Later that night, we forewent our usual sleeping arrangements. I vowed to make the floor my permanent sleeping space, with Ethan only a few inches away within arms length.

Owen didn't mind the overturned mattress. He lay in bed with the blankets over his lower half, and I assumed he would sleep like a baby with the alcohol roaring through his system. In the glow of the lantern, he stared at the intricate patterns of the wood on the ceiling. "We'll never speak of this night again, am I right?"

"Right." Ethan didn't waste a beat with his response. He rolled his head on the pillow to look at me, nodding slightly to encourage my reaction.

I rolled my eyes. "Yeah."

"Sounds good." After a few minutes, Owen yawned. "Well, goodnight."

***

I awoke, gazing at the sunlight that peeked through the sliver in the curtains. In my mind, I looked back over the recent events and clearly saw Owen's ability to manipulate so easily. He probably had the knack to fool everyone throughout most of his life—an innate talent. A hint of foolishness flooded my mind and nagged at me as well. Although there were many times my stomach churned with warnings, I ignored or replaced them with feelings of desire or jealousy, refusing to believe what my gut was hinting at the whole time.

I hated myself for that.

The weather became much colder, the atmosphere denser, and change was in the air. I was difficult to feel like anyone today. Not a cowboy, a princess, not even myself. A numbness hollowed me out and left me with a feeling of ... nothing. I was nothing. A shell, a husk, a shadow of what I used to be. No more childish games, no more imagination and fairytales. It's only been a few weeks since meeting Owen and I had been forced to grow up and view life how it really was. No longer looking through rose colored lenses.

Like surprises, I hated change.

Ethan sat on the edge of the bed and stared at the window. I curiously watched him from my spot on the floor. What he was thinking? I peeked at Owen who lay in bed, snug under the covers like a child desperate to stay warm.

In a whisper, I attempted to get Ethan's attention. "Hey."

His eyes met mine and he nodded.

I sat up, seeing the sadness in his features. "What's wrong?"

He shrugged. "Just wondering what our lives would've been like if we had a real mother and father that loved us." He turned his gaze back toward the window.

With my soft and tired morning voice, I uttered my vision. "I would have been practicing to be a pianist like I always wanted to do, and maybe be a dancer, or even a children's author."

A small smile formed on Ethan's lips. "And I would have been in love with the most beautiful girl in college. I would bring her home to introduce her to our mother and father." His smile widened. "They would love her so much because she would be smart, and talented, and so so beautiful. She would treat me like all loving women treat their men."

I cocked my head curiously. "How's that?"

"You know," Ethan's cheeks became rosy in color, "showing affection, writing love poems, saying, 'Yes,' when I ask her to marry me and make a family together."

"Yes," I murmured. "I want that, too."

Ethan looked to me with excitement in his brown eyes. "You would love her too because she would enjoy the music you'd play on your piano, and the beautiful stories you tell. You two would sit at the keys and play the most beautiful melodies for the family."

I smiled, impressed with his imagination and visualization skills, and how they instantly transported me to a whole new world of welcoming smiles and warm embraces. I already enjoyed and loved his girlfriend just from his description of her.

After a few moments of silence, Ethan sighed. "We ran to get away from our problems, but it seems like we're destined to never escape them." His disheartened gaze seared into my soul. "Just stay strong, Allison. We'll get through this. I promise."

Before Ethan finished speaking his last word, Owen awoke. He rose in bed, allowing his hair to remain messy atop his head. I focused on the three vertical scratches that trailed from his lower eyelid to his top lip, and took comfort in knowing Mandy fought back.

"Good morning." Owen's voice was low and groggy.

Good? This morning was far from good, and as long as Owen was around, it would alway be that way. I turned toward the window to ignore him. Ethan did the same.

He slid next to Ethan to sit beside him on the corner of the bed. "What's up?"

"Today feels different, that's all." Ethan looked toward me which made Owen do the same.

"I think your sister hates me." Owen gently nudged Ethan with his elbow. "Do you?"

Ethan bowed his head. "I—" A look of heartbreak swamped his facial features as he gulped. When he blinked, the tears that hovered on the lower lids of his eyes glistened.

"Ethan?" Owen whispered in such a sweet voice I could have sworn an angel was calling to him. "Please don't hate me. I didn't mean to hurt you."

"What about Allison?" Ethan turned to Owen.

"What about her?" Owen shrugged.

I sneered.

"You're scaring her, Owen." Ethan's voice raised in frustration. "She's afraid and she shouldn't have to be."

Owen scoffed, fidgeting as his leg repeatedly quavered. "Listen, Mandy was—"

"Amanda," Ethan corrected. "Her name is Amanda."

"Amanda," Owen continued, "was a danger to us. You guys know that. She was gonna tell everyone that we are here. Do you want that? Do you want the police to come sniffing around here, asking questions?"

Ethan didn't answer, instead he changed the subject. "I really liked you, but things are getting out of control. You didn't have to . . . You know."

