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“Yep.”
Elliot locked the truck and they both headed inside.
The cabin was tiny, and opened into a living space with a TV mounted onto one wall, and nothing more than a simple, worn couch. Between the wall and couch, they’d crammed the mattress on the floor. Elliot maneuvered around the sofa to make his way into the kitchen. Unlike the living room, the kitchen had a low ceiling that almost brushed the top of Elliot’s head. He dominated the petite space, even when he bent to hunt through the bags they’d brought in.
“You couldn’t have picked a smaller cabin?”
Elliot glanced over his shoulder and smirked. “I don’t need a whole lot.”
“And when you find your mate?”
Returning to his task, Elliot snorted. “I’m not counting on that happening anytime soon.”
“That’s what I thought, and now look at me.”
Without straightening, Elliot said, “Here,” and tossed the package of sheets toward him.
He worked on getting the bed set up, while Elliot sorted their bags and put items away. When they were finished, Elliot grabbed a couple beers from the fridge and gave him a brief tour, taking him through the bedroom to the stairs he’d seen from the truck.
The bedroom was equally small, with the bed dominating most of the space. Navy and white decorated the room, and Callum had a sneaking suspicion that Aunt Charlotte had had a hand in ensuring the room had some décor. It was neat and tidy though. Elliot kept a clean house, which Callum appreciated, seeing as he’d be bunking here for the foreseeable future.
With a beer in his hand, he followed Elliot up the outside stairs to the roof. There were four wicker patio chairs and two round glass top side tables. Callum took a seat in one chair, and Elliot dropped into another.
“Thatcher is having a meeting in the morning,” Elliot said, after a few sips from his beer bottle. “You want to come with me, and see how he runs the pack?”
“Am I going to hate it?”
Elliot shrugged his giant shoulders. “Hard to say.”
“I’ll come. What time?”
“Eight.” He tipped up his bottle again. “I’ll probably go for a run around six, then hit the shower and make us breakfast. You up for a morning jog?”
“Definitely.”
“Atta boy.”
Smirking, Callum took a chug from his bottle.
“Do you think you’ll find her here?”
Callum looked out at the dark trees. Lightning bugs glowed in the grass, and above, the night sky was bright with stars. He sighed. “Yeah, I do. I really do.”
He was in the right place now, he could feel it. But finding her. He had no idea how long that might take.
CHAPTER FOUR
Over twenty feet in the air, Vivian’s legs dangled over the deck’s edge, swinging casually back and forth. Rafe breathed a sigh of relief. She was here. She was safe.
Thank fuck.
He ran to his own cabin, shifting back into his human body before dragging clean clothing from his drawers. Heading for the screen door once more, Rafe stopped to grab a bottle of her favorite red, then circled back to the treehouse.
A little over a decade ago, he and Elliot had picked this oak and built a big ass treehouse in it. A liveable treehouse, just for her. He climbed the stairs that curled around the trunk and pushed open the hatch. Inside, the cedar house was one room, a bed pushed against the far wall, a couple of chairs, and that was pretty much it. No plumbing, no electricity. They brought in a generator and heater to keep her warm in the winter months, but its purpose was a hideaway. Somewhere safe she could disappear to on nights her dad or brother became unbearable. It had the added benefit of being on Rafe’s property, so they wouldn’t think to look for her there.
Through the multi-paned window, he saw her glance over her shoulder and wave.
He waved back, snagged a bottle opener that hung on a hook by the door. On the floor was a bulging backpack, likely stuffed with comfort snacks, and a change of clothes. Tucked in the clear front pocket was her phone. A water bottle was in the mesh side receptacle.
