Page 120 of Hidden

Then it's over. The men leave. They’re not running, but just walking, the same way they did before, which is somehow worse than running. It’s like they're not afraid of what comes after. It’s as if they came here to make a point, and they’ve done it.

The path is quiet again and I'm shaking. I look at Miles. He's standing, he's upright, which, considering what I’ve just watched, feels like something he shouldn’t be doing. His t-shirt is torn at the shoulder. His lip is split again, there’s blood on his chin, and the bruising along his cheekbone has been reopened.

His glasses are on the ground; I go to them and pick them up. Then I walk to him on legs that aren't entirely steady and hold them out.

"Put them on," I say. My voice comes out shaking. Miles starts laughing "These aren't prescriptions, are they?" I ask.

I don't know why that's the sentence that comes out, but the way he was moving and fighting without them, they can’t be.

"I don't need them," he says. "I only wear them so girls would stop slapping me for that assholes' mistakes." He points to Mason who’s laughing.

I stare at him. "This is not a time for jokes," I say.

"No," he agrees. Though his mouth is doing something it shouldn't be doing given that his lip is split.

Mason appears beside us, turns to me. "You okay?" he asks.

"I'm…" I stop. "Yes. I'm fine."

He nods, looks back at Miles. "Dad wants to talk. We're going to the house."

He gives Mason a nod, then Mason and Declan walk away, and Miles looks at me, the corner of his lip curls into a smile.

"This might not be what you want, but I’m in with you, if you’re in with me," he asks, putting his hand out for me.

I look at his split lip and his torn jacket and the glasses he wears so girls won't slap him for things that aren't his fault, and I think about Dan, the dinner, the walk and how for the first time I feel like someone is caring for me. Someone has been caring for me for a while now from a distance, but I want it close and personal from Miles. I want him to care for me, the way I know he will.

I take his hand, his fingers close around mine.

"In," I say.

***

The Crawford family home is nothing like I expected, to be honest I don't know what I expected exactly. With only being here for less than a minute I can already tell this home is full of love. Something I’ve never felt before.

As we walk towards the kitchen, Lileah hits me before I can even look around the place. Her arms around me, hugging me tight.

"Are you okay?" She pulls back to look at my face, both of her hands on my arms. "Tell me you're okay."

"I'm okay," I say. "I promise. I'm okay."

She looks at me for another second, then nods. The she pulls me further into the kitchen, and I look around at everyone.

"I'm so sorry," she says. "This is… it's not normally like this. Well…" She pauses. "It's sometimes like this. But not for…" She stops again. "You shouldn't have been there." If someone wanted to talk in riddles with me, tonight really isn’t the best day for it. I have no idea what she’s talking about.

"I'm glad I was," I say looking over at Miles. "He needed someone," I say simply.

Mason and Declan have come in behind us. A woman stands by the stove. Miles's mother, I’m guessing.

A man I don't know stands near the window. He's not doing anything, just standing, with his hands loose at his sides. The room moves differently around him, not dramatically, just slightly, the way a room adjusts when something with real weight enters it.

Miles walks over to the kitchen counter, his back is partially turned, and his t-shirt is off.

I stop walking. The bruising from the first attack has spread and deepened, he has wide patches of yellow and purple across his left ribs that I can see from here. But that's not what stops me, along his left side, just below the ribs, there are three cuts. They’re not deep, not wide, but clean lines that have been cleaned and are healing.

A knife, maybe.

I watch Hayden press something clean against the reopened split on his lip and Miles stands completely still, looking at the wall.