We peek over the log. At first, I don’t see anything but snow and trees. Then, I hear a crooning noise that sounds like…clucking? Movement catches my eye, and I spot a hen nestled inside an old stump. “Is that…”
“Another chicken?” Fi finishes.
Michaels nods. “Captain Jack got out, and when I went to find him, I found her instead.”
“Why the heck are theretwochickens chilling in these woods?” Fi whispers.
“That’s a very good question,” he murmurs. “My guess is there’s a free-range farm close by? I don’t think there are wild chickens in Washington.”
Anger and relief flood my limbs, and I lean over, grabbing Michaels by the collar. “Are you kidding me right now? You scared the shit out of us!”
At my outburst, a few things happen at once. The hen’s head swings around, and she takes off into the woods. I stand and storm back to the cabin, rage fueling my steps. “A fucking chicken. We think he’s been kidnapped or murdered, and he’s chasing a goddamn chicken.”
Fi jumps up behind me. “Seb, wait!” I pause, clenching my fists as I try to calm myself.
“Clever girl,” Michaels mumbles.
I glance back at him. “What?”
He snatches Fi’s flashlight and aims it into a bush, which is shaking, the snow falling from its leaves in soft white puffs. Suddenly, Captain Jack surges from the branches with an indignant squawk and runs toward Michaels.
Michaels stands and backs up quickly, stumbling when he runs into Fi, who falls back into me.
“I don’t think he’s stopping, B,” Fi says, pulling on Michaels’s coat. “He looks mad.”
The rooster charges at full speed, and Michaels turns with a shriek, pushing between me and Fi and sprinting toward the cabin. It’s a wonder he doesn’t break his neck.
“Look at the little guy go,” Fi snickers as we watch the captain prance through the snow. “He runs just like Johnny Depp.”
I start humming thePirates of the Caribbeanthemesong and Fi giggles as we break into a jog, trying not to trip over hidden debris and plants as we follow Michaels and Captain Jack.
Jack chases him into the yard but stops when Michaels dartsup the stairs and back into the cabin. Seemingly satisfied, he turns and wanders back to the shed.
“That was weird,” Fi whispers as we head inside where we find Michaels peeking out of the window facing the road. I take off my coat and throw my toque at him. “What were you thinking?”
Michaels catches the hat and chucks it back at me. I duck and it hits Fi in the chest. “I wanted to check on Jack. The door to the woodshed was open like someone had gone inside, and Fi’s crazy stepdad may be lurking around out there like Michael fucking Meyers.”
I frown and glance at Fi. “Didsomeone go in there?”
Michaels shrugs. “I didn’t see anything out of the ordinary. But Jack was gone.”
“So you thought it would be a good idea to go chicken hunting in the forest in the dark?” I ask.
“In my defense, it wasn’t dark when I went looking for him.”
I look up at the ceiling with an exasperated growl, anger reigniting in my veins. “You’re such a selfish prick!”
“What the fuck are you talking about?”
“Did you even think about us? What if something happened to you? We came back and the door was open, Brantley.”
Michaels’s brows furrow as he stares at me. “I didn’t think?—”
“No, you didn’t fucking think, and that’s exactly the problem. You scared the shit out of us.”
“Us?” He sneers, and the hurt I saw in his eyes earlier reflects at me again. “Careful, Bastian. Your empathy is showing.”
Before I even understand my own impulse, I step forward. Michaels flinches as if I’m about to hit him, which—let’s be honest—is a fair assumption. I throw my arms around him, pulling him into a tight hug. My eyes are itchy, and I squeeze them closed and drop my head to his shoulder.
