Thrown out and locked up (scömìche)

Chapter 11

The woods surrounding him were thick and dense, casting a dark shadow over the rough tracks. The ice and snow on the road made the driving conditions treacherous but that wasn't Mitch's main concern. There were no tyre marks in the white blanket suggesting that nobody had been up here since the last snow fall; hopefully that meant that Sam was sticking to his reclusive nature rather that proving that he wasn't home.

When Mitch breathed, his breath evaporated like smoke as the freezing chill had penetrated the car. It was too old and too beaten up to bring life to the dashboard heater.

The track was long and, in some places, very steep as it wound up the side of the mountain. From memory, Mitch knew Sam's cabin was only about half way up but it still was a struggle to get to. It was exactly what the older man wanted when he went house hunting.

There was pale light at the end of the tree tunnel, Mitch bit the inside of his cheek as doubts washed over him. What if Sam turned him away? What if Sam wasn't there anymore? It wasn't exactly unusual for the man to disappear for weeks on end so there was no promise he would be there.

The white of the snow was dazzling when the wheels finally crunched onto the fine power. Mitch glanced around the scene and was once again in awe of Sam's home. The cabin sat on a ledge on the mountain side, it over looked miles of snow dusted pine trees and the peak of the mountain stood several hundred feet above. The dark rock made rare appearances though the blanket of snow.

The cabin was covered in the white stuff and the sleek black car beside it was also laden in it. Mitch couldn't comprehend how Sam could deal with so much snow everyday.

The old car rolled in beside Sam's vehicle and it seemed to release a sigh of relief when Mitch finally cut the engine. It had been a long and tiresome drive for them both. The teenager was partially surprised it had made it the whole distance.

Mitch grabbed the bag and tightened the coat around his thin frame before stepping out into the deep snow. He hurried though it, leaving footprints of his trail. He made it onto the porch and hesitated before knocking the door.

There was a wait before the door was opened carefully. A large man with long hair and broad shoulders opened the door with a suspicious line in his brow. It wasn't exactly often that someone turned up on his doorstep. He studied the visitor before a small smile pulled at his lips and he spoke.

"Mitch Grassi?" He stepped back to allow the teenager into his small home, "It's been years."

"I know, I really should have gotten up here more often." The cabin was warm and Mitch could feel the blood retuning to his frozen toes.

The tall man waved a hand, "I kinda live out of the way. It didn't exactly move here wishing regular visitors." He smiled, "I'm always on the move anyway."

He encouraged Mitch into the small living room, barely large enough for the two couches and TV set that it contained. The large window brought more space into the room though. The teenager placed himself on the edge of one of the seat and waited for Sam to return with the drinks he'd hurried off to get.

The young man's eyes scanned the room, strange carvings were high on the walls but Sam had always been a fan of mythology, or so his father always told him. He was thinking over his father's friendship with the elusive man when he came back in the room carrying two cold beers. Condensation dampened the label on the front, Mitch couldn't resist the urge to peel it away with his thumb.

"So," Sam starts casually, "How've you been?" His hazel eyes are deep and full of understanding. Sam is one of those people that can relate to anyone even if their lives are completely different. It's a skill that Mitch could never understand.

He swallowed, looking down at the wooden floorboards, "It's been hard. God, it's been so hard. My step-mom kicked me out within the week of dad's funeral, I've been sleeping rough for months now and I had to turn to crime... Not exactly a great year."

"It sounds real tough. Must have been hell to get through. You should have come and found me sooner. There's always space here for another person especially when they're family."

"Family?" He asked, frowning at how this loner had claimed him to be close enough to be like relatives.

"Your dad and I... We went back a long way. I'd do anything for him, so by extension I'd do anything for you." His smile was gentle and reassuring, "Anyway, it can get lonely out here. You always need someone." He shrugged.

Sam's eyes glanced out the window up at the pale sky, "It's gunna get dark soon. You staying the night?" There was no push or expectation in his eyes. It was something his dad always loved about Sam, nothing seemed like a trouble to him. He'd easily go out of his way to help others.

"If you don't mind..." Mitch began shyly.

"Of course not! You'll have to take the couch though. My back these days could never take it." Sam smiled as he wandered off to collect blankets and pillows for his house guest.

Mitch watched him go and considered his comment about his back. Sam wasn't exactly old, perhaps coming up to 40 soon but maybe his job had worn him down; whatever it was.

---

Mitch was warmer and more comfortable than he'd been in months(aside from Scott's massive bed) but still struggled to sleep. His mind was wide awake even when his body was desperate to sleep. His thoughts were stuck on Scott and how he'd almost become his world over the last few weeks. The man meant everything to him and the thought that Scott had betrayed him at the crime scene broke his heart.

Mitch reached down into his bag and pulled out the cell phone Scott gave him. He typed out a quick message to the blond man.

Trying to get to sleep but can't stop thinking of you. Missing you loads.- M

He slipped the cell back in the bag and closed his eyes tight, determined to eventually fall asleep.