AllFreeNovel
Share Us
He doesn’t have to ask who I’m talking about. “They’ll be okay, I think. Brothers fight.”
“But they have two hugely different perspectives and I don’t think they’ll ever be able to see each other’s,” I worry out loud.
He politely disagrees, giving me a theory on how they have the same perspective but with different goals. They both blame Maison. Whereas Maison wants to get rid of that blame, free himself of it, Carter is clinging to it because it’s safer to blame Maison than anyone else. Carter doesn’t struggle with the fact that he was kidnapped, tortured, and raped—he struggles with how those moments changed him. He struggles with the person he is now. The person he was made into. That person was created by the decision Maison made not to share the truth with him, to instead make him live in a slave mindset.
“When Carter forgives Maison,” he says. “And I do think he will, when he’s ready—it’ll be because he’s accepted who he is now. It’ll be because he’s happy despite what he’s been through. Maison should stop rushing him. Carter isn’t there yet. He’s not ready.”
I see where he’s coming from, but I also see the way Maison is crumbling. Would Carter be willing to let things go if he knew that every day that passes, his brother loses a little more of his hope? Would he be willing to forgive if he knew the way Maison punishes himself?
Maybe Casey would know?
“I wonder—”
“Fucking talk to me, Carter!” someone yells from the other room. The yell is followed by a loud bang that reminds me of bodies hitting walls and floors. Reminds me of my body hitting walls and floors. I hit the floor of my own free will then, arms around my head to protect from a possible blow.
In the next breath, I unfurl from my defensive ball with the humiliating realization that I’m fine. I’m safe.
I bury my face in my hands, ignoring the smell of lemon and herbs. Will I ever stop reacting like that? Will I ever stop being afraid?
I hear more voices coming from the laundry room now. The laundry room. My stomach twists as I realize that’s where the noises came from.
Where Maison is.
Chapter Thirteen
Maison
Carter is on his knees in front of me, cowering like I’m a master about to hurt him. I hadn’t fucking meant to scare him. I’d just wanted him to give me a chance. To talk to me. To tell me what I can do to fucking fix this between us. I had asked him if I lost him forever and he’d ignored me. The barked demand for him to talk to me just flew out, fueled by my impending panic attack. I think I hit the laundry machine too. My hand stings like I did.
He’s crying now, eyes fixed on the floor. Bile burns my throat.
“Please get up,” I beg, trying to keep the bile from spilling out with the desperate plea. “I didn’t mean—I would never—”
“I know.” He curls further in on himself like he needs protection. Protection from me. His hands come up to hide his face. “Fuck, I know. I didn’t mean to.”
He didn’t mean to kneel. Of course he didn’t. It was a trauma reaction. Fear kicking in and reminding him of his place—the place I let Travis repeatedly put him in until it became second nature.
I lost pieces of myself, Carter’s voice echoes in my mind. Your fault.
I did this to him.
How could I be so selfish as to ask him to forgive me when things are this bad?
“Carter, I—”
“Hey, what’s going on here?” Jake asks from the doorway, interrupting my attempt at telling my brother I’ll finally leave him alone. That I understand now why he hates me. That I don’t think it’s fair to ever ask him to stop.
Carter curls further in on himself at the new presence. Hoping Jake might be able to help, I explain, “I yelled and hit the machine. I—fuck, I scared him.”
“Yeah, we all heard that, asshole.” Jake approaches Carter without hesitation, looking perfectly calm as he squats down and starts running his hands over Carter’s body. Carter doesn’t flinch or cower. In fact, when Jake squeezes the back of his neck and asks, “You okay, little one?” Carter exhales a breath that seems so heavy it’s as if he’s been holding it for weeks instead of seconds.
“Carter?” Jake prompts.
Carter breaks, sobbing openly now. Jake says something so soft I can’t hear. It makes Carter shake his head. Jake seems to reset himself after that, like he’s changing direction. He switches from squeezing the back of his neck like a show of ownership to gently rubbing it like you would to calm someone you care about. He talks gently to Carter, bringing up the laundry and how it’s been a hard day. How maybe he should nap while his clothes wash. He tries to tell Carter not to worry when Carter argues about his stuff, so I explain that he can’t go nap because his blankets and sheets are currently in the washer—it’s what he was stuffing into the machine when he was ignoring me.
Jake still doesn’t get anywhere until he takes a breath and says, “Carter, I think your sir would really like it if you took a nap.”
It feels like the air is sucked out of the room. The words seem to do the very opposite for Carter, though. His whole body settles. Calms.
