James held his breath as he got closer and closer to his house. He didn't know what he had done but he did know that whatever it was, it was enough to completely enrage his father. He gulped and wrapped his arms around himself. He was afraid, no, completely terrified of what his dad would do to him today.

He thought about turning around and running. Letting his feet take him wherever. Just running and not looking back. Anywhere but there was looking pretty good right about now.

But James knew better. He knew there was no running with his father. His father would hunt him down like a raccoon. He would find him and inflict punishments ten times worse on him than originally planned.

James looked up at the house and took one final breath of chilly air before making his way up the steps. Slowly, he pushed open the front door, already flinching in preparation to be hit. When he didn't see his father right away, he let out a sigh of relief. Maybe his father has forgotten about him. Maybe he'd left to go out drinking again. He smiled to himself and began to head up to his room.

Just as James thought he was safe, he felt a strong hand grab him by the hair. It wasn't long before his face and the wall were forcefully brought together. James felt his nose drip and immediately knew what it was. The tight grip on his hair was released as he crumbled to the ground. His eyes opened in little slits just wide enough to see the angry face of his father staring into his eyes.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?" Hal screamed as he brought his foot up to met James' side, connecting with a sickening crunch.

"I say I want the living room cleaned! I come home this afternoon with Sylvia and the living room is in fucking pieces!" He screamed as he repeatedly kicked his son.

James managed to get a few breaths in between kicks. He looked up at his father, his terrified eyes meeting eyes filled with pure hatred. He tried to remain calm so he could speak, but it was a battle lost from the start.

"D-Dad. It was like that…w-when I woke up. I-I swe-ar." James breathed heavily trying to keep in the sobs that so desperately wanted to escape his throat. He knew that if he cried, he would only get it worse. Big boys don't cry.

Hal grabbed James by the arm and dragged him up to a standing position. He yanked him no father than an inch from his face. James could feel his hot breath, reeking of whiskey, beating down on his face.

"You ungrateful son of a bitch!" Hal whispered through clenched teeth, "I'm the only parent you have left! I'm nice enough to let you live under my roof and all you do is talk back and fuck shit up! You are a worthless fucking embarrassment!" Hal yelled, as he began to drag James through the living room by the arm, so tight that James could feel the bruise forming.

James stumbled trying to keep up with him. His sides hurt so bad that he could barely breath. The blood from his nose was now dripping down onto his shirt. He squeezed his eyes shut, telling himself it'd be over soon enough.

"I'll fix your ass good! If you want to be a lazy piece of puke, go right the fuck ahead. But I'm not gonna be forced to look at your misfit face. You can stay the fuck in here until you learn some respect!" Hal said, as he forcefully shoved his son into the coat closet in the living room.

James hit the wall and landed with a thud onto the floor. He groaned and blinked into the darkness, feeling dazed and sore. He heard his father mumbled a few curse words and then the familiar sound of a lock clicking. James let out a sigh and laid down, curling deep into a flimsy sheet that he pulled from the bottom shelf. It wasn't warm, but it would have to do for now.

When James was little the closet terrified him. He was afraid of the dark and the monsters that he was sure were waiting for the perfect time to eat him. He would cry and scream until he would fall asleep. Often, he would get so scared that he would shake and vomit and wet himself. His father couldn't forget him so easily then, because as soon as he'd wake up he would start freaking out again. So when his father would open the door to reveal a soaked and filthy James, he would scold him for making such a mess. He'd hit him for not having more self control. He made sure that James learned very quickly to 'take it as a man' as he put it.

James didn't mind being in the closet overnight anymore. The way he saw it, the more time he was in the closet the less time he spent with his father hitting him. The closet became sort of a safe place to him over the years. He would be able to sleep soundly and avoid his father. Sometimes, if he was lucky, his dad would forget he was in there for a couple days until he needed to grab something from the closet. Even though that earned him days of safety, it also earned him three very worried friends to deal with. And his excuses where running low.

James wiped the blood from his nose off on his sleeve. His sides felt like they were on fire and he hoped that nothing was broken. After all, hockey season was almost over and James couldn't miss their final game of the season. He sighed, knowing that even if he did get out of the closet, there was no way he would be able to go see his friends tomorrow. He was just too sore. It hurt to move. His head hurt, and he was sure his dad ripped some of the hair out of his head. There was no way he could possibly keep up with them without them noticing something was wrong.

Usually on Sundays, Carlos' and Logan's families went to church. Carlos and Logan would only be able to hang out for an hour or two in the afternoon before going home for Sunday dinner. This meant that there was less time he'd have to make an excuse for. Unless, of course, Kendall wanted to do something with him. Which was very likely.

He squeezed his eyes closed, trying to breathe through the pain in his torso as he planned out what his lie would be this time.

He couldn't say he was sleeping. He'd just used that one today. Sick? No, Kendall would tell Logan and Logan would freak out and try to doctor him for the rest of the week. Surprise visit from grandma? No, he used that one last week. Snowed in? Nah, the snow wasn't that deep lately. Wanted some alone time? Ha! Like he'd really choose to be alone instead of with the guys.

Finally, he decided to say that his father and him spent the day together. He'd say his dad woke him up early and they'd gone ice fishing and then out for a nice lunch. Perfect! After all, it would be Sunday and the guys would never accuse him of lying about spending quality time with his dad.

James' eyelids began to feel heavy. His head hurt too much to think anymore. Now that he had a plan he knew it was safe to go to sleep. As much as he wanted to stay safe from his father for as long as possible, he hoped his father would let him out tomorrow. He couldn't plan a lie big enough to cover two days right now. Finally, he succumbed to his exhaustion and let himself fall into a deep slumber. Everything will be okay in a couple days. I've just got to hang in there.

Sigh. Okay! I think I just fell in love with this story all over again. Cross your fingers for a quick update! So please, tell me whatever and EVERYTHING you thought about this chapter! And thanks so much for sticking with me here guys (: