Page 20 of The Sound of Him

“Nolan is slowly but surely getting more comfortable. Made a damn good breakfast for the house. Even went around and gotall the survivors to come out of hiding to eat.” I don’t mention that he’s already had two pretty big breakdowns, once because of a broken plate and the other because of Travis. Keaton doesn’t need to hear that side of things. “He and Matt are sticking close together. They’re roommates.”

“Yeah? Good. Matt talk yet?”

I sigh. “I don’t know. I don’t think so? Not out in the open, at least. I’ve told Adam and Deacon that I don’t want to know anything they learn about the survivors unless it’s life-threatening. It feels weird getting reports on them when I’m living with them, you know? It’s a line I don’t want crossed. He’s got good friends here, though. A good support system. They’re already practicing sign language with him, from what I’ve seen.”

I realize that’s too close to mentioning Bryce Jacobson, so I quickly veer to a new subject. “Casey hasn’t really made friends with the others yet, but it’s not like we’ve been here very long. There’s time. He and Carter will warm up to everyone soon enough, I think. In the meantime, they’ve got each other, and Casey has the pool. He’s in the thing as often as he can be. He’s one of the last to not see the doctor, but I have a feeling Jake is working on convincing him.”

“How’s he doing? Jake, I mean.”

How is Jake doing?

Jake is… split in two, trying to be there for the ones he cares about without smothering them - Casey especially - while still trying to help me. We were supposed to be pillars together post-operation, knowing Maison and Travis would be caught up in Carter more than anything.

All it took was a single look at Jake when he showed up here and asked where Casey was for me to realize I was going to be on my own instead.

“Jake’s hanging in there,” I tell him. “He’s keeping busy. Seems to have gotten pretty damn attached to Casey. He’s rarelyfar away from the man, whether that means having to join him in the water or just sit nearby. I’m pretty sure Casey’s equally attached, at least. I’ll keep an eye on it. Or maybe ask Adam to. He’s better at that stuff. The last thing we need is another Travis and Carter situation on our hands.”

His laugh is a little too tight at that. “How’s Mais?”

“Maison is - well, he’s a fucking mess, honestly. But I think he’ll be alright. Hewillbe alright,” I correct with as much conviction as possible. Maybe if I believe it - if I can makehimbelieve it - it’ll have no choice but to become true. “He seems to have made a friend, actually. Nolan, of all people.”

He makes a noise that I can’t interpret. “Didn’t see that one coming.”

“I think it’ll be good for him. Nolan is as removed as anyone here can really get from the worst of Maison’s mess, you know? He’s like Switzerland. Not an operative who’s friends with Travis, or a survivor that’s close to Carter. Maybe they’ll be able to lean on each other a little. Plus, I caught Maison coming out of Adam’s office a while ago, so that’s progress, right?”

I don’t mention that he looked like he was on the verge of a complete breakdown when I saw him. Some facts are better left out of Keaton’s overanxious mind.

That same overanxious mind that counters my optimistic update with the question, “Has he seen Deacon yet?”

“No, I don’t think so. But we expected him to be a stubborn idiot about that, remember? I trust Jake’s analysis that he shouldn’t have any serious injuries from his time with them. I trust his dedication to being here for Carter even more. No way he’s hiding something that’ll kill him. Everything else is… well, he’s an operative. I know how you operatives can be about injuries.”

That last part, said a little teasingly, at least gets him to let out a breathy almost-laugh. “Careful, Ace. You’ll sound like Kellan.”

“I would need to be far more exasperated to pull that off, but I’ll watch myself.”

It’s a light-hearted moment, something we don’t share often these days.

It doesn’t last.

“How’s Travis?”

“Travis is…”

“Don’t sugarcoat it,” he says when I don’t continue, the words probably meant to be authoritative, like an order. That’s hard to pull off when his voice is trembling, though. “Just say it, Ace.”

“It’s not bad. Not more than the others, really. Just hard to explain? I guess the best way to put it is that Travis is doing however Carter is doing.”

He exhales. When I close my eyes, I can see the cigarette smoke that’d be curling in the air. Then he asks, “And how is Carter doing?”

“Depends. He’s on a fucking seesaw. Poor kid’s emotions change by the hour. By the half-hour, even. He’s pissed. Grieving. In love. In hate. Sometimes he’s clinging to Travis and sometimes he’s doing just about anything he can to avoid him. Travis feeds off of that. He pretends he doesn’t, but he’s kind of fucking awful at it. Like, to the point where I’m not sure how this man pulled off such a massive, decade-long operation.”

“Love will fuck with you like that.”

Only seven words, and yet so much fucking heartbreak.

“So, yeah,” I say like an awkward idiot, biting down on my lip to keep the rambling from starting. He’ll know for sure that something is up if I ramble.

Except he knows what’s up. We both do. We know who we haven’t covered yet. Who I’m avoiding.