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“Code?”
“7134.”
“Hold.”
Maison answers immediately, clearly having been waiting. It’d be amusing hownotnonchalant he is when he says, “Hey man, what’s up?” if Nathan wasn’t having the awful night he’s having.
Nathan gets a glimpse of himself in the mirror on accident.
He quickly turns away.
Nathan cuts to the chase, not bothering to pretend Maison actually wants to chit-chat for a while. “Carter is okay.”
There is a heavy, relieved sigh on Maison’s end of the phone. “What happened? How bad-”
“Henley is going to work with us,” Nathan says in a cold, even tone as he cuts his best friend off. He needs to get this out. Get this over with. “He’s agreed to the plan we pitched. He’ll be at the event this weekend and will approach Miller there.”
After a pause that Nathan is sure Maison uses to consider whether or not he’s going to allow the sudden topic shift, Maison asks, “You trust him?”
“Nope. But compared to most of the others in this world, I at least trust that he’s truly on our side. He seemed eager.”
“What did he do to Carter?”
Nathan looks at the door separating him from the boy, gripping the phone tight enough to hurt his hand. “Carter is okay. He’s safe.”
“Nate…”
“I’m sorry.” Nathan squeezes his eyes shut, trying to breathe. Trying not to fucking breakdown. Henevercries. He got this job in the first place partially because of how well he’s able to compartmentalize his emotions. “I can’t, Mais. Not tonight. I – I can’t.”
“Okay. I trust you.”
“He’s-” Nathan slaps a hand down on the countertop, gritting his teeth. He hates this. He fuckinghatesthis. “I can’t do this much longer, Mais. I can barely fucking look at him half the time. It makes me sick.”
There’s a long pause before Maison says, “Good.”
Nathan huffs. “Good?”
“Yeah. If this wasn’t hard for you, it’d mean you’re not the man I thought you were, and that would fucking suck because the man I see you as is a man I trust with my brother, even if the choices you’re forced to make fucking suck. But a man who doesn’t feel sick at the end of a day like today? I wouldn’t want that man anywhere near my baby brother. Carter is safest with you, even if it doesn’t feel like it.”
“No.” Nathan hangs his head. “No, I’m going to break him. I can feel it. I can’t save him from this world. He’s so good, Mais. He’s too fucking good to be here. There has to be a better way. I don’t want to ruin him.”
“It’s going to be okay, Nathan. You’ve got this. You’ve gothim. I know you do.”
Nathan huffs. “How? How do you know?”
“Because I can hear it,” Maison says with a strange amusement in his voice. “I can hear it when you talk about him.”
“Hear what?”
Maison chuckles. “Get some sleep, Nate. Go hold my baby brother for the both of us. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”
Before Nathan can question Maison further, the asshole has hung up on him, leaving Nathan reeling with cryptic questions thrumming in his mind. He stares at his reflection for a long time as if it holds the answers. When nothing happens beside his self-loathing deepening, he splashes water on his face and heads back into the bedroom to try and force his body to get a few hours of rest.
Carter is fast asleep, curled up on his side with the moose tucked under his chin. Nathan leans his shoulder against one of the wooden bedposts. He sticks his hands in his pockets, letting himself just appreciate the view of the boy safe in his bed, wearing his shirt, looking every bit as beautiful and innocent as he had in the first picture Nathan ever saw of him. He’s thankful for the dim lighting, knowing if there was any more light in the room he’d have to see the boy’s bruising cheek and puffy lips, and probably that bare shoulder with the bite mark too. He can pretend right now that Carter is okay. He can pretend that Nathan is a man who can save him.
Just seconds after Nathan has settled down on the mattress, Carter surprises him by asking in a tiny, vulnerable voice, “Was the slave you used tonight better than me, Master?”
Feeling his heart fucking shatter, Nathan turns onto his side and reaches out, touching Carter’s bare wrist with his fingertips. Carter doesn’t pull away. It feels like such a monumental win. “Of course not. You’re the best I’ve ever had, sweetheart.”
