A Home For Timmy (boyxboy)

Chapter 20: Our Secret

I ran a hand through my hair and cursed under my breath. I had a sick child and his missing father on my head, and I had to admit that it was a scary thing. There was no one I could call to find out where he was because I hadn't taken the time to even learn who his friends were. I hadn't cared to know, because I'd been so selfishly caught up with the fact that I had him to myself. I cursed again, then took a deep breath.

I had no idea where he was. I didn't know the places he liked to hang out, or even what he was out doing tonight. I didn't know if he was on his way back or in trouble and in need of my help.

I paced one end of the room to the next. I had two choices; I could either sit up all night and wait for him, or I could go out and search. I glanced at Timmy when he coughed in his sleep and I made my decision.

I crossed the room in two long strides and grabbed Timmy's bag from where it lay beside the chair. When I'd managed to unzip it, I walked around the room, stuffing all his favorite toys inside. I ran upstairs briefly and pulled out a few pieces of clothing and stuffed them in too. Then there was his toothbrush, his bath-time toys, some socks, shoes and the soap we used for his rashes.

Once downstairs, I deposited the full bag by the front door and grabbed his lunch bag from the kitchen, which I stuffed full with all his favorite snacks, some cold medicine and half a box of mac and cheese.

Minutes later, when I had everything packed in the back seat of my car , I called my dad and told him to expect us, then I reentered the house, pulled a cap over Timmy's head and lifted the sleeping toddler into my arms. I made sure the blanket was wrapped securely around him before I crossed the room, went out the front door and locked it behind us.

He didn't wake while I fastened him into his car seat, and he hardly shifted when I finally pulled out of the driveway. I worried about Jason on the entire ride over to my parent's house, and picked my brain on where he could possibly be. My mind constantly returned to the house I'd rescued them from and I hoped, but doubted that he was there.

If something was wrong with him... I shook my head to clear it and glanced at Timmy in the rearview mirror. I couldn't allow my mind to go there. Jason would be fine. I'd find him tonight, he'd have a good explanation for why he'd put me through all this worry and we'd forget about it by morning.

It was just too bad that I didn't believe it for a second. Something was wrong. I could feel it in my bones. Jason was in trouble and he needed me.

I didn't waste time explaining to my parents why I was leaving Timmy with them in the middle of the night and they didn't ask why. They seemed to just understand that whatever I was doing was important, and while my mother took him from me and my dad took the bags, a small flicker of understanding passed between us, and I knew that he at least understood that Jason was the reason.

"Call if you need me." He said simply, and a moment later I was back behind the wheel. It wasn't a long drive to the dilapidated house Jason had once lived with Timmy, but in my state of worry, it felt like hours before I finally pulled up into the overgrown yard.

It was funny how years of being trained to remain unfazed in any situation could be pointless when a loved one was involved. I had my gun in hand as I walked silently up the rickety, old steps and I was as quiet as I mouse as I pushed the door open and entered the place.

It didn't take long for my eyes to adjust to the darkness, but with only the moon shining through the dirty windows as my source of light, it was difficult to maneuver my way around the place.

I was ninety-five percent sure that apart from the mice I heard scurrying under the floorboards, there was no other sign of life in the house, and it was only then that I allowed myself to pull my cell phone from my pocket and flick on the flashlight app Jason had downloaded only weeks before. I blinked a few times when it came on and looked around. It was dirtier than I remembered. Every inch of the place was caked with what looked like years' worth of dust, but it was the same dust that told me that someone had been there recently.