An offer of help to get home. And then a promise.
A promise that had been nothing but an awful, horrible lie.
Because that was what adults did. Especially strange adult men. They lied to you and then they stole you from your family and then they hid you away in a cold, dark basement and hurt you in the worst ways possible.
For fifteen years.
Fifteen years had been taken from him by that man. That awful man.
And he was so scared it would happen again.
He just wanted to go home.
“Hey, Rye. I, uh, managed to reschedule the meeting for next week.” The quiet voice came from several feet away, and somehow, it didn’t startle him. The sofa shifted and creaked a bit on the opposite end. “Is it okay if I sit here?”
Rye’s chest tightened.
“...keep your fuckin’ mouth closed, and I won’t hurt you.”
He said nothing. And he didn’t move, not even to breathe.
“We don’t have to talk, not unless you want to. But I didn’t like leaving you out here alone, and I, uh, want you to know that... that I’m here to help. If you want. Otherwise, I’ll just be here so you’re not alone. Is that okay?” Jake let out a short breath. “God, I’m a rambling idiot when I’m nervous. I’m sorry. And I’m so sorry about earlier too—I didn’t mean to say anything to hurt you. I just... I just want to help, whatever you need me to do.”
Something cracked inside him, and he started crying into his knees again. But it was a different crying than before. It was filled with pain and sadness and grief.
HeheardJake’s kindness. Heheardhis gentleness, his softness. And heheardthe apologies and the questions. Jake was giving Rye a choice. Again. Still giving Rye a choice.
Daring to test it, he suddenly shook his head, his hands gripping tighter to his legs.
“Ah, um . . .”
Rye held his breath, waiting, his heart thundering in his ears now.
“Alright. Okay. If that’s what you want, yeah. I’ll go back inside.” After some seconds, Rye heard Jake’s heavy, slightly uneven footsteps walking away and then the back door opening. “I’m, um, going to leave the door open. Okay? For whenever you want to come back in. And I’ll be here if you want to talk, too. Okay?”
Then there was silence, and Rye was alone again.
Hourspassed.Maybe.Ryewasn’t great at keeping track of time. But the sun had shifted high overhead, and he was a little warm, still bundledup in Jake’s coat.
Twice, Jake had come out and asked Rye if he wanted company. And each time, when Rye had shaken his head in response, Jake had left and gone back inside.
He’d calmed down a little, his intense, uncontrollable emotions from earlier no longer forcing his body to tremble. The aching in his chest, however, wouldn’t leave. All he could really think about was how much he wanted to believe Jake.
Jake had said he would help get Rye home. He’d said Rye was safe and that he wanted to help. And everything Jake had done—before and since—seemed to support that. He’d saved Rye from the beach, given him food and warm clothes and a bed. And blankets and pillows. And a shower. And cookies. He’d talked to Rye with a soft, kind voice. Taught him how to make tea. Stopped cursing when he’d found out it bothered Rye. He’d let Rye watch that documentary and play video games and read magazines. And he’d listened.
When Rye had said no, Jake had listened.
Rye hadn’t had anyone listen to him in fifteen years. In fact, he hadn’t been allowed to talk in fifteen years. He’d been told to shut the fuck up. Don’t fucking cry. Or else.
So maybe the next time Jake came out, Rye would tell him he could stay.
Rye lifted his eyes for the first time in all those hours. It was bright, and the sunlight felt harsh. Yet it was also incredible and warm. And he suddenly knew—he remembered, without any doubt at all—that he used to love the sunshine.
Summer sunshine and warmth. And he’d loved when his mom would take him to the beach. She’d sit on her big yellow beach towel and watch him dig holes and build sandcastles. And... theyhad! Theyhadseen those dolphins before! The ones with the two-colored fins on their backs. What had Jake called them? Pacific white... something.
He turned his head slightly and looked out toward the ocean, and then he just sat there for some more time, watching the waves break as far out as he could see them.
It was a while longer before he heard Jake’s footsteps come up behind him again. They sounded more uneven than they had before.
