Rye’s expression tightened, but at least Jake saw recognition in it, and that seemed like a win. Rye closed his eyes again, and his whole body shuddered. “J-Jake.”
It wasn’t a question or even a statement, really, but Jake nodded. “Yeah, yeah, I’m here. You’re okay.” Slowly, Jake glanced back over his shoulder toward the building. Nancy still stood outside, just under the awning, her arms hugging her body as she watched the two of them. He gave her another tight smile and a nod, then turned back to Rye, who had started to push himself up off the pavement with shaky arms that suddenly seemed too weak to hold him up.
“Are you okay now?” Jake asked quietly, and it wasn’t what he really wanted to ask, but he couldn’t form all the words he wanted to anyway.
Rye was biting his lower lip, and he resettled himself on the ground with his knees bent up, facing Jake. Then he buried his head in his knees, and his body shook even more. “N-no. No, I’m... I’m not okay.”
Something rough and uncomfortable rippled through Jake, and he shook his head lightly. “I’m so sorry, Rye. I have no idea what happened,” he admitted, “but I’m here with you now, and you’re safe. Okay?”
“I... I can’t...” Rye lifted his eyes then, and he stared at Jake, the deep blue of his irises holding so, so much pain.
It forced all the air from Jake’s lungs.
He softened his expression and shook his head ever so slightly. “It’s okay. It’s okay.”
Rye’s gaze shifted up a little and over Jake’s shoulder, and that wild look flickered in his eyes for the briefest of moments before he grimaced and buried his head back into his knees.
. . . Nancy?
“Do you know Nancy?” Jake asked slowly. But as soon as he said Nancy’s name, Rye sucked in a harsh, sharp breath and covered his head with his arms again.
And a quiet sob escaped him.
Unsure of exactly how to interpret that, Jake swallowed thickly and glanced back at Nancy. She hadn’t moved, and he assumed she hadn’t heard Jake’s question.
“I... don’t know h-her,” Rye said in between rough, shuddering breaths.
Jake shifted his focus back to Rye and nodded, even though he knew Rye wasn’t watching him. Rain dripped down Rye’s forehead, and Jake reached up and wiped it away before it could fall into Rye’s eyes, making sure to keep his movements slow and measured. He frowned as the rain began to fall harder, the skies opening up in a sudden downpour that drowned out even the sound of his own heart pounding in his chest.
Rye seemed to tense up, but didn’t move.
And Jake squeezed his eyes shut for a second, pushing away memories of another rainy morning, a mad dash across a beach, a young man’s nearly lifeless figure, cold and wet and unmoving. Before he realized what he was doing, he was unzipping his coat, and he carefully slipped his arms out.
“Here, Rye, I don’t want you to get sick. It’s cold,” he said, speaking just loud enough that he hoped Rye could hear him over the rain. Then, biting back a grunt of pain as he scooted over, he slowly reached out, settled his coat over Rye’s back, and lifted up the hood to cover Rye’s head.
Rye shook his head, though he didn’t move. “You’ll . . . be cold. I-I shouldn’t . . .”
“It’s okay,” Jake reassured him, and he let his hand linger on Rye’s back. “Can we move under the awning or back inside, though?” He heard his own voice shaking, and he hoped Rye didn’t.
Rye kept his head down, his forehead pressed against his knees, but Jake saw him nod, and he sucked in a sharp breath against the wave of relief that hit him.
“Okay, great.” Jake knew he wasn’t going to be graceful in any way when he stood, so he just reached for his cane and tried his best to push himself to his feet without making any sudden movements or noises. He didn’t really succeed, but Rye didn’t seem to react one way or another, and when Jake had stood and straightened up, Rye still hadn’t moved.
“Rye? Please, I...” Fear rattled him, and when Rye looked back up, Jake couldn’t hide it anymore. “Please come out of the rain. I’m worried about you. Please.” He wanted to reach out and offer Rye his hand, but he felt too unsteady on his feet, and so he just motioned to the building. “Please, let’s go inside.”
Rye blinked and looked past Jake again, and then he squeezed his eyes shut, nodded, and slowly pushed himself to his feet. Jake’s stomach lurched as he noticed Rye’s ripped jeans—a new tear just above the knee—and a faint splotchy redness on Rye’s palms. Rye quickly stuffed his hands under his arms and limped slightly as he and Jake made their way toward the building. Nancy had propped open the double doors, and by the time Jake and Rye stepped under the awning, she was back inside, picking up the box Rye had dropped.
The rain still fell hard, loudly, and the sound was even louder under the awning. But Rye stopped there anyway, his eyes dark as he stared at the door to the building.
“We can stay outside if you need to,” Jake said. “Or, um, we can—”
“Can w-we leave?” Rye cut in. He shuffled backward a step. Not far, not much, but something about the prospect of going back inside obviously had him starting to panic all over again. He dropped his hands from under his arms and clasped them together in front of him. “I-I want to... I want to go home. Please.”
“Of course, of course, yeah,” Jake said immediately. “Whatever you need, okay?” He shifted his focus to Nancy for just a minute. She was standing, holding the box, watching the exchange, and Jake gave her a tight smile. “I’m going to take Rye home. I prepaid for the shipping online. Priority Express.”
Nancy nodded kindly, and her gaze lingered on Rye for another second before she spoke. “Got it. Thank you, Jake, and take care!”
Soaking wet and cold, Jake turned back around toward his car. Rye was already on his way, still limping slightly, Jake’s coat hanging over his shoulders and halfway down to his knees. With a shuddering breath, Jake followed.
