Hide and Seek

Chapter 4

superstitions. He won't.

Inside the room beneath the stairs it's dark, gloomy and damp with aged moss. Glorified

gossamers form nets on all corners of the entrance and nothing beyond can be seen. I open the

door a little further and it echoes noisily within. I try to peer inside but I hear footsteps outside and

shut it immediately. Pulling out my phone I lean at the base of the steps creating a believable cover

for myself as Harry walks through the door.

*HARRY POV*

Mother told me to just let him stay with us, we'd take care of the dilemma that arises with him

soon enough. Now I understood what she meant by the Town taking the house from us, Mother

was right. I was a fool for not listening to her.

I get into my car but cannot start it. It won't move. I grip the steering wheel with both my hands

until the bones in my fingers are white and visible. I flinch when that voice whispers in my ear, the

same voice from last night. Mother.

She says I must stop them from taking away our home. I must do everything in my power.

"What do you want of me?" I ask through clenched teeth.

She raises her voice and I cringe. I was being a coward, she says, I was letting the emotions of

these cruel townsfolk get to me. I must go back to being her protector. She asks if I wanted to be

separated from them.

"No! I love you, Mother. And Gemma is my sister." I answer her.

She doesn't believe me, asking for affirmative proof that they still mattered to me more than

anything else. Get rid of the Sheriff, she says softly.

"Okay." I gulp.

My head slams against the side of the driver's seat, my left temple colliding with the hook the

seat-belt looped over. I hiss in pain as I recover to my sitting position.

"What did I do?!" I demand pressing my hand to my head. It's wet from the dripping blood and I

squint to see through blurry vision.

Punishment, is what she answers with. Punishment for leaving that man-whore alone in our home.

*LOUIS POV*

He ignores my well worked-out but immediate position at the staircase railing's end. Walking past

me I notice something different about his appearance in comparison to when he left twenty

minutes prior.

"What happened to your face?" I ask inquisitively as he passes me into the kitchen.

He remains speechless and I find it best not to meddle with his wishes. 'We aren't friends.' I oddly

recall the statement and couldn't attest to it more than I already am.

I wait patiently for his return and when he does reappear before me, he has on a small white

band-aid strapped on the left side of his face. I raise my eyebrow in irritation and inquiry not about

his injury but rather about my accommodation.