Page 26 of Hidden While In Sight

He didn’t like the sound this time, not in that monotone. He stared at her, trying to figure out what she was trying to protect. That’s what he believed her coldness was, a way to protect herself and control at least one thing in her life: herself. He much preferred her out of control.

Reality was a harsh kick in the balls. Of course she was afraid of him in the light of day. She’d probably been afraid of him in the dark as well. He was a fucking prick to not realize it.

He’d stared too long. Her hand moved to her face, covering the side with the slight sag.

“Leave me alone,” she said.

His body jerked as if she’d slapped him even before she dove to swim away, kicking water in an arc that soaked him and made the world darken.

“Leave him alone!” a high-pitched voice rang in his head, one that normally sounded like sunshine to him, though not with that fear coating it.

Losing sight of his surroundings was a mistake. Diego had gotten too close to the water. His bare foot slipped as he tried to retreat, and he tumbled into the pool.

His body grew stiff as the water closed above his head. The rays of sunlight beyond it cast a glare that waved and dissolved as Diego sank. His arms and legs were too heavy. Of course they were. The man was holding him down, making it impossible to thrash.

Diego shouldn’t have existed. If he hadn’t, everything would have been better. He’d heard his mother say so.

Had he? If that was true, then why was she shouting now? Why was she fighting? It was better not to fight. The man stopped quicker when she didn’t fight back.

Diego’s arms spasmed with the effort to break free. If he could only reach her…

The sparkling water dimmed. His lungs seized. Diego closed his eyes as the idea of trying to escape faded.

He’d felt so small when he’d woken up limp and naked and wet on the tiled floor of the bathroom, wrapped in his mother’s arms. Her body was heavy around him, adding to the sense of suffocation. He coughed water into her hair as he struggled to turn so he wouldn’t choke on it. And that’s when her body had slid, as if boneless, the water along the tiles adding a sickening plop to her fall. He’d never forget that sound, not as long as he lived. Her eyes were open and staring, blood dripping down the center of her forehead from her hairline and between those dead eyes.

“It’s okay,” a voice murmured from close by, and he focused on the pretty lie. Nothing would ever be okay, not with his mother gone, but the words came again to contradict his thoughts. “It’s okay.”

Warmth slid over his arms and around his neck. It seeped into his face, heat chasing away the ice inside. It was still too dark, and he clung to the heat, wishing it was the sun. Light was so much better than the dark nothingness of drowning.

It was just those two words. “It’s okay,” she said again. The voice didn’t sound certain, but that was better somehow. Certainty was a lie. But he could hear the voice, and that was more certain than anything he’d had in a while.

“It’s okay.” This time the words slipped straight into his ear, almost a whisper, one he had to struggle to hear. He wanted to hear it, so he tried to draw closer.

Arms were tight around him, and he reached up to grab them in return as he turned his head and buried his face in her neck. She smelled of chlorine, but just underneath, there was a minty eucalyptus scent.

“Hannah,” he mumbled, even his lips too tired to move.

His eyes opened. The pool was too close. No sunlight sparkled on its calm surface. The sun had been trying its best to blind him, but now a cloud had covered it. He couldn’t remember if there had been clouds before.

The fluffiness of the towel draped over his body couldn’t rival that cloud. His sweats clung to his legs, soaked through, and water dripped from his hair down his forehead, as if it wanted to follow the same path as the blood on his mother’s face.

Her voice had stopped reassuring him, and his hands tightened on her arms. She gasped, trying to jerk away, but his grasp held her tight in that first moment. Feeling the shiver in her arms, he managed to release her, his upper body hitting the concrete without her support and pulling a groan out of him.

He coughed around it, turning so he could choke out the water he’d gulped while in the pool. His arms shook to hold him up, and he felt worse than pathetic as silence rang around him, silence except for the lapping of the damn pool.

When he could breathe a little easier, he lifted his head.

Hannah had curled into herself. “I’m sorry,” she said, her voice barely there and shaking.

“Sorry?” He dragged himself closer to her, and she closed in tighter. He should leave her the fuck alone. He forced himself to stop instead of grabbing her up and holding her like he desperately wanted to. “You saved me, Hannah. Don’t be fucking sorry.”

“I shouldn’t have splashed you.” Her admission was delivered in that flat tone, the one that meant she was trying to keep it from shaking, he realized.

“Like hell. It was my own fucking fault for not leaving like you wanted.” He sighed, wishing he was dry so he could get his head on straight. “I’ve got a thing about water. It shuts me down, and I shouldn’t have gotten so close to the pool.”

She still didn’t uncurl, but she attempted to stop her shivering. She was wearing that skintight suit she swam in and was likely cold from the water now that the sun was hiding.

Diego sighed, forcing himself to stand and grabbing the towel. He was careful not to touch her as he draped it around her huddled form. “You don’t need to be afraid of me. I’d never hurt you, even if you dumped me into the water on purpose.” He stepped away, watching the towel slide down, her fingers too numb to clutch it.

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