as requested. After all, his physique was having an effect on her, too—she wasn't as composed as she looked. As she turned, Oliver stepped out of the tub and quickly wrapped a towel around himself, unaware that his silhouette was still somewhat visible through the curtain.

"Was he… always that big?" Martha mumbled to herself, eyes wide with surprise.

A few minutes later, the Williams family gathered at the dining table. An awkward silence hung in the air as everyone focused on their plates, avoiding eye contact. Dinner was a balanced meal of white rice, steamed vegetables, and thinly sliced, well-seasoned chicken. Martha took pride in her cooking and always paid close attention to the family's nutrition, a thoughtful contrast to the fried, vegetable-free meals common in many families.

As the children quietly ate, Martha and Oliver occasionally exchanged quick, shy glances, which didn't go unnoticed by their observant kids. Alex was the first to finish, placing his fork down before addressing his parents.

"I'm done. May I please be excused from the table?" he asked, looking to Oliver for approval.

Oliver glanced at his son's empty plate and nodded. "You may leave. Make sure to wash all the dishes in the sink, as well."

Unlike in some families where the mother was expected to do all the cleaning, each of the children in the Williams family took turns with chores, something Oliver had always insisted on.

Alex only needed to wash his plate and the pots used to prepare the meal, as each of his siblings would wash their own plates. After receiving his father's permission to leave, he took his plate and walked to the kitchen to clean it, along with the other cooking utensils and dishes.

Once Alex finished washing his plate and the cooking tools, he quickly left the kitchen just as his siblings entered, each carrying their own plates.

As he walked upstairs, Alex glanced at his parents, who were seated at opposite ends of the table. They occasionally exchanged looks but remained silent.

Reaching his room, Alex stripped off the clothes he had changed into earlier; his previous outfit had become wet and smelly after his incident that afternoon. He then lay down under his bunk bed, wearing his red Spider-Man underwear. Most of Alex's clothes were superhero-themed or brightly designed, reflecting his childhood tastes. Fortunately, Duke had given him some stylish clothes that he had outgrown.

"Huhhhh!!!" Alex let out a loud sigh, feeling the weight of having to pretend he was fine all day. His parents, with their keen observational skills, had privately questioned him about his unease. Keeping secrets from them wasn't easy, but he didn't plan to hide his situation forever.

He decided to wait until his parents' relationship improved. Over the years, he had noticed it had become rather dull, almost mechanical. However, during dinner, he sensed a change; sparks seemed to fly between them, like two teenagers with a crush who didn't know how to express their feelings.

"Huhh! This is for the best for now," Alex said to himself as he slowly closed his tired eyes, drifting off to sleep while pulling the covers around him. He didn't notice Duke entering the room, taking off his clothes, and placing his round glasses on the nightstand before climbing into the bunk bed and falling asleep in his underwear.

Both Alex and Duke preferred sleeping in their underwear, even though their mother had bought them matching pajamas for bed.

Meanwhile, their two older sisters were also getting ready for sleep, each in different colored pajamas. Jennifer wore a light pink set with white spots, while Ashley opted for a white set adorned with black dots. Unlike Alex and Duke, who shared a bunk bed, the sisters slept in separate beds.

While the younger boys were already fast asleep, Martha and Oliver lay awake in their single beds, backs turned to each other. The events from the bathroom lingered in their minds, making it difficult to fall asleep.

"Oliver, honey, are you still up?" Martha asked softly.

"Yes, I'm still up," Oliver replied, trying to turn his head to look at her.

With her back still turned, Martha asked, "Do you remember the last time we...?"

Oliver, already aware of what Martha meant by "when we did it," couldn't help but ask for clarification. "What do you mean by that?" he asked, just to be sure.

Martha turned her body toward him, moving closer and pressing against his back. Feeling her warmth against him, Oliver's body responded instinctively, and Martha couldn't help but smile to herself, feeling a sense of pride at how her husband still reacted to her touch.

Leaning in, she whispered softly into his ear, "Don't pretend you don't know exactly what I mean, Oliver."

With a playful bite on his ear, she let her hand slide under his gray T-shirt, gently exploring the contours of his well-defined abs. As her fingers moved over his skin, Oliver felt a rush of warmth. Martha's touch ignited something within him that he couldn't ignore.

As she kissed his neck, she wrapped her leg around him, moving it slowly, while her hands continued to explore his back. Oliver's heart raced as he felt the heat between them grow.

He finally turned to face her, noticing the flush on her cheeks as she took slow, deep breaths, equally affected by their closeness.

In that moment, their eyes locked, and the world around them faded away. Slowly, they leaned in, their lips meeting in a tender kiss that deepened as they explored each other's mouths, their hands moving gently over each other's bodies.

Martha chuckled softly at his response, the warmth of the moment making her heart flutter. After a few seconds, she finally replied in a gentle voice, "It's okay. It's a safe day for me, so we don't need one."

Her words hung in the air, and Oliver felt a mix of relief and excitement. The atmosphere between them shifted, charged with unspoken understanding. He looked at her, his eyes sparkling with mischief, and couldn't help but flash an impish yet charming smile.

"Really? That sounds like an invitation," he teased, his tone light but laced with genuine affection.

Martha met his gaze, her cheeks flushing slightly as she felt the playful tension rise. "Well, it is," she said, her voice barely above a whisper, filled with a blend of shyness and eagerness.

Oliver leaned in closer, his smile deepening as he sensed her anticipation. "In that case," he murmured, "I think we should make the most of this moment."

Martha's heart raced at his words, a mix of thrill and tenderness washing over her as they both leaned in, the world outside their room fading into the background.