Hide Out by Katie Allen Read Free Book Online Page B

furniture assembly I’ve ever done,” Pete said with satisfaction. “Want to take a break?”
    “Sure.”
    They grabbed their newly purchased camp chairs and two of the beers they’d just stored in the fridge and headed for the front porch. Treading carefully, Pete tested the boards on the far side of the hole and pronounced them sound. Despite that reassurance, Trevor lowered himself very gingerly into his chair. Popping open the beers with the bottle opener on his pocketknife, Pete offered one to Trevor.
    “Thanks.” Taking a drink, Trevor winced. “Warm.”
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    “Well, if you don’t want it…” Pete reached toward him.
    Twisting so Pete couldn’t reach his beer, Trevor shook his head. “Hands off. Warm or not, this beer’s mine. I’ve earned it.”
    “Doing what?” Pete asked, taking a drink from his own bottle. “Shit, that is warm, isn’t it?”
    “Doing a disgusting amount of shopping,” Trevor told him. With a groan, Pete settled deeper into his chair and took another drink. The second sip tasted better than the first. “It was a shit-load of shopping, wasn’t it?”
    “Yeah.” Trevor shifted his chair closer so he could prop his feet up on the railing.
    “Know what we need out here?”
    “What?”
    “Porch swing.”
    Pete smiled. “Definitely.”
    They sat in comfortable silence and drank their beers, watching the rain spatter the muddy spots in the lawn. As lightning split the sky, Pete glanced at Trevor’s profile. Something warmed his chest but it wasn’t the anxiety-tinged heat of desire. It was just…comfortable. Taking another drink of lukewarm beer on the rotting porch of his new home, Pete realized what he was feeling. It was contentment.
    * * * * *
    “Pete.”
    The whisper brought him out of sleep instantly. His hand closed around the grip of his gun. Flipping the unzipped sleeping bag off his body, he rose to a crouch.
    “Pete!” The whisper now had a tinge of fear as Trevor’s almost-naked form materialized from the shadows. “Don’t shoot me, dumbass!”
    “Fuck,” Pete muttered, lowering his gun and standing up straight. His heart was still beating at warp speed. “Not too smart to call the guy pointing a gun at you a dumbass.”
    “So sorry I insulted you when you were holding a gun on me,” Trevor threw back sarcastically, still in a whisper.
    Pete glanced at his watch. It was just past midnight. “What’s wrong?”
    “I think I saw someone in the tree outside my window.”
    The words had hardly left Trevor’s mouth and Pete had slipped by him into the hall. The almost-full moon and the streetlights outside glowed through the uncovered windows. Before they’d gone to bed, they’d thought about putting up the blinds they’d bought, but both of them had been so tired Pete was pretty sure they would’ve ended up with crooked blinds and Trevor screwed to the wall.
    Easing into Trevor’s room, Pete stayed low as he headed toward the window. He flattened his body against the wall by the window frame and snatched a fast look 34
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    around it. When he identified which tree it was, he ducked back into the hall again, moving fast.
    Pete headed down the stairs, through the kitchen and out the back door, easing the door shut behind him. The air brushed against his chest and he realized he was just in his underwear. He immediately dismissed the thought, focusing on the tree next to Trevor’s window. There was enough light from the moon and peripheral streetlights to make a flashlight unnecessary, which was good. A bobbing light would’ve given Pete away as he crept across the yard toward the tree.
    At the base, he peered up but didn’t see anyone. He circled around, looking from all angles, but the tree was unoccupied. Shifting his attention to the ground, Pete saw his own bare footprints, plus a shoe print in the rain-fresh mud. Crouching to examine the print, Pete saw it was smaller than a full-sized man’s print, so it was either a