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He doesn’t wince, which makes me feel a little better about how tactless the response was. I could have probably said it much nicer. At the same time, he knows what I’ve been through. Skirting around it would just be stupid.
“I meant romance,” he says easily. And I like that ease a lot. Just another way he’s not going to skirt around things. Another way he respects what I’ve been through and how I’m working to overcome it. “Did you have any relationships before you were taken?”
“One. My senior year of high school I was with a guy. Elijah. He had graduated the year before, but we didn’t run in the same circles so I didn’t really know him, just knew of him. He worked at the auto shop in town as an apprentice and came to tow my car when it broke down. It was all very small-town romance and first love fuzzy feelings.” I sigh wistfully without meaning to. It’s not that I miss Eli. I just miss the simplicity of the time when I was with him. “We broke up when I went off to college. It was devastating for a week and then my life was so different and new and exciting that I sort of forgot he existed. I’m… terrible.”
“Nah. I feel like that probably happens a lot with high school relationships after high school. I’m sure some actually work out, but most probably fizzle.”
“True.” I rest my cheek on his shoulder, my eyes closing. I decide to push this moment toward greatness. “I’d like one, though. A relationship. Romance. The happy ending.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.” I lift my head to look at him. “You think that’s possible for us survivors?”
“Absolutely,” he says without hesitation. My heart feels like it’s fucking floating, unmoored and desperate for a happy ending. Desperate for him. “If you want that, you’ll get it, Nolan. I’ll make sure of it.”
I swallow hard. “How will you do that?”
He tilts his head to look down at me. Our mouths are just inches away from each other, his breath warm and smelling of chocolate. I feel his gaze fall to my lips before he takes in a sharp breath.
The door of the house opens, both of us turning so quickly the swing lurches. Travis is standing there with a phone squeezed in his hand and a haunted look in his eyes. Jake is hovering behind him. Maison is on his feet before I can blink. “What’s wrong?”
I stand too, pressing a steadying hand to Maison’s back. Despite every instinct telling me to run from Travis as fast as I fucking can, I have a sick feeling Maison’s about to need the support.
“It’s Carter,” Travis whispers, a slight tremble to his body. “He’s in trouble.”
Chapter Nineteen
Maison
It’s Carter, Travis’s voice echoes. He’s in trouble.
Travis drives just this side of recklessly as he cuts the time to Carter’s location nearly in half. The SUV’s engine clicks off at the same time as he opens the door and slides out.
“Give me ten minutes,” he tells us before we can even reach for our own doors. “If I’m not back or haven’t at least called in ten minutes, come in.”
I don’t like it, but Jake is already nodding and this is the worst possible time to start a fight. I nod too. The moment he’s out of sight, I tell Jake to start a timer as I pull out my phone and dial Ace. He had told us he’d try to find out what he could while we were driving. I’m hoping he found at least something on who this fucker is that has my brother.
Ace answers before it can ring a second time.
“Hunter Meridian,” he says without a greeting, his voice ringing out in the vehicle since he’s on speaker. “That’s the name on the account linked to the phone that the man used to call Travis. His name is also on the deed of the house at the address the man gave. His phone is pinging from inside, too.”
“What do we know?” I ask.
“A few things, so far. I pulled his background as well as the location of his phone in the last twelve hours.” He clears his throat. “I also pulled Carter’s phone location.”
There’s a slight pause. I exchange a look with Jake before deciding whatever it is, I want to know. I don’t care if it’s going to be uncomfortable. This is Carter’s fucking safety we’re talking about. “Tell me, Ace.”
“He was at a club about fifteen miles east of the house. They both were there, their time overlapping for the last hour before they left together.” For a moment, all I hear is the creak of his chair. Then, “It’s a gay club.”
“Casey?” Jake asks, sounding panicked.
“His phone hasn’t left their apartment at all this evening, so it seems Carter went alone.”
I press a fist to my forehead. Not only did Carter go to a gay club, but he did it alone. For fuck’s sake.
“I’m going to call Casey,” Jake says. “See what he knows about any of this.”
I nod. “Please.”
