Chapter 20
TWENTY
ETHAN
The keys jingle as I unlock the front door and enter the cabin.
I love this place. From the first moment I set foot in this property it felt like home, somewhere I could return to every day after work and let the rustling of the trees soothe me, the silent presence of the mountain calm me.
It allows me to breathe, to just be.
But for the past two weeks, every time my keys turn in the lock and I let myself in, I have to dig the soles of my feet into the floorboards to keep myself from turning the fuck around and getting the hell out of there.
I have to physically restrain myself from getting back in my truck and drive long and hard until I’m lost. Or maybe found.
Because my flannels are perfectly hanging one next to the other on the coat rack, none of them draped over smooth, pale skin.
Because there are no shy looks and pink cheeks stained by the fire.
Because the sweet scent that had seeped into every part of this house is long gone.
Every day, it’s the same. The need to run, to hunt, to find, to claim never leaves me. It burns me from within until I’m sure I will soon be consumed by it. I want to howl at the moon like a wounded animal and tear the world apart like a raging beast. No middle ground. No silver lining.
Taking my shoes off and throwing my jacket on a chair, I head to the living room, not bothering to turn on the lights.
It’s not like there’s anything to see anyway.
I pour myself a drink, downing the amber liquid before it has even had time to settle in the glass, and collapse on the couch, letting my head fall back. I rub my hands up and down my face, hoping it’ll make the tiredness disappear, hoping I’ll feel less drained, less empty.
I’ve been working myself to the bone, foolishly believing that it would take my mind off him, thinking that the more hours I spend away, the easier it would be to deal with his absence.
Bitter laughter bubbles up until I’m sure I look like a deranged person, laughing to himself, alone in a dark cabin in the woods.
But at least, here in the dark I can pretend that he’s somewhere near and I just can’t see him. I can drown in my worry for him, for his well-being, for his safety and let the thoughts ravage me.
My phone vibrates in my pocket and it’s a good thing there’s no one around to see how ridiculous I probably look trying to fish it out of my pocket as fast as possible, hoping it’s him calling me, hoping this is the day I get to hear his voice again.
It’s not.
“Yeah.”
“Wow, don’t be so excited,” comes Devon’s voice.
“I’ll try.”
“And here I was, calling with an update about your boy.”
All my senses go into high alert.
“Did something happen to him?”
“No, nothing’s happened,” he says and relief courses through me, though it’s short-lived. “Although, you should probably know that my guys picked up on someone sniffing around him while he was heading to work. But there’s been no contact of any kind and he’s okay.”
“Fuck,” I curse under my breath, tension pooling in my gut. Jumping on my feet, I start pacing around the room like a caged animal. “You’re sure he’s okay?”
“Ethan. I promise you, everything is fine.”
His words are calm but firm, and I know that he would never lie to me about something like this.
“Okay. Okay, you’re right. Thanks for letting me know.”
I expect him to hang up but instead I’m only met with silence.
“What is it?”
“Are you sure you’re doing the right thing?”
My heart thumps loudly in my chest.
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, are you sure this is what you should be doing? Staying away, worrying from afar when you could see for yourself if he’s okay or not?”
The frustration I’ve been feeling all these days reaches a boiling point.
“He’s so young, Devon. What was I supposed to do, saddle him with a fucking mate on his first fucking heat?!” That’s what I say, but fuck if I’m not practically shaking with the need to see him, to make sure he’s okay with my own eyes, to hear that soft voice I’ve missed so much.
“I see. So, you’ll be okay with it when his next heat comes in a few months and another alpha steps up to take care of it for him, right? I could even offer myself up for the task as a friendly favor.”
Blinding fury floods my veins.
“You touch him and you’re dead,” I growl and the bastard laughs.
“Yeah, you sound really chill about it. Just one last thing, I debated telling you in case you didn’t want to know, but at this point maybe you should.”
“Tell me.” The words brim with desperation for any news about him.
Devon sighs.
“I said before that he’s okay and he really looks that way from what my men tell me, at least physically. But he’s sad, Ethan.”
