Headed to SB. Got a line on the statue. See you soon.
My gut sank. Elliott. I met Thatcher's worried eyes. Carefully, I said, "You met Hawk?" He nodded. "Did your mom tell you how we found you?"
"He tracked my phone," Thatcher said slowly. He put the pieces together and clicked his screen closed. "Hawk saw this?"
"I'm sure he did."
"Is he going to hurt my dad?" I barely knew the kid and already I hated hearing his voice go small. If Elliott Hall had been here, I would have knocked him out cold.
"Not unless your dad tries to hurt someone in this house."
"Do you think those Leary guys are going to follow my dad? Here?"
I shook my head. "I have no idea. Hawk probably has a better guess than me. Do you want to go find him? Show him your phone?"
Thatcher sat there holding his breath, staring at the dark screen of his phone. Finally, he stood, the movement slow and awkward as if he was tired all the way to the bone. Shoving his phone in his pocket, he said, "Yeah, I think maybe we should."
I squeezed his shoulder, my chest going tight when he leaned into me for just a second. He didn't hate me. That was a start. "Everything's going to be okay, Thatcher."
I knew better than to make promises about things I couldn't control. I did it anyway. He'd been through enough. I wasn't going to let his dad make things worse. Not if I could stop him.
Chapter Forty
TENN
"You're not helping." I'm sure Scarlett meant to sound firm, but her breathless words only drew me back for another kiss.
"Did I promise to help?"
"I thought it was implied when you sat down and started going through that storage bin."
I couldn't help giving her a raised eyebrow and a matching smug smile. "You thought wrong. I'm here to distract you with kisses."
Her eyes sparkled in the golden light flooding through the small attic window. "Well, okay then. As long as the kisses keep coming."
The lid of the storage bin in my hands, I leaned in to press my mouth to hers one more time. Despite my teasing, I'd come up to the attics with the intention of helping. I'd tried to concentrate on work, but I hadn't seen Scarlett alone in daylight for a few days, and I missed her.
I loved our stolen nights in my room across the hall. I wasn't pushing for more. Not now. Not yet. But I wanted this, too. Just being with her, helping her or her helping me. When I was with Scarlett, something deep inside me relaxed, at ease and at the same time more alive than I'd ever been. I was at home and on an adventure at once. All I wanted was more.
I'd hold off the kissing for a few more minutes. Maybe one. We did have a job to do. Tossing the lid to the floor, I dug into the plastic storage bin at my feet. A small smile curving her mouth, Scarlett did the same with the bin in front of her.
She'd finished the main areas of the house and had started on the attics. Plural. Each wing of the house had its own attic, and all three were a rabbit warren of small rooms, most of them packed with stuff. Furniture and boxes. So many boxes. Everything from ancient crates and antique steamer trunks to faded cardboard and more modern plastic storage bins. It looked like none of my ancestors had ever thrown away a single thing.
Scarlett ducked her head to the side, landing a quick kiss on my jaw. "Did I say thank you for the torch and glass? And the space by the kitchens?"
"Several times." Her thanks had involved the handcuffs, my bed, and hours of delicious sexual torture. "If that's the way you say thank you, I'll have to think of more things to buy you."
She poked me in the side. "That wasn't my thank you. That was just for you. I owed you one."
"In that case, I'll have to think of more ways to get you in my debt."
She hummed in the back of her throat, a sound of pure satisfaction spiked with a thread of anticipation. "Anytime, cowboy."
I resisted the urge to tumble her to the floor and have my way with her. It felt like we were alone, but I had no idea if these doors locked. Later. I'd get my hands on her later. I went back to sifting through the bin in front of me. Nothing interesting yet. We'd stumbled onto a random assortment of my father's papers, stored up here who knew how long ago. So far, my bin held everything from a roofing estimate to dental bills.
"How was your hike this morning?" she murmured, opening a manila envelope and scanning the contents.