Page 16 of The Sound of Him

I flinch. I forgot Bryce was here. He has his sad smile on now. That one is even harder to look at than the worried one.

“If you won't eat, can you maybe go up on the bed at least? This floor is so hard and it's freezing under here.”

He's such a mother hen. I don't mind that. I like it, even. It makes me feel cared for in a way nothing has since I was last with my mamá.

“Come on,” Bryce says. He backs himself out from under the bed, then reaches for me.

I hesitate. This place is nice. Safe.

It's not where I'm supposed to be, though. Places like this are for the ghosts. The monsters. I'm supposed to be human. I'm supposed to bereal.

I’m supposed to at leasttry.

I take his hand and let him pull me out.

He tucks me in on the bed, pulling a soft blanket up over my shoulders. It's a nice blanket. Warm. Not too heavy. The mattress is soft, too, but not so soft I feel like I'm going to fall right through. It’s nicer than the floor.

It…shouldfeel nicer than the floor.

Nolan is in his own bed across the room, fast asleep. I wonder when he got there. If he even noticed I was under mine. I wonder why I didn't hear him come in. I didn't think I had fallen asleep, but maybe I had. Or maybe my mind just drifted far enough away from my body to not be aware.

The thought scares me, but not in the way it probably should. It means I left myself open to danger, which anyone in my position would be freaked out by - and I am, a little. It’s just not the safety of my body that I’m really worried about. It’s the safety of my mind.

What if one day it drifts too far away? What if one day I can't find my way back?

I'll be a ghost for real, then, even if my stubborn heart keeps beating.

“Get some rest, Matty.” There are more fingers in my hair. Quick this time. Light. Just passing by. “I'll make sure I come get you both for dinner, okay?”

He smiles, no more worry or sadness, and I pull my bunny up to cover my mouth so he can't tell I'm not smiling back.

Bittersweet. That was the word I had been trying to remember before. The painful-nice thing that happens in your heart. Bittersweet is what I feel as I watch him walk away.

Chapter Four

Ace

I manage to hit a rhythm as the house begins to settle.

Most of the survivors still here are ones who want to stay a while, the others having left as quickly as they could. It’s not a mystery why. None of them want to be anywhere near Travis or Jake. We can't blame them for that, even if it's frustrating to watch so many leave without letting us help.

There’s a reason undercover operatives never stay at the same safehouse as their victims. They still do recovery, something even Kellan agrees the operatives need in order to process and move on, but they do it in a different safehouse with strangers. Survivors aren’t supposed to have to coexist with their abusers, regardless of how good the abusers’ intentions were. They definitely shouldn’t have to witness a fucking Shakespearean tragedy while trying to do it, either, which is exactly what the Travis-Carter-Maison situation is quickly becoming.

The plan was obviously for Travis and Jake to work their mandatory recovery in a safehouse out in Pennsylvania, alongside two operatives who have years of experience and agroup of survivors who would have no idea Travis and Jake had ever been masters.

Carter changed that plan when he came along, of course. Well, more accurately, Carter changed the plan when he fell for Travis. Or when Travis fell for him. Or maybe when he asked us to save his friend Casey. Or maybe when Jake and Casey got attached to each other.

The exact moment doesn’t really matter. What matters is that the protocol changed. Promises were made. Promises to stick together. Promises to work things out.

So here they all are. One big dysfunctional family, with Maison and Travis already playing tug-of-war over Carter while Carter plays tug-of-war with himself. There may only be a few survivors remaining, but the ones who stayed are slowly starting to settle into things. They're at leasttryingto, which is a big step on its own.

For my part, I’ve organized all of the files, sent in reports, triple-checked each list, and even had time to take a few power naps. I’ve been productive amid chaos and horrors. I’ve made quick decisions and haven’t lost a single person - survivor or operative. I’ve started filling my corkboards, using the pre-captivity photos Travis had placed in his files whenever he was able to track down identities himself.

I'm keeping a tight hold on everything, my finger firmly on the pulse of a dozen situations at any given time. While everyone else is finding their footing, everyone else is a mess, it's my job to be the anchor in the storm. They can spiralbecauseI'm keeping it together for them.

I’ve even forced myself to leave my office more than necessary, drinking coffee with Jake in the morning or trading lighthearted banter with Maison. I actually got Travis to smile. I managed to keep avoiding any direct contact with Adam, subsequently avoiding him trapping me into a therapeutic conversation I haveno desire to endure. I showed one of the survivors how to work the laundry machines, not saying anything about the bedding he’d hurriedly hidden to the side of the washer when I’d entered the room. I put lasagna in the oven just a little while ago - enough for everyone, even if we probably have a long way to go before we’ll all be able to sit and eat as a group.

It’s a start. All of it is a start.