He was so tired; he’d exhausted himself worrying about the GED exams, even though he’d passed easily, and although he’d tried to convince himself he was okay with the news they’d received that morning aboutthe manbeing seen in Arizona, he wasn’t really okay.
Jake had encouraged him notto look at the news, and when he’d texted briefly with his mom earlier, they hadn’t even brought it up. Rye understood. He’d also wanted to just forget it. But he couldn’t, and so now, however late it was, he was still lying here in bed, still unable to even let himselftryto sleep for fear of having to relive that very first day.
He turned over onto his side until he could see Jake, who lay on his back, his head tilted in Rye’s direction and his mouth slightly parted in relaxation.
He’d told Jake. Hadn’t he? About the day he’d disappeared? He’d told Jake about it, and Jake had helped him tell the police. But maybe he hadn’t given a lot of detail. He was sure he hadn’t told Jake the man’s exact words, how the man had said,“I know where the fuck you live,”like he’d been watching Rye for a while.
Was the man doing the same in Arizona? Was he... watching young kids leave school? Trying to pick one heliked? Getting ready to steal another childhood? Ruin another life? A cold shiver crept up Rye’s spine, and he whimpered as the memory he’d been avoiding for hours replayed. And then replayed again and again.
And it was like he just couldn’t get away from it. Like he was trapped there, in that moment, in that awful decision, in thatcar.
“Shut the fuck up, kid. I know where the fuck you live. We’re going somewhere else. You just be a good little boy, keep your fuckin’ mouth closed, and I won’t hurt you. I promise.”
The fucking biggest lie in the history of lies.
He scrunched his eyes shut again, and the darkness immediately invaded, tugging at him, reminding him. And even when he tried to open his eyes, even when he gripped onto the blanket covering him, it was still there—the dark and cold of the basement, someone coming at him, a rotten breath cursing in his ear, a rough shove against a hard wall.
His head hurt. And there were more curses, more hands grabbing him, more dark and cold and pain. And he just wanted to go. He wanted to go home. Back home and back to—
“Rye?”
That was his name. Rye. Ryan Henry Davis.
And the voice was soft and kind and right nearby. And it came again.
“Hey, is everything okay?”
Fuck, no.Nausea rippled through him at the involuntary curse in his mind, and he clutched to whatever was surrounding him, something warm, and pulled it up over his head. Shaking. He was shaking. And his heart was racing. But then there was a gentle touch on his arm over the top of the blanket.
“Rye?” A light squeeze. “Hey, you’re okay, Rye.”
He buried his head into the warmth. A blanket. He had a blanket. And the voice was his friend’s. The touch was his friend’s. Jake’s.
He made some noise, wanting to say something, but it came out as another pathetic-sounding whimper.
Jake’s hand rubbed up and down his arm, still over top of the blanket. “It’s okay. It’s okay. You’re safe.”
God, he didn’t feel safe. Nothing felt safe. Nothing. He wanted to move. To retreat. To run away and bury himself in a corner somewhere. Alone.
Or no, no, no,notalone.
Another shiver ran through him. A lonely road stretched out in front of him, a white car pulled up alongside him, a—
“J-Jake?” he mumbled into the blanket.
“Yeah. Yeah, I’m here. I’m right here. You’re okay.”
No, I’m a mess.
“You’re okay. You’re okay. I’m right here with you, okay?”
Don’t go. Please don’t go.
He concentrated for a moment on the soft touch of Jake rubbing his arm over the blanket, and he took slow, deep breaths, trying to steady himself. But his heartstill raced with a rising panic that wouldn’t let him go. And shame bubbled up in his chest, dark and hot.
He’d held himself togetherall day, through everything that had been thrown at him. Having to walk past those reporters at the college had nearly sent him over the edge, and then he’d somehow recovered to take his exams, and he’d somehow done well.
So why had tonight been so ridiculously difficult?
