His Woods (MxM)

35 Tyson Loses It

It's before dawn when I roll over to find that I am the only one in bed.

"Jack," I call out, but nothing comes back except my own echo from the empty cabin.

I think about all of the things that he could be doing as the sun rises: painting, jogging, chopping firewood, the list goes on. Just as I am about to turn over and go back to sleep, I decide that I'll surprise him with breakfast instead.

At first, the empty kitchen doesn't seem that strange, but with the door open and the truck missing from the drive, a strange pang of panic zaps my gut. When I peek out the sink window to see if I can see anything awry, I find a note lying on the counter.

"I'm sorry, Ty," it says in sloppy script.

"What?" I ask aloud.

It takes me much longer than it should to understand what the letter is saying. Jack has written it to me before taking off. Jack is gone. A nuclear warhead goes off in my head.

"No!" I shout. "No, no, no!"

I run upstairs to grab my new phone. When I call him, I hear his cell vibrate on the other side of the bed. He didn't take it.

"Shit."

In a blink, I have a pair of shorts and a t-shirt on. As I bounce around the house to find my tennis shoes, I call Ray.

"Morning, bub," he says sleepily.

I didn't even think about how early it still is. I can picture him rubbing his eyes.

I blurt, "He's gone. Jack, left."

"What!?" I hear Ray let out a grunt as though he just hoisted himself out of bed.

"There is a note. The truck is gone. I'm losing my mind. How could he–"

"Ty. Ty. Ty, stop. We know him. You know Jack, probably better than anyone. He wouldn't skip town," Ray reminds me.

I pause because I know he is right. An inkling of guilt builds up in my heart for letting my negative thoughts carry me away.

"I will be in the car and heading your way in the next thirty minutes. Be there by noon. Get ahold of J'Nae. If she is unreachable, I will text you Trent's number and address."

"Officer House? Why do you know his information?" I ask, completely blindsided momentarily.

"Story for another day, bub," he chuckles.

Just as I hang up and am about to dash out the door, a shiny object grabs my attention from under the corner of the stove. I reach down and recover a thick gold chain and obnoxious pendant.

"What the hell?" I utter before shoving the necklace into my pocket and taking off out the door.

***

Thirty minutes later I find House's homey bungalow between our cabin and the center of the city. Had I not gotten back into running this summer with Jack, I would have never been able to jog the three miles over here. The twelve times I tried calling House, it went directly to voicemail.

When I pound on the door, I have a sudden realization that there is a chance he may not be home. He could be working out or at work already or even with some broad somewhere.

"Gahdamn," I hear him call from inside. "I'm coming."

He jerks the door open just enough to cast a strip of morning sun down his mostly naked body. Only a pair of worn-out briefs cover his unmentionables.

"Tyson, da fuck you doing here?"

"House. Trent. Officer Haussier, Jack is gone. At first, I thought he left, but now I know he didn't. Something weird is happening and I didn't know where to go to get help."