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It was a chance he needed to take.
Easing the window open, Santee looked over his shoulder, holding his breath. There were too many people in the house, and there was no telling if any of them were upstairs. When no one busted through the door, Santee straddled the windowsill, took a deep breath, and then swung out the window, hanging onto the sill as he dangled in midair.
Squeezing his eyes shut, Santee let go.
Right before he hit the ground, Santee curled into a ball, praying that was the right thing to do. He landed on his side, pain exploding through his right arm and leg.
Unsure how much time he had before Beckett realized he was gone, Santee pushed to his feet and took off, knees to chest as he ran right for the forest. Just as he reached the trees, he shifted, paws hitting the earth as he raced toward home.
Santee weaved through trees, trying to stay out of the sight of the shifters back at the house. Even though he knew Beckett would be upset, the fear of Marvell’s anger was too much to bear.
As he approached his house, he noticed the front door was open, and his heart sank. Marvell was home early. Santee shifted behind a bush, and then tiptoed inside, hoping to slip upstairs unnoticed.
“Where the hell have you been?” Marvell shouted from the kitchen.
Santee froze, swallowing roughly. “I-I was just out,” he stammered, hating how weak he sounded.
Marvell appeared in the doorway, his eyes narrowed. “Out where?”
Santee couldn’t tell the truth, not without risking Marvell punishing him for following those hunters. “Just...out,” he repeated.
Marvell stepped closer, his eyes blazing with anger. “You better start talking, little brother, or I swear to God, I’ll make you regret it.”
He regretted every interaction he had with his brother. Ever since their parents gifted them the house and began to travel around the world, Marvell had been a complete dick to Santee.
Not that he’d ever been nice in the first place. It was as if the guy enjoyed being cruel. Worse, their mom and dad had chalked up Marvell’s roughness with Santee as siblings just being siblings. They never knew the extent of Marvell’s viciousness when they weren’t around.
And it had only gotten worse since they’d left. As if Marvell no longer had to hide who he was.
Santee’s mind raced. He needed to come up with a lie, and fast. “I got all my chores done, and dinner is in the oven. I wanted to go for a run.”
“The dishes are still in the sink,” Marvell griped. “We’re not sloppy people, Santee. Get them cleaned.”
We’re not sloppy people. Marvell was. He was the biggest pig Santee knew. But Marvell’s reaction to a dirty kitchen was on the opposite spectrum of how Milly had reacted to Beckett leaving a mess. She hadn’t called him names or made him feel guilty. She’d lovingly reprimanded him and then started cleaning.
Marvell had never done anything loving toward Santee.
Grateful his brother hadn’t beaten him for being gone, Santee headed into the kitchen. The dishes in the sink hadn’t been there when he’d left. They were the dirty dishes from his brother’s room, where he let them pile up until either he brought them to the kitchen or Santee retrieved them from his room.
But lately, Santee wasn’t allowed to go in there. Marvell had made it perfectly clear about a week ago that Santee was to stay out. His brother even put his dirty clothes in a pile in the hallway so Santee had no reason to go in there.
He just bet it smelled like butt crack in there. Marvell had the worst-smelling feet Santee had ever had the misfortune of smelling. He still had no clue why Marvell’s socks were always stiff and crusty.
What exactly did the guy do to make them that way?
After getting the dishes done and taking the casserole out of the oven, Santee walked onto the back porch and sat on the steps, already missing Beckett.
He could always tell his mate that his homelife was abusive, and he was sure Beckett would ask him to move in, but then Santee would have no idea what Marvell was up to, and he needed to keep an eye on him.
He’d seen his brother meet with humans the past couple of nights, in their backyard, standing too far away for Santee to hear, but his gut told him the meetings were nothing good.
Santee sighed heavily, his thoughts consumed by worry and fear. If his suspicions were correct, which he prayed they weren’t, the men Marvell was meeting with were hunters.
As mean as Marvell was, Santee didn’t want to believe his own brother was helping them. That was unfathomable. Sure, his brother was a jerk and abused him while pretending they were getting along like best friends whenever their parents called, but helping hunters?
It really didn’t make any sense that those heartless humans would need Marvell’s help to go after poor woodland creatures. That was what Santee couldn’t figure out. One would think that, because Marvell was a shifter, he would want to protect animals.
The sun dipped below the horizon, casting an orange glow over the forest. Santee’s heart ached to run free, to feel the wind rushing past him as he darted through the trees. But he couldn’t shake the feeling that something was amiss. His brother’s secretive behavior was a red flag he couldn’t ignore.
