“I have to go. The sibling I mentioned earlier—the child you’ve asked me about before? He’s my brother, my little half-brother. I’ve been taking care of him for three years. He-he has some issues, and I don’t have time to explain everything now, but he’s at his first sleepover tonight, and he woke up from a nightmare, and I have to see him and make sure he’s all right.”
“Carter.” Reed walked over and put his arms around him. For a moment Carter allowed himself to sink into Reed’s embrace. It felt so good to be held for once. To allow someone to carry the weight with him and tell him maybe it would be all right.
“Take a breath. Slow down. It’s okay.” Reed’s fingers tangled in the hair curling at the nape of his neck, and Carter breathed against Reed’s shoulder, feeling Reed’s strength in the tenderness of his touch and the play of muscles underneath his skin. “Stop talking; let’s get dressed, and we’ll go. Okay?” Carter allowed himself a smile against Reed’s shoulder.
“You’re getting kind of bossy. I like it.”
“I had a good teacher. He taught me to go after what I wanted and never take no for an answer.”
Carter cupped Reed’s chin. “I don’t think I could say no to you anymore.”
“Good.” Reed kissed his palm. “I’ll be ready in a second.”
They dressed and left the hotel, catching a cab idling near the hotel entrance. Carter automatically gave Michelle’s address, then leaned back in the seat, his heart pounding from a combination of worry and tension. Was Jacks scared waking up in a strange place in the dark, thinking Carter had finally abandoned him? He’d never forgive himself if that proved to be true.
Probably understanding his need to be inside his head, Reed said nothing on the way to Brooklyn. Instead he held Carter’s hand until the cab pulled up in front of the wood-framed house.
“Go on inside; I’ll take care of it.”
Carter squeezed his hand and ran out of the cab, taking the front steps two at a time. Not wanting to wake up the other children, Carter tapped lightly on the glass front of the wooden door, hoping Michelle would hear him. Within a few seconds the door opened and he faced a man in his mid-thirties, his sandy-blond hair looking like he’d spent the better part of his night running his hands through it. But his eyes behind his tortoiseshell glasses were kind, and Carter instantly warmed to him as a man he could trust.
“Carter? Hi, I’m Evan, Michelle’s husband. Come on in.”
He heard steps behind him and paused a moment, waiting for Reed to catch up.
“Hi. This is Reed.”
Evan walked down the long center hall, beckoning them to follow. From his last time there, Carter remembered the big modern kitchen took up the whole back of the house. He hurried after Evan, with Reed falling into step right behind him.
The sight greeting him when he entered the kitchen hurt his heart. Sitting at the table, huddled under a Superman comforter, Jacks held on to a big mug, his face pale and sad. When Carter walked in, he set the mug on the table and ran to him, flinging himself in Carter’s arms.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it. I’m really sorry.” His voice came out muffled, buried in the thick of Carter’s jacket, but Carter heard his words. He always heard Jacks.
Carter held on to his slight, trembling frame, clad only in a T-shirt and sleep pants. Michelle wordlessly handed him the comforter, and Carter tucked it around Jacks’s narrow shoulders. From the beginning when Jacks first came to live with him, he’d reminded Carter of a wounded baby bird; fragile yet desperate for survival.
“Shhh. You didn’t do anything wrong. Everyone has bad dreams sometimes. Even me.”
“You do?” Jacks gazed up at him. “But you’re old. What are you scared of?”
Everything,Carter wanted to say.Failing you, failing in my business. Thinking back on earlier in the evening and the talk he had with Reed, Carter swallowed hard at the thought of how close he’d come to failing Reed and losing him for good. Of course he didn’t yet know Reed’s reaction to Jacks, and how or even if he’d fit into the family dynamic where Jacks and his needs would have to come first.
“I worry about you.”
Jacks pulled away from him and straightened his shoulders in an attempt to act grown up. Carter’s heart squeezed watching his little brother’s struggle for independence.
“You don’t have to. I’m almost eleven.” In a smaller voice he said, “And I’m getting better, right? The doctor said I was.”
Oh, God, if he fucked this all up, he’d never forgive himself. Where did he come off thinking he could be responsible for another human being when he’d made such a mess of his own life? But he was, and Jacks needed him.
“You are, buddy. You’re doing great, and I’m so proud of you. But no matter what, I love you, you know that, right?” He smoothed Jacks’s hair off his face. “Nothing will ever change that.”
“Okay, but…” he bit his lip and rubbed his eyes, stifling a yawn.
“You need to get back to sleep, buddy. It’s way too late for you to be up.”
“Please, can I stay? I know you came all the way here, but I don’t want to go home.”
Carter hesitated, his urge to circle around Jacks and protect him warring with the knowledge that Jacks needed this independence.
