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“Go,” I whisper, my eyes going back to Carter. “Take care of him.”
Jake hesitates, but then listens, his arm wrapped tightly around Carter as he guides him away from me and toward his room. He’s murmuring to him again, his lips nearly brushing the shell of Carter’s ear. Maison walks past me right after, not even looking at me. I swallow the second wave of emotion threatening to overwhelm me and decide to go to the kitchen instead of following them.
Carter is their priority. I get that. He’s mine too, really. But since they have him handled, I should check on Nolan. I’ve always been better at that, anyway. Taking care of others.
It’s a hell of a lot easier than taking care of myself.
Carter doesn’t seem to come up for air the rest of the time Travis is gone. I leave him food and bottles of water outside his door from time to time, knocking to let him know they’re there before telling him I’ll give him space, so he’s not worried I’ll be waiting for him when he opens the door. I get a little closer to the other survivors - partly because it helps to focus on them instead of the mass of emotions pressing down on my chest, and partly because Jake leaves me alone whenever he sees me with one and I’ve been avoiding Jake like it’s an Olympic sport.
That’s why I almost don’t answer my door when someone knocks on it in the morning, figuring it’s Jake. He had asked if I wanted to sleep in his room last night and I had turned him down. He had asked if I wanted him to come to mine instead, and I’d done the same. If it bothered him that I didn’t even meet his eyes the whole time, he didn’t say anything, just quietly telling me he was there if I changed my mind. The issue is that every time that I see him, his voice saying little one to Carter echoes in my ears, taunting me. Maybe DuGray was right. I’m not special. I’m not worthy of being loved or cared for. It won’t be me and Jake forever. It’ll be Jake doing his job and me being all alone.
Which I can handle, I think. As long as I don’t have to look at Jake. Or hear Jake. Or smell Jake. Or think about Jake.
So, I almost don’t answer the door, for obvious reasons. But then the watery voice of my best friend calls, “Casey?” and I’m up on my feet. I quickly gather all of my blankets and pillows off the floor, tossing them onto the mattress before he can see that I’m so fucked up I can’t sleep on my own bed. Then I tug the door open and give him a carefully constructed smile.
He bursts into tears, his body falling forward for me to catch. I wrap him up in my arms, startled but going with it.
“What’s wrong?” I ask, leading him into my room and sitting him on the bed beside me.
He leans against me as he blurts out an information overload. I try to piece together the nonlinear events, learning that Mica is dead, Travis is back, they spent the night together, and Carter has decided he wants to leave the safehouse. He and Travis want to choose each other because they want each other, not because they feel like they need each other. To be able to do that, they need space.
Travis is encouraging him to go off and become the new version of himself without Travis, so that if they do end up together again, Carter will be his own person. Carter cries harder at that, but I think it’s actually a pretty smart idea. I saw the way Carter was the last two times Travis left. If they’re ever going to be healthy together, Carter has to be able to stand on his own first.
I can feel him wavering by the time he’s done crying, not so sure if leaving is the right move anymore. But I think it is. And I think maybe I know how to help both of us. He needs someone to do this with him - someone that’s not Travis - and I need to find a desire to live that isn’t linked to Jake.
I wrap my arms around my best friend again, making my decision. “I’ll come with you.”
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Jake
“No.”
Travis and Carter exchange a look before Travis carefully tells me, “It’s not exactly your choice.”
“No,” I repeat. Then, “Where is he?”
“He’s talking to Ace about getting his fake ID and stuff,” Carter informs me.
I push past the two of them, my hands shaking at my sides as I storm through the house toward Ace’s office. I can hear Travis and Carter behind me, Travis saying something about choices and respecting them. I ignore him. Just because he’s willing to risk losing his boy doesn’t mean I’m willing to risk losing mine.
Ace’s office door is locked. I growl, too upset to bother with unlocking it myself. I just pound my fist against the door and bark for him to open up. Travis puts a hand on my shoulder, but I shrug him off and shoot him a glare that actually makes him step back.
The door opens, Ace standing there with Casey hovering behind him. Casey’s eyebrows pull in when he sees me, like he’s confused why I’m upset. How could he possibly be confused? How could he possibly think it’s a good idea to leave?
“I need to talk to you,” I tell him, ignoring everyone else.
Casey swallows hard, his eyes darting around before settling on the floor. “There’s nothing to say.”
“I. Need. To. Talk. To. You,” I say, each word sharp and desperate. “Please.”
“You don’t have to,” Carter says from behind me.
“No, you don’t,” I agree. I give him a pleading look, my heart racing. “But… please.”
Casey nods slowly. “Okay. But not here.”
“No. Not here.” I nod my head in the direction of my room. He nods, stepping past Ace and falling into step beside me. My hands won’t stop shaking, so I clench them into fists. There are a million things I want to say, but none of them feel right. How am I going to fix this?
