Chapter 5 #2
“We’ve gotta go back,” he tells her reluctantly.
“We can’t, she’s still out here.”
“It’ll be dark soon. With all the mud on the way home, it’s easy to slide down one of these hills. We’ll start first thing in the morning.”
She wants to refuse. Can’t imagine how scared Emma must be alone in this weather and with night falling. Doesn’t care if she slides down a fucking riverbank herself while searching, but what he said earlier still holds true. They can’t help anyone if something happens to them.
It’s a long walk back, one they’ll be doing every day until they find her, and Addison spends all of it trying to keep herself together.
Her success rate on that front is slowly dwindling.
A little cat waits for them on the front porch, seeking shelter from the rain. She expects it to run when they get close, but it only makes a tiny chirping noise and rushes to rub against their legs.
“Gonna draw the wrong attention if you keep fussing like that,” Wyatt growls.
Vincent would kick the poor thing down the steps.
Wyatt’s scowl of annoyance worries her, and she’s ready to grab up the cat in case he decides he hates animals after all.
She doesn’t expect him to be cruel, not really.
He’s already proven he isn’t the type, but she also doesn’t trust her own judgment very much either.
“Well, get in here. Come on,” he frowns, holding the door open for the cat after they’ve gone inside.
It trots in with its tail in the air, meowing in victory.
“You keep surprising me.” She bends to pet the cat, but directs her words to Wyatt.
“It’s just to keep the noise down outside,” he protests.
“Yes, of course. The noise.”
“Not like it’s staying.”
“Never.”
If there’s one thing she knows about cats, it’s that they’re the ones who decide where they belong.
* * *
Sleep is elusive. She only makes it half an hour before giving up to head to the kitchen for tea. She’s only half as surprised to find Wyatt already there as she was the first time.
He’s petting that brown cat behind the ears while it sits on the kitchen table.
“He’s happy to be inside,” she says softly.
“Knows we’re suckers. All he had to do was cry about it, and in he comes.”
She smirks, remembering that Wyatt was the one who left the door wide open for the cat to walk through. “He must have belonged to someone to be this friendly. The neighbors, you think?”
“Mhmm. Looks old. I bet they had him for a long time.”
She puts water on the stove for tea and sets out two cups, assuming he’ll want one.
It’s no secret she’d been crying again. Dried tracks still stain her cheeks red, and he notices the moment she sits across from him, though he makes no comment.
“When you were lost out there in the park, what did you do when you were alone?” She needs reassurance so her brain stops searching for worst-case scenarios.
“I spent the whole time foraging berries and drinking dirty water at the creek.”
“You were resourceful. Emma, she’s…not.”
“Her momma is brave, so I think you’re cutting her short there. I’m sure some of that rubbed off.”
Addison’s grimace is quick. “You don’t have to say that. We both know it’s not true.”
“You damn near jumped me like a flying squirrel that first day. Didn’t matter that I was twice your size. You would have tried if I didn’t catch you eyeing that knife. If that ain’t brave, then I dunno what is.”
She hadn’t thought of it like that. Never expected it would gain her a few slivers of respect either, but apparently, that’s what it’s done. Wyatt thinks she’s brave. Wait until he realizes that’s never been true.
“Either way, I didn’t do much to prepare her for this world. I should have.”
“Thought that was your whole thing back at the compound.”
He elongates that last word with a mocking sort of annoyance, and she purses her lips. “It was. For the men. Hunting and fighting and knowing how to gut a wild animal for breakfast wasn’t what I was there for.”
“And what were you there for?”
She gestures to her belly with a raise of her eyebrows.
His nose wrinkles. “Right. Repopulating the earth. How are you feeling about that these days?”
“Like it might be a futile effort.” She cups her mug in both hands, wishing the pot would boil faster.
“I was raised to follow these beliefs, but I would be lying if I said I never had doubts. Especially as Emma got older and I realized that what had become of my life is what was waiting for her, too.”
She fidgets with the gold band on her finger that’s always been a shackle. Almost takes it off before she has second thoughts. He might still be alive and assume she’s cheating with Wyatt if he sees her finger bare.
Hell, he’s going to assume that anyway, she thinks bitterly. “Could you teach me how to use the rifle?”
“You wanna be ready to shoot his dick off?”
She snorts, then feels guilty for being amused at anything while Emma is gone. “I want to learn how to survive, and that seems like one of the first steps. You’re a good teacher.”
“You’ve never seen me teach.”
“Taught me how to kill my first rotter already.”
He pauses, chewing his lower lip. “Yeah, alright. I’ll show you, and when your kid gets back, we’ll teach her too. The first time I shot a gun, I was younger than her.”
The tea kettle whistles and startles the cat, who jumps right into Wyatt’s lap.
“Come on now, I’m more of a dog person,” he grumbles when the cat begins to knead his paws into his leg. “That shit hurts.”
“He thinks you’re a cat person now.” Addison smiles, prepping their tea and handing him his cup before joining him again. “I hope the orange cat is okay. Haven’t seen it since…”
Her face breaks, and all the effort she’d been putting into distracting herself falls apart. She’s talking about cats and shooting lessons like everything is fine, but the thin layer of resolve that keeps her from breaking down is starting to crumble.
“I can’t do this,” she gasps, head in her hands and tears flowing freely all over again.
“You can. You will,” he tells her gently.
Crying must make him uncomfortable because he gets up a moment later, putting the cat in her lap and grabbing his coat off the hook. “I’m gonna walk the perimeter, take the flashlight so maybe she’ll see it.”
“I can go with you.”
“It’s alright. Stay. Get some rest. If anything happens, you’ll know.”
He’s gone before she can thank him.
Soon, it’ll be one whole day since she’s seen Emma, and yet it already feels like a hundred.
They haven’t spoken about what might happen if they don’t find her soon.
The odds of success drop with every passing minute.
All she can imagine is that one day Wyatt will tell her they need to stop looking.
That they have other, more important things to tend to, and slowly but surely, the focus will shift from her daughter to any number of other random crises.
“I’m getting ahead of myself, right?” she whispers to the cat. “Tell me it’ll be okay?”
She gets no reply except a headbutt into her stomach and increased purring.
“Wanna share your opinions on Wyatt?”
More purring as the cat curls up to fall asleep on her lap.
“Yeah, I guess he’s growing on me, too.”