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A blanket of twigs snap beneath our sneakers as Xavier tightens his grip on my sweaty hand. Crickets chirp and things I don't want to think about rustle through the darkness as we move further than I've ever been through the knotty trunks.
A small cabin, in a clearing, comes into view, and he rushes up the rickety stairs, to the front door, dropping my hand somewhere along the way.
Spooky shadows lurk inside the windows, and I hang back a bit, my sneakers cemented to the earth. “What’s in there?”
“Don’t be a fraidy cat.”
“I’m not afraid.” I raise my chin and step on the first wooden plank leading up to a small porch.
He opens the door. “Ready?”
I’m not, but I’ll never let him know it, so I continue on and follow him into the unknown.
He flicks his flashlight on and scans the room. The dark walls are bare, and a lone chair sits like a throne in the middle of the room with steel handcuffs attached to both arms.
“What is this place?”
“I don’t know,” he answers, looking over at me. “I followed your dad and his friends the other day down here.”
“Xavier, we shouldn't be here. I don’t think good things happen in this place. I don't like it here.”
He grabs my arm, his blue eyes holding mine. “One day, I’ll take you away from your father and all the bad things.”
Xavier has never liked daddy either. His cold hard stare. The gruff in his voice when he yells at him for everything.
My father calls him a ...nuisance.
“What if I don't want to leave?”
“What could you possibly like about living with your father?”
I don't get to answer because there’s a snap of a tree branch outside.
“Hide,” he says, flicking off his flashlight. We crouch by the far wall of the small cabin, behind a table of tools I don’t fully understand.
The front door flies open. “Who’s in here?” The sound of my father’s voice startles us both. Xavier, eyes loaded with fear, slaps a hand over my mouth before I can answer.
Tucking my knees to my chest, I try to make myself disappear. I squeeze my eyes shut, anything to make me go away. My father will probably spank me for being out here, maybe ground me forever from playing outside, but it’s nothing compared to what he’ll do to Xavier.
He might even go so far as to fire his mother.
When my father shines his light around the room, we shrink back into the small alcove of the side. Footsteps fall faster to our hiding spot, and Xavier is yanked up by his hoodie.
“You're hiding like a rat,” my father bites out. “Why are you in here?”
Xavier’s eyes meet mine, and he gives a little shake of his head, warning me to stay silent. “Answer me,” he yells so loud it feels like the walls vibrate.
“I was just exploring,” Xavier finally responds.
“Exploring?” My father drags him to the chair and drops him down in it. “Come out of there, Rhiannon,” he orders.
Reluctantly, I stand from my hiding spot. He flips on the light, and I squint against the fluorescent glare. He's scary when he's angry. Pinched face, flaring nostrils. And right now, he's madder than I've ever seen him. Hannah says to count when I'm afraid or upset and when I'm finished, it won't seem so bad. So, I count the steps over to him in my head to calm myself.
One.
Two.
Three.