What he tells me lands like a vicious blow, startling me enough to stop my frantic pacing.
My Ollie. Sad.
“Just some food for thought,” Devon quips before he hangs up.
And leaves me blinking at the phone in my hand, and at a fucking loss about what to do.
***
I barely sleep that night.
I toss and turn, Devon’s words replaying in my head over and over until morning comes and I feel like I’ve been run over by my own truck.
The idea that Ollie might be sad is enough to make me homicidal.
Who the fuck made him sad and why are they still breathing?
But then, there might be other reasons. Maybe now that the haze from the heat has completely lifted, he regrets spending it with me.
The thought makes my insides shrivel, the fact that I could be the cause for his sadness making me want to tear my own heart out.
I chug down my coffee, letting the bitter taste slide down my throat but no longer needing it to wake up. I’m plenty awake.
My gaze strays towards the kitchen window and my mind wanders to all those mornings when we watched the snow fall while I fed him breakfast on my lap. All the smiles he gave me, all the grins, all the surprised laughs. I can’t wrap my head around it that now those smiles might be gone.
What if?
A hot, impossible ember of hope burns inside my chest at the one question that rises unbidden above all others.
What if he’s sad because he misses me, too?
My heart beats hard, so hard it’s a miracle I can hear my own thoughts.
What if he feels the same void I do?
I slam my fist on the counter.
No, I can’t think like that. I left him with a choice. If he was feeling like this, he would have called me. He would have placed that call and I would have been in my truck, driving to him in the next minute.
But even as I think it, a solid conviction in my chest tells me that he wouldn’t make that call, even he did want me there.
Because he’s always been on his own, always taking care of himself, having no one to rely on.
So, no. Even if he’s not really fine, even if he’s hurting, he wouldn’t tell anyone, he would just bear with it, because he wouldn’t want to give anyone trouble, just as he told me the last day he was here.
Leaning with my hands on the counter, my head hangs forward between my shoulders.
Devon was right. If just the mere thought of Ollie being sad has me chomping at the bit to find him and make sure he’s never sad ever again, what will I do when the next heat comes? Am I going to let someone who might very possibly be my mate be touched by someone else?
Never, the word reverberates through me, reduced to a savage growl in my head.
I need to see him. Even if it’s just to check in on him as someone who cares about him, I need to make sure he’s alright.
And maybe… Maybe even see if I’m not the only one in this.
Yes. I swallow thickly. I need to see him one more time.
And I hope as fuck he wants to see me, too.
***
I push through the lack of sleep for hours and hours, the thought of finishing my shift and going to see him the only thing fueling me for the entirety of my patrols.
There’s only one last post to check and then I’m done.
I could be driving to him within the hour.
A ridiculous amount of warmth floods me at the thought.
Jesus, I don’t even know if he’ll be there. If he’ll be working or be somewhere else entirely.
He’ll be there. He has to.
Exhaustion threatens to overwhelm me, but it doesn’t.
But what it does is cost me a few seconds, just the few precious seconds I need to realize that the ground is starting to shake beneath me.
A deafening roar fills the air, the earth beneath the wheels of my truck rumbling, shifting. My hands white-knuckle the steering wheel in an attempt to keep the vehicle straight, to understand what the hell is going on.
The rumble gets louder and louder, and it’s not until I cast my eyes upwards through the windshield that I realize what’s happening and stomp on the gas to get somewhere—anywhere—safe.
Tons of debris, and rocks, and snow are rolling down the slope, heading straight towards me, covering everything in their path, the trees doing everything they can to thwart the unstoppable landslide.
The first small rolling stones hit the truck hard, just as I manage to take refuge under a thick cusp of trees outside the direct trajectory of that wave.
It shields me from the worst as the force of the tumbling earth grazes the truck, throwing me on the driver’s door with a force that makes me gasp out loud.
I don’t even realize that my left side and temple are throbbing until everything starts to go dark, my last thought that I never got to see my beautiful dark-haired boy one more time.