"I let my anger get the best of me." Owen ran his fingers through his hair, pausing to roughly pull at the strands in frustration. "It's been so long since I ... well, you know. I was drunk and—" he stopped. We waited in silence for an explanation. Owen just shook his head and growled, "She called me a fag, so I had to show her I wasn't."

I shook my head, saddened with his pathetic excuse at blaming Mandy for his behavior.

"You don't like me anymore?" Owen dropped his gaze to the floor. "I know Allison doesn't like me, but you too?" Ethan closed his eyes, and even with his eyes closed he looked pained. Owen placed his hand on Ethan's thigh. "I still like you." Owen gently squeezed Ethan's thigh. "I like you a lot."

I couldn't witness Satan try to manipulate my beloved brother and steal his soul through his touch, but I couldn't look away.

"I just can't." Ethan broke the awkward silence and stood. He searched the room with his eyes until they landed on his jacket on the floor, feet away from empty beer bottles and snack wrappers. He grabbed it, slipped it on, and walked out the door.

My eyes immediately darted to Owen. All that ran through my mind at that moment was that Ethan had left me alone with the devil himself.

Owen's hands raked through his hair nervously and he heavily exhaled. He moved his fingers along his chin as if he were debating between choices and had completely forgotten that I was in the room. After quickly putting his shoes on, he paused while tying the strings. "You hate me?"

Without blinking, I looked to him and nodded.

He didn't express emotion. He didn't even give a glimpse of what my admission made him feel. "This is the part where I run after your brother and comfort him. Like I did for you when you were upset. Remember?" He winked and disappeared out the door, refusing to close it and allowing the cold air to freely flow in.

I wrapped the blanket around my body and went to the door. Before closing it, I peeked out, half expecting to see them in the midst of a heated argument. Shock instantly stopped my heart when I glanced to the lake to see them embracing near the tree where the dark-haired girl had fallen.

Owen pressed his body against Ethan's while Ethan allowed the tree to be his anchor. their lips were moving as if they were talking, but Owen's hands felt and caressed various parts of Ethan. Ethan held onto the tree trunk behind him, but clearly didn't stop Owen's curious hands from exploring his body.

Owen moved his lips forward and suddenly Ethan's face was obscured by blond locks. When Owen separated their bodies by inches, their heads dropped to watch as Owen fumbled with the front of Ethan's pants.

Judging from Ethan's body language, he seemed eager to allow Owen access.

Finally, the flaps of his pants opened and Owen's hand disappeared inside. My hand went over my mouth to suppress a cry. Still, ice cold tears trickled down my cheeks as they continued their kiss. When Owen placed his free hand to Ethan's neck, I let out a scream.

"No!" I ran out the door but fell flat on my face in the freezing snow. I pushed myself up, and rushed inside to hastily slip on my shoes.

In no time, I was out the door with the blanket snug around me and blowing in the wind. Ethan was still buttoning his pants when I made it to his side.

"It's alright, Allison." He turned his back to Owen. "I—I wanted him to."

"You wanted him to strangle you?" I glared, chest heaving rapidly as I struggled to catch my breath.

"He wasn't strangling me." He shook his head but refused to look in Owen's direction. "We were just . . . kissing."

I glared, knowing what I saw was real and not imagined. "His hands were around your neck, Ethan."

"We were just kissing, Allison." Ethan tried to reassure me. "He was just touching me, caressing me, you know?"

Owen didn't say anything, he only smoothed his shirt with his hands and walked back toward the shack.

I couldn't understand why Owen would decide to show affection by placing his hand on Ethan's neck. It didn't sit well with me. None of his actions did.

As Owen disappeared into the shack, I turned to Ethan. "What the hell are you thinking? What happened to the girl you were going to marry, and the detailed life you just laid out for me?"

Ethan scoffed, shaking his head. "That will never happen and you know it."

"Why not?" I threw my hands up. "Why are you allowing him to do this to you?"

"Because I have no choice." He gulped.

"We have a choice, Ethan." I took his hand in mine. "Let's get out of here. Let's leave him and all this behind."

Ethan didn't blink. "You can't even make it beyond those trees, Allison."

"You want to stay? With him? He's a murderer!"

"Who are we to judge?" Ethan narrowed his angry eyes, keeping them locked on mine.

In that moment, I understood completely. Suddenly, it all made sense. "You told him, didn't you?"

Ethan sighed. "I trusted him."

"Because he trusted you with his secret, huh?" I released his hand, feeling something much deeper than betrayal or fear. "He confessed to you what he did to the dark-haired girl, and in return you revealed our secret. Didn't you?"

"No," Ethan sucked in a deep breath, then exhaled. "I told him what we did, and then he told me what he did."

"He threatened you? Is this why you feel you have no choice?"

"As long as he's happy we're safe." He quickly wiped away a single tear that had escaped the force of his willpower. "You know what he's capable of. So until I find us a way out—"

"—we gotta stay on his good side," I finished, realizing the dangerous game we were about to play.

Ethan slipped his hand back into mine and gave it a few comforting squeezes.

I squeezed back before heading toward the lonely, hidden shack.

Uh oh. More secrets? Let me know what you think in a comment!