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“Woah.” Maison laughs dryly. “Never said I had a problem.”
“I saved your brother’s life,” Travis growls.
“Trav-” I start, reaching out to calm him. It’s been my job for a decade. If I could just- but Travis waves me off, shoving away from the table and standing.
He points a finger at Maison, his hand trembling. “I saved Carter. I became a fucking monster for you even though I fucking begged you not to make me. And yeah, okay Maison, I fucking fell in love with him. You think I meant to? You think that was fucking fun for me? You think I enjoy the fact that after spending over a week living in a shit-pit with a motherfucker who has terrible taste in chewing gum and likes talking about feelings that the first thing I wanted to do when coming home was track that boy down and hold him? You think it’s funny that I couldn’t eat or enjoy a nice cold beer because for the first time ever I heard a man I love laugh freely and loudly and smile so fucking wide I didn't recognize him? You think that’s fun? Or creepy?”
Oof.
Maison looks properly chastised, his eyes darting around the table as he rubs at the back of his neck. The remaining survivors look extremely uncomfortable, Nolan looking like he might slide right off his chair to hide under the table. Casey’s eyes are wide as he darts them back and forth between Maison and Travis like he’s waiting for more, probably ready to soak it all in to relay to Carter. I almost smile. Who knew my little one likes gossip?
Maison tries apologizing, but Travis shuts it down before apologizing to the others at the table and excusing himself. I call after him, worried he’s about to run off and spend the night beating himself up, but he ignores me.
I sigh, running a hand over my face before turning to look at Maison. “It’s not his fault that Carter won’t forgive you, Maison. You have to fucking stop.”
Maison’s jaw clenches. “It’s not that. He’s done enough damage. He needs to leave Carter the fuck alone so Carter can have a fighting chance to fucking heal.”
“That’s Carter’s decision to make,” Casey says, surprising the hell out of the both of us. He narrows his eyes on Maison, and I get a glimpse of the man I bet Casey used to be. The brave, strong, no-shit-accepted man that’s now stuck behind layers of trauma and fear. “If Carter wants to keep fucking Travis, he should get to. The only two people who get to decide he can’t are him and Travis. You’re done pulling strings. You’re not in charge anymore.”
Maison huffs, anger coming off him in waves. It’s not anger toward Casey, though. More like anger at the truth of Casey’s words. A truth that Maison doesn’t want to admit to himself.
Casey stands up, and I realize he’s now shaking. His eyes have fallen to the table. He’s losing his old self, all of his trauma collapsing in on him again. “I just think - he deserves to-”
Casey shakes his head before turning around and hurrying off, nearly tripping over one of the chairs that wasn't pushed in after someone left the table. I stand too, but pause long enough to look at Maison. His eyes are closed, his elbow on the table and his forehead against his palm. “What I think Casey was going to say is that Carter deserves to make his own decisions right now. Your job is to support him.”
Maison doesn’t respond, the only indication that he even heard me being the twitch of his jaw as he clenches it.
I let it go, remembering that Casey is my number one priority. The rest of them can figure their shit out together. I need to make sure my boy is okay.
My boy.
Yeah, I like the sound of that. Maybe… a little too much.
When I knock on Casey’s bedroom door, he quickly calls, “Jake?” in a shaky voice full of so much hope I feel it in my damn chest.
“Yeah, it’s-” before I can finish, the door is yanked open and his tear-soaked face is inches away from me. I step forward, loving that he doesn’t move back, and cradle his face in my hands. My thumbs immediately start chasing away his tears as I hush him. “You’re okay, little one. That was so good. You were so brave.”
He sucks in a shaky breath before pressing forward and wrapping his arms tight around me, fingers digging almost painfully into my back. I move us just enough to be able to shut the door with my foot before guiding him over to his bed and sitting on the mattress, pulling him into my lap. He shifts so his arms are around my neck now, his face pressed to my throat. He’s trembling, but the crying has seemed to stop. “I thought he was going to hit me. He looked so mad.”
“He was mad about the situation, not mad at you,” I promise him, rubbing his back in slow circles. I realize he’s in my sweatshirt. I’m thankful he’s not looking at me, because the realization conjures a shit-eating grin on my face that I have no hope of fighting. Did he put it on the minute he got in here, needing it for comfort? I force myself to focus. “Maison would never hit you. No one here would. I promise you’re safe here, little one.”
“I know.” He seems to hold me tighter though, like maybe he logically knows, but can’t quite get himself to believe it. “Can we go to bed? I know it’s early…”
“We can.” I rearrange him in my lap until I can look at his face. I cup his cheek and give him a smile that makes him blush. Fuck, that’s lovely. I want to kiss the pink skin but remind myself I’m definitely not allowed to do that. “I need to go get some comfortable clothes from my room. Your dolphin is still in there too. Then I’ll be back, okay?”
“Promise?” he whispers.
I smile, then let myself kiss his forehead - that’s allowed, isn’t it?
Casey seems pleased with it, so I decide it is. “Promise.”
I wake up feeling disoriented and anxious. My chest is tight, my heart pounding like I’m in danger somehow. I quickly look over at Casey, relief chasing away the anxiety when I see him curled up with his back to me, his arms wrapped tightly around his dolphin, his messy hair sprawled across his pillow.
Then I hear it - what probably woke me up, the tones making me anxious even before I awoke. Two people are yelling in the hall. Two people I know too well. Two people whose heads I’m going to smash together if they don’t get their shit in order soon.
“Why do you get my brother and I don’t? Why is it you he cares about?”
“I don’t know! But-”
