He glances away for a second and I see the slow roll of his throat as he swallows and then speaks. "I respect what you're doing for your brother, Sloan," he says. "But what good are you going to be to him if you end up dead? That house isn't safe for you. Asa isn't safe for you."
I sigh and wipe away a rogue tear. "I do what I'm able to do, Carter. I can't afford to worry about the what if's."
His eyes follow the tear down my cheek and then he lifts a hand to my face and wipes it away.
Of all the tears I've cried to Asa, he's never once attempted to wipe them away.
"Come here," Carter says, taking hold of my hand. He pulls me toward him as he scoots closer to me. I look down at his hand, holding on to mine, and I attempt to pull it back. He squeezes it and grabs my elbow with his other hand. "Come here," he whispers soothingly, pulling me closer. He wraps his arms around me and guides my head to his shoulder. He squeezes me tightly, cradling my head with one of his hands. He presses his warm cheek against the top of my head and he holds me.
That's all he does.
He doesn't make excuses. He doesn't lie and tell me everything will be okay, because we both know it won't. He doesn't make promises he won't be able to keep like Asa does. He just holds me out of nothing more than a simple desire to bring me comfort—and it's the first time I've ever felt this.
I scoot closer and relax against him, listening to the sound of his heart beating rapidly inside his chest. I close my eyes and try to imagine a time in my crazy, fucked up life that I've ever felt cared about, but I come up empty. I've been living on this earth for twenty years, and this is the first time I feel like someone actually gives a shit.
I clench his shirt in my fists and try again to scoot even closer to him, wanting to curl up inside of him and relish in this feeling forever. He lifts his cheek and his lips press lightly against the top of my head.
We remain clasped together, holding on to each other as if the fate of the world depends on this embrace.
The thin layer of his shirt is damp from the tears that are pouring down my cheeks. I don't even know why I'm crying. Maybe it's because, until this moment, I had no idea what it felt like to be valued. What it felt like to be respected. Until this moment, I had no idea what it felt like to feel cared for.
No one should have to experience a life never feeling truly cared for—not even by the parents who created them. Yet I've lived that for twenty years now.
Until this moment.
CARTER-16
Chapter 16
Carter
I close my eyes and continue to hold her while she quietly cries against my chest. I hold her until dusk turns into dark and what was left of the light is engulfed by a blanket of stars.
I hold her until I hear a car about to turn on the street. I glance up, but they turn and go in the opposite direction. She remains pressed against my shirt, but the thought of Asa or even Dalton seeing me with her right now is at the forefront of my mind.
I shouldn't be here comforting her. It can only cause more problems for her.
Because she's right. I can't save her. As much as I want to, we're both stuck. I can't risk ruining something that is so much bigger than just the two of us. I can't sacrifice what it is I'm here to do for the sake of helping her leave. That's something she'll have to do on her own and when she's financially able.
And every moment I hold her, every time I touch her hair, every time I grab her hand, every time I sit next to her in class, every time I put her in more and more of these harmless situations—I'm pushing her closer and closer to the edge of a cliff. If I don't figure out how to back away from her...I'll end up watching her fall.
I release my hold from around her and pull back, but she remains clutched to my shirt. I grab her hands and pull them away from me. She lifts her head and looks up at me, her eyes as red and swollen as I suddenly wish her lips were.
Stop thinking like this, Luke.
I stand up and she grabs at my shirt to pull me back, confusion rampant in her eyes.
"Let go," I whisper.
Her hands fall to her lap and she breaks our stare. She pulls her feet up onto the bench and hugs the top of her knees, crying into her arms. Walking away from her is about to take all the strength I have.
"You're right, Sloan," I say as I back away from her. "I can't save you."
I turn around and begin walking back to my car, each step harder than the last. I don't turn around when I open the door. I climb inside the car and drive to her house without once looking back.
When I walk through the front door, I can tell by the state of the living room and the noise from the backyard that this is going to be a long night.
I make my way through the house and to the backyard. There are several people scattered around. No one even looks up when I walk outside. There are four girls in the pool putting on a spectacle. Two of the girls have the other two girls perched up on their shoulders and they're trying to knock each other off into the water. Jon and Dalton are standing beside the pool, beers in hand, cheering for whomever they've bet on.