Chapter 25

**Trigger Warning: Domestic Abuse**

"Let's play hide and seek mommy!" The small dark-haired boy with wide eyes pulls on his mother's arm, trying to get her attention. She looks down at him, love radiating from every pore, every gentle crease, and ruffles his soft curls before standing up.

"Okay, sweetie. You hide and I'll count." She covers her face in her hands entirely, shouting numbers to initiate the game.

He takes off, zooming through the lower level of the giant living space. When he can't find a suitable spot, he moves on to the next level of the home. He starts in the center of the hall, moving down the left wing until he comes upon the study. He grins, quickly opening and then closing the door behind him.

Floor-to-ceiling shelves line the walls of the dimly lit room. There is a large window on the wall opposite the door where there are a few cabinets above and below. An executive desk rests a few feet before the window. Between them is an enormous brown leather office chair. Sometimes the boy will sit in the chair and mimic his father, but last time he got caught and lost park privileges for a week, so he decides against playing in it today. He doesn't have time anyway, his mom will be around looking for him very soon.

Hearing the doorknob jiggle, he dashes into one of the cabinets below the window, making almost no noise at all. He holds his breath, not wanting to give himself away. 'She's never going to find me in here,' he beams, proud of his hiding capabilities.

The door opens and then shuts abruptly. The ceiling lights flicker on and a depressed sigh escapes the old desk chair. He hears some papers shuffling, and some drawers opening and closing, but no movements are made to open any of the cabinets. He hears that same depressed sigh from the chair, signaling that the occupant has risen. The boy can't believe he is going to win this time.

Instead of leaving the room, the figure slams their hands down onto the thick wooden top of the desk. A loud thud echoes throughout the previously silent space. The figure repeats this action a second and a third time before the yelling starts. Fearful, but determined to stay hidden, the boy covers his ears and bites his tongue.

"That fucking bitch, what did she do with the checkbook." This time, instead of a thud, a bitter voice booms through the room. "I swear to fucking god I'm going to kill her."

The door opens and closes again. The boy uncovers his ears, contemplating whether he should come out from his hiding spot now, wondering if he is safe yet. Before he can make that decision he hears a different voice, a meek voice that was once strong and confident but has long lost the ability to keep fighting.

"What's wrong dear? and could you keep quiet? I don't want Nikky to hear. He's just a boy." The voice wavers slightly, full of some kind of emotion that the boy can't quite place.

"I don't give two fucks about the god damn kid. What did you do with the checkbook woman?" The boy imagines venom spewing from the hateful voice, like an angry viper, ready to strike its prey.

"Honey, just please calm dow-" and strike it does. A sob tears through the throat of the victim immediately upon contact.

"Quit whining and just tell me where it is!" More venom, more hatred.

"I-I burned it. It's not here anymore," the feminine voice squeaks.

"What the hell? Why would you do that to my money?" A second strike. The viper is ruthless.

"Hah, your money? It's my bank account. My work earned that money. It's not yours to do with what you please."

"It's my fucking right to do what I want with that money. You are mine so it's mine too." Another sob, this time muffled by something. The viper wraps itself around its prey now, strangling her. He's hurting her. He's killing her. And just like that, the viper throws her to the floor, losing interest and slithering away.

She's gasping for air and choking back tears. The boy throws open the cabinet doors when the monster is no longer there. He runs to his mom, embracing her, hiding his shame against her torso. He feels so cowardly for not being able to stand up to that snake, but he's just a kid. He doesn't have any power.

After the initial shock of being hugged by her son passes, the woman quickly stands to her feet, adjusts her clothing, fixes her hair, and pats some color back into her cheeks. She covers the angry red skin of her neck with her hand. "It's so chilly in here. Sorry if I scared you, sweetie. Mommy's alright. She just fell."

"But you didn't. You didn't fall." The boy argues.

"Yes, I did. I just fell. That's all that happened, okay?"

"But he-"

"That's all that happened, okay?" The pleading look in her eyes tells him all he needs to know. This conversation is over.

Refusing to accept that she would lie for that monster instead of being honest with herself, the boy bolts out of the study and down the hall, hopping down the stairs two at a time and out the front door. He runs as fast and as far away from that evil place until he finds his safe spot. He crawls onto the bench under the viny trellis that rests in front of the hedges that surround the front yard.

He hugs his knees to his chest, hiding his face. Rain pitter-patters against the unoccupied boards of the bench, splashing him. He rocks himself back and forth, listening to the rhythm of the sky, trying to forget it all. He isn't crying, the rain is just splashing his cheeks. He just misses his mom.

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Nik's eyes snap open. He panics when all he can see is darkness. He calms down when he realizes he is not alone in the darkness. He feels soft skin and warmth around his midsection. His eyes adjust to pitch-black just enough for him to see her outline. He hears the familiar faint snoring and takes some deep breaths to reorient himself and calm down.

The arm that's wrapped around her traces up and down her back, slowly, just wanting to feel her there beside him. She shifts slightly but doesn't wake. He turns his head to the other side of the room, to the glass doors that lead to the balcony. Moonlight and starlight are all that illuminate the space.

'It's been a while,' he thinks to himself. When was the last time he had that dream of her? When was the last time he had decent enough sleep to even have a dream?

He searches around in the dark for his phone to check the time but is unsuccessful. It doesn't really matter anyway. It's not like he was planning on getting up yet. He doesn't want to risk waking Jane, especially not over something trivial like a bad dream about the past. It's something he can't change anyway, best not to dwell on it.

'You're pretending again. The master pretender who runs away from all the tough feelings. When are you going to get the courage to face yourself?' A voice berates him from the back of his mind. A voice that so closely resembles that of the venomous viper. He rubs his face, trying to get some control over his thoughts.

"Nik? What's wrong?" The sleepy voice calls out to him, bringing him back to earth, back to bed, back to where she is with him right now.

"Huh? Nothing, just go back to sleep okay?" He feels guilty for disturbing her but at the same time, thankful that she is there, trying to talk to him. It helps.

"I can't sleep until you lay back down, so clearly it isn't nothing." He hears that nagging tone and just huffs out a dry laugh. Not realizing he sat up, he scooches back down into his previous position and wraps himself around her, bringing her face into his chest.

"Better?"

"It will be, once you tell me what's going on in that thick head of yours."

"Just a bad dream. Nothing big. Can we just go back to sleep now?"

"Are you sure? We can talk about it if you want." She stifles a yawn and does a little stretch.

"It's okay. We can talk about it later yeah?" She nods her head, snuggling against him, her hot breath slowing as she drifts back off into whatever she was dreaming about before. He holds her just a little bit closer, not wanting to lose this feeling. He kisses her on the top of the head.

How anyone can 'love' someone else and also tear them apart at the same time makes no sense to him. How she could grasp onto whatever threads of their past intimacy and allow herself to dangle over the mouth of the beast is ludicrous. If that's what loving someone is, then he will settle for keeping to himself.

At least that's what he used to think before Jane shimmied her way into his story. She slipped in between the cracks and found her way to him somehow. It's okay. It's not so lonely anymore.