One.
Two.
Callum opened the door, rubbing an eye and looking sleepy. Good. I hoped we’d woken him up, the asshole. He didn’t deserve to be well-rested.
I could hear the bass of their voices but not the actual words. Jackson pointed to the side of the house and Callum shook his head with irritation. His scrawny, stupid, little head.
I held my breath when he dipped back inside, but then almost let out a squeal when he reemerged wearing boots and tugging on a jacket. He followed Jackson, closing the front door behind him.
I left the cover of the tree, creeping toward the entrance. As soon as Jackson and Callum disappeared completely around the side of the house, I took off. I slowed when I got to his stairs, peeking to make sure they hadn’t re-emerged, but I could still hear them talking.
“This is the line we need to work on. Could be without power for a few days.”
“A few days? That’s ridiculous, man. Why didn’t I get a letter or something about this?”
I crept up the steps and placed my hand on the doorknob. I held my breath as I slowly turned it and slipped inside, letting the door shut lightly behind me.
The house was just as dingy as I remembered it—balled-up clothes and cans everywhere, fruit flies buzzing around the kitchen, the faint smell of musty body odor covered up by an aggressive amount of cologne.
I had to be quick.
I ducked and peered into the kitchen on the left side of the house, not wanting to risk being seen through the window that led to the side yard where Jackson and Callum were currently. No sign of Vermont, but I did notice a bowl of water on the ground.
He was here. Somewhere.
“Vermont,” I whispered, before making a cooing sound.
I stepped into the living room, snapping my head from side to side. The couch from the photo caught my eye immediately. No sign of Vermont, but there was my sweatshirt, draped over the armrest like it was his.
My anger flared as I yanked it off the couch. Shrugging one backpack strap off my shoulder, I stuffed the hoodie inside, grimacing at the smell. Hopefully if I washed it a dozen times, that would eventually fade.
I kept moving. A short hallway branched off the living room, leading to the bathroom and his bedroom.
The bathroom door was open. Inside, the only sign of life was a makeshift litter box shoved into the corner.
I side-stepped across the hall, pushing Callum’s bedroom door open. My eyes barely scanned the room before they landed on him, and my heart flew into my throat.
“Vermont!” I whisper-shrieked. His fur was slightly matted, his limbs lazily stretched in every direction, soaking in the rays of morning sun filtering through the blinds. When hespotted me in the doorway, his head lifted slowly, ears twitching as if deciding whether I was worth the effort.
Tears brimmed the corners of my eyes. I fell to my knees and he stretched, letting out a small meow as he got up to nuzzle my hand.
“You scared the shit out of me. And here you are just lounging about,” I said through a laugh.
He blinked at me innocently, a purr vibrating his entire body. I stroked his chin before I shrugged off the cat carrier backpack and set it down. I took out one of the treats I’d bought, trying to bribe him not to make a fuss. Thankfully, Vermont, the even-tempered cat he was, let me pick him up and set him inside without a struggle. I wrapped him in the sweatshirt, giving him a makeshift bed of sorts before I zipped it closed. He got settled, pressing his face against the mesh siding.
Got him, Gran.
I had to keep it together, and then I could happy-sob on the way home.
I stood, slinging the bag over my shoulder. I took two steps toward the half-open bedroom door, preparing to slip out and down the hallway to the back door and escape out the yard.
That was the exact moment the sound of a slamming door and footsteps halted me in my tracks.
THIRTY-TWO
Reid
“Slow down!”West called from half a block behind me.
