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“I can do this, okay?” He lifts his chin, giving me a look that’s surprisingly confident and determined. My chest fills with pride, even as my heart starts to splinter. “This is what I’m good at. Taking care of others. It’s how I kept it together before I was sold. I made sure the others in the cell got food and water and rest. I gave them advice on what to do after they were bought to get their best chances at survival. I played little games with the kids and I put myself in front of the others when the guards came to pick someone to bring to their sick fucking playroom. I can barely fucking function these days, but I can do this. I can take care of Carter. I can be there for him while he recovers. And maybe - maybe I’ll recover too. Maybe it’s exactly what I need.”
It’s not.
It’s not what you need at all.
But that’s not my place to say, is it?
Fuck.
“Can we… compromise?”
He tilts his head, seeming to consider it. “And what would that be?”
“When a survivor leaves the safehouse, they’re not allowed to ever come back. They’re not even told where it is, so they can’t find it again if they try. But we’ll tweak the rules here so you and Carter can come back. There has to be a way to make it allowed. And then you can come here once a week? For group therapy? You like group, right?” He nods slowly. “So, group therapy once a week here. And you should keep doing therapy over the phone too, group and one-on-one. It’s good for you.”
“I agree. I already decided to keep seeing Dr. Singh. Carter hates him, but I think maybe he… helps. A little.”
“And check-ins. I need you or Carter to do daily check-ins, so we know you’re okay. I’ll make sure Ace gets you both phones. And I’ll give you my number so we can text and call whenever you need.”
His lips twitch toward a smile. “Okay.”
“Okay.” I take a deep breath, trying to pretend like it’s okay even when it’s not fucking okay at all. “And… one last thing?”
“It depends…”
“Promise me again that you’ll tell me before you do anything.”
He swallows hard, but his eyes don’t dart away and he doesn’t hesitate for long. “I promise.”
It’s not enough. Not nearly enough.
But it has to be.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Casey
The house seems split on me and Carter’s choice to leave. Maison is positively thrilled. Ace is excited for us. So is Bryce. Nolan is… skeptical. Matt stares at us with wide eyes, his muteness somehow feeling even worse than usual. Dr. Singh frowns, but says he’ll be there for us no matter what we choose to do. Jake watches my every move like a hawk as if he’s waiting for me to change my mind. Travis can’t even look at Carter.
By the time we’re set to leave, I’m having major doubts. Part of me is hoping when Carter goes off to his room and Travis follows after him that they’ll come back with an announcement that Carter changed his mind. That’s not what happens, though. Carter shows up with his stuffed moose tight in his hand and red rimmed eyes, his smile watery as he focuses it on me. “Ready?”
No. No, I don’t think I am.
“Ready.”
Maison and Jake are helping us move, Travis staying behind with everyone else. We’re taking two cars so they have one to drive back to the safehouse and we have one with us in the small college town we’re settling in 70 miles away from here. I ask Carter if Jake and I can drive together, even though it means he has to drive with his brother who he’s still not on great terms with. He indulges me. I feel a little guilty about it, but not too much. He and Maison really need to start working on their relationship if Carter is ever going to be able to let go of things and move on.
I can feel Jake’s eyes on me every so often as we drive, just little glances as the vehicle winds through the heavily wooded area the safehouse is hidden in. We’re ten minutes into the drive when he clears his throat and says, “Carter mentioned you wanted to drive with me?”
“Oh. Um. Yeah.” I pick an imaginary fuzzy off my leg. “I guess I wasn’t ready to say goodbye yet.”
“You don’t have to, you know. Say goodbye, I mean. You could come back with me.”
I look out the window, studying the trees as we pass them. The leaves should be changing color any day now. I’ve always loved autumn.
“Sorry,” he murmurs. “I promised myself I wouldn’t try talking you out of this.”
“It’s okay.”
