“They’re here because they want to ask you some more questions,” Jake said quietly. Rye’s expression tightened as he screwed his eyes shut, and Jake shook his head gently. “For now, it’s just you and me, okay? Just you and me, and they won’t ask you anything else unless you’re ready.”
He hoped that was right; he was pretty sure Rachel would wait, but he didn’t know Pamela. He shot them a quick glance, and they both nodded but stayed silent.
“So, can I come and sit with you?” Jake asked again, and he took another small step toward Rye, leaning a bit more heavily on his cane. To his right, Rachel started to move to the door, but Jake shook his head. “Don’t shut it. Rye prefers the door to stay open. Right, Rye?”
Rye nodded almost immediately, though he didn’t look up again, and Jake blew out a relieved breath and then took another step forward.
“And I can sit with you?” When Rye didn’t respond, Jake added very, very softly, “Remember, you can always say no.”
He’d just started to back up a step, worried he’d already messed up somehow, when Rye coughed and then nodded.
“You . . .can.”
Hearing Rye’s voice was a special, precious thing, even with his obvious hesitation, and Jake felt a tug at his heart that was almost becoming familiar.
He smiled and said, “Thank you, Rye.” Then, still moving slowly, Jake hobbled the rest of the way over to where Rye sat against the wall and carefully lowered himself to the ground, relying heavily on his cane. It wasn’t elegant, and he managed to not make any embarrassing sounds that would show his discomfort, but he couldn’t help feeling the tiniest bit self-conscious with Rachel and Pamela watching him.
Once he settled, sitting against the wall a foot or so away from Rye, he rested his cane down on the floor and glanced at the man next to him. Rye had turned his head slightly in Jake’s direction, and he met Jake’s gaze almost immediately, his eyes still holding onto that fear and uncertainty Jake had seen in them earlier.
Jake gave him a gentle half-smile, hoping it might ease some of whatever he was feeling. And by some miracle, Rye seemed to try to smile back. It was one of those small, tight smiles, and it disappeared into a frown almost immediately.
“I... can’t do wh-what they want. And that m-made that man... m-mad,” Rye said, his words stuttering and slow. He buried his head back into his knees, and his body trembled again. This time, Jake was close enough that he could hear Rye’s shuddering breath.
He simultaneously wanted to cry for Rye—the heartbreak in his words was just too much—and cheer for him at the full, complete sentences he’d spoken. But he did neither.
“I’m sorry, Rye,” he said softly, even as his chest tightened. “It’s just us here now, okay? You’re safe, and it’s okay if you’re not ready.”
Rye didn’t respond, but Jake hadn’t really expected him to. He shifted a tiny bit to straighten his bad leg and looked up across the room at Rachel and Pamela. They’d moved quietly to sit in the two chairs—one on either side of Wayne’s desk—and they were both watching him silently. Jake gave them a nod before focusing back on Rye.
God, he wished he knew exactly what to say. More than that, though, he wished Rye hadn’t been put in this situation in the first place.
“I saw two more dolphins this morning,” Jake said finally, after a long pause. “I was out on the patio, and they were swimming south. They were bottlenose dolphins, not Pacific white-sided dolphins. I don’t see those ones as much. I think they tend to stay a bit farther south, so it was neat.”
Rye had turned his head to look at Jake again, and Jake smiled.
“Can you see the ocean from your house?” he asked, hoping the question was innocuous enough.
Rye blinked and seemed to be thinking, then he shook his head slightly.
“Ahh, too bad. Are there too many trees?”
A nod this time, and Rye looked like he wanted to say something, so Jake waited. But then Rye closed his eyes and rested his forehead back on his knees.
Jake took a breath and let the silence settle for a moment. Realistically, he knew they didn’t have too much time, but he also knew deep down that Rye wasn’treallygoing to be able to talk. Not today at least. Even though he’d managed a few words to Jake just now, which was impressive enough in itself, the most Jake really expected would be a nod or a shake of his head once Rachel or Pamela started talking to him.
It was too much for him right now, andat minimum, that should have been recognized much sooner. But since Jake couldn’t turn back the clock—and god, how he wanted to; turn it back fifteen years and fix all the wrongs before they’d even happened—he had to just do the best he could now.
He looked up at Rachel and gave her a tight smile. Her expression reflected his, as did Pamela’s, and he was glad that the tone in the room had changed enough for Rye to have felt comfortable saying the few words he had.
Jake turned back to Rye.
“I’m sorry that other man who was trying to talk to you seemed mad,” Jake said quietly. “I’m sorry you were put in that situation.”
It was the truth, even though Jake hadn’t had any part in it, and it hurt even more when he saw Rye’s shoulders tighten.
“He... scared me,” Rye mumbled into his knees.
“I know, and I’m sorry. You’re so brave to be here, though, Rye.”
