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Matt answers. He looks over his shoulder, which means Nolan is behind him. He doesn’t tell Nolan who it is, which means Nolan was expecting it to be me. He steps forward until I’m forced to step back, which means Nolan doesn’t want to talk to me. Fuck.
“Is he okay?” I ask, my throat so damn tight I barely manage to get the words out.
Matt shrugs. He does the name sign he created for Nolan—the N letter sign followed by the flip-flop hand that means cook. Nolan was so excited when he created it, showing me over and over again with a goofy grin. With the dead-eyed look Matt is giving me, I have a feeling my name sign probably consists of the sign for asshole.
Matt follows the name sign with something I don’t understand, his hand moving on his belly before turning over.
“I’m sorry,” I say at the same time as signing it, which is what Nolan told me I should do when I talk to him. It’s supposed to help both of us get better. I don’t know many signs, but I do it with the words I’m able. “I don’t know what that one means.” I repeat the movement with the belly and hand turning over that he just did. “Can you spell it? Slowly?”
He spells with his hand, U-P-S-E-T.
“Nolan’s upset?” I clarify, doing Nolan’s name sign and the stomach hand-flip that apparently means upset. He nods while narrowing his eyes at me. He doesn’t have to use signs to tell me it’s my fault. Your fault, your fault, your fault. “Why?”
For a man who doesn’t talk, his expressions say an awful lot. This one says are you fucking serious and you’re an idiot. Then he signs, doctor.
“I’ll go,” I tell him. “But with Carter leaving—”
Matt stops me with a wave of his hand, then gestures as if to say, see? Then Nolan and upset again.
I release a sigh. “I want to talk to him.”
He shakes his head.
“Matt…”
He shakes his head again, then signs more and upset. Then shakes his head again. He doesn’t want me to make Nolan even more upset. I get that. I hate it, but I get it. I should leave him be for now, go get Carter settled, then come back and fix this. He wants space. I should respect that. I’ve gotten a lot of fucking practice at respecting that request.
“Tell him I’ll be here when he’s ready to talk to me then. Tell him I’m not going anywhere.”
Matt just eyes me for a moment before notching his chin in acknowledgement. He doesn’t move away or open the door, clearly waiting for me to leave. There’s nothing left for me to do but walk away.
***
Despite being pretty much at emotional capacity, I jump at the opportunity to drive alone with Carter while Jake and Casey take a separate vehicle that the boys will keep in town. The car ride is tense and quiet, but I force myself to let it be that way. He’s been begging me for space and time and I’m determined to give it to him. Especially since I have no doubt him having to be around me at the safe house is part of the reason he’s chosen to leave it.
Still, I’m me—I can’t say nothing.
I go with the biggest thing I want to say, apart from the apology he doesn’t want to hear. “I’m very proud of you.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.” I glance over at him before focusing back on the road. He looks so small. So sad. My poor baby brother. “This was a good decision, I think. It’ll be good for you to get some space from everything.”
Space from me.
“Wait,” he growls, the sudden shift in tone catching me completely off guard. “Are you who told him to do it?”
“Told who to do what?” I ask incredulously.
“Travis. Did you tell him to let me go? To send me off or whatever? To tell me to—to be free?”
Oh.
Oh.
I shake my head slowly as the realization takes root. “I should’ve known that’d be why you’re leaving. No, little brother, I didn’t tell him to do that. But I’m very glad he did.”
He seems to deflate, his voice sounding small and tired when he speaks again. “He’s convinced I’m not free yet. That I’m still trapped here. Or there, I guess. At the safe house. With him.”
