She nods, and I reach for her hand. She lets me take it, lets me guide her to her feet.
“I don’t want you to come, Carter,” she admits under her breath.
I reach up and cup her jaw, forcing her to look at me. “I know, but I’m coming. Okay?”
Because she needs me to. I know that. I see it all over her.
She bites on the inside of her cheek, pondering this. She finally nods and guides me to her closet, where she stares at the rows of clothes until she finally picks out a black dress.
I drape the dress over my arm and look at her. Her face is so starkly pale that it scares me. Her eyes are haunted. Vacant. What if I can’t take care of her the way that she needs me to? What if I fail her?
“Ready?”
She slowly retrieves her suitcase and brings Stinky to her chest, squeezing him tightly. When I take her luggage from her hand, she winds both arms around that stuffed animal and pushes her shoulders back.
I see both a woman and a little girl marching out of that room toward something that terrifies her.
CHAPTER SIXTY-ONE
carter
Declan
Text me when you get there. Hug her for us. We’re so sorry, man.
Boston
All good for work, buddy. Text Coach if you need more time. He’s ready to accommodate you.
Callum
Head up, Fork. We’re here if you need us.
The cab rideis utterly silent. I glance over at her every few seconds, but she’s lost in her own head. She grips that toy skunk like it’s the only thing grounding her, and for a moment, I feel relief. She’s never really been alone. She’s always had her mom with her, especially during the tough times. She feels her every time she squeezes that skunk.
We pull up to a two-story home made of red brick. The porch light is on, but the curtains are all drawn. Arden looks at it like it’s haunted, like there are ghosts she has never stuckaround long enough to face beyond that door. Her grip on Stinky turns lethal.
I don’t speak, and the driver must feel that something is wrong, because he doesn’t usher us out of the car either.
I wait for her to get to where she needs to be.
She hasn’t been home in years. She’s returning to everything being different. She’s walking right into the place that scarred her. These walls, these people, this life—it holds a lot of complicated memories for her, and I am so out of my fucking element.
I just want Red to be okay.
After a few minutes, she sucks in this big breath and turns to me. “Ready?”
“Are you?”
She smiles tightly, eyes searching mine. Then, heartbreakingly, she shakes her head.
She gets out of the car anyway. I thank the driver and hand him an extra big tip for being kind. I unload our stuff from the car, and Arden waits with Stinky at her chest, not daring to take another step forward on her own. She stares up at the house, and as I shut the truck of the cab, there is movement behind the curtains.
We barely reach the door before it flies open and a girl who looks nothing like Arden, but just like her all the same, storms onto the pavement. Arden freezes, making me skid to a stop behind her.
I study this girl’s face and the look in her eye, my hand moving to rest on Arden’s back to remind her I’m here.
She has bright blue eyes and dark brown hair that’s pulled into a bun on the top of her head. Her eyes are swollen, her lips puffy and chapped. A soldier who’s been on the frontline for many, many years. Her gaze skims to me for half a second before going right back to Arden.
