Softness.Rye needed him to stay soft and quiet and all those things, and he knew that. But all the pieces started to come together—all the suspicions he’d had, everything he’d known was true but had desperately hoped was wrong, all the little things that had really been big things.
Someone—someman—had kidnapped Rye. Some man had kidnapped him and imprisoned him for fifteen years and hurt him.
“You’re safe now,” Jake said, as softly and gently as he could. And he finally dared to reach over, setting his hand lightly on Rye’s upper back and then rubbing slowly back and forth. “You’re safe,” he repeated, “and when you’re here with me, you can talk as little or as much as you want. I won’t ever push you for anything more.”
Rye sniffled again, closed his eyes, and nodded. “My mom did in the beginning... She pushed a little. She just... she wanted to help. Like everyone. And there was even a social worker. He came to my house and was really nice. But, um, I just... can’t... and the words won’t come... and I get... so... so scared, and...”
A drop of water fell from Rye’s hair onto his cheek, and Rye reached up to wipe it away. His hands were trembling and red from the cold, and another uncomfortable wave spread through Jake’s chest.
“I’ve got a towel and a dry coat in the trunk if—”
Rye shook his head and then huffed what might have been a small laugh. “No, e-even with all this... um, I... still like... knowing that it’s rain. I’m... okay.”
“If you’re sure,” Jake said, and he slowly pulled his hand away from Rye’s back and shifted in his seat, ignoring the pain in his leg. He could already feel his muscles stiffening up the longer they sat there, though he hoped the heater would help.
“Yeah. I’m sure.” Rye crossed his arms over his chest, and Jake watched Rye’s gaze drift out through the blurry windshield.
He couldn’t imagine what Rye was thinking just then, and like Rye had said, maybe it was best for him not to know. But his heart was still broken in some way, beating too fast and uneven. And it hurt. Not physically, not in the same way Rye had said he hurt when he tried to speak sometimes, but a different sort of deep ache like Jake had only ever felt in the last two months since meeting Rye.
The rain began to ease up outside as the two sat in silence in the warming vehicle for a while longer, and Rye seemed to slowly relax, leaning his head up against the window and continuing to watch the rain fall outside.
“I do... like the rain,” Rye said quietly after another few minutes.
Jake let out a long breath, and with a cautious smile, he said, “Yeah. Yeah, I do, too.”
Chapter Thirty-Six
Rye
Ryewatchedthewindshieldwipers move back and forth across the windshield, clearing away the blur of the heavy raindrops that still fell. He wanted to roll the window down and stick his hand out, feel the sting of the raindrops hitting his palm. But it was cold outside and warm inside the car, and so he remained content with just watching the raindrops fall and remembering what they’d felt like not more than a few minutes ago, when he and Jake had still been outside.
Cool. Pleasant. Soothing. Freeing. And the smell! The smell of fresh rain and the ocean...
He laughed, not because it was funny, but because he could. And then he reached up and put his hand on the window of the car, feeling the chill from outside through the glass.
“Hmm?” Jake hummed from next to him, and the car’s blinker clicked on as Jake started to brake.
He almost just said how much he liked the rain,again, but then he thought better of it because he’d already told Jake that more than once. Instead, he said, “The rain... even smells good.”
“Ahh, yes! The rain plus the ocean—”
“Yes, exactly!” Rye cut in, grinning as he looked over at Jake. Jake was watching the road, driving carefully through the rain, but Rye could see he was smiling now too. And that made Rye feel much better.
The words he’d finally been able to share earlier had been so, so hard to say, and as soon as he’d said them, his stomach had felt awful and his chest had felt heavy, and he’d just wanted to take the words right back. Especially when Jake had stopped walking and looked so...horrifiedmight be the right word. Ordismayed. Rye had learned that word in another book a few weeks ago, like how he’d learned the wordformidable.
If it had been anyone other than Jake, his words would have caught in his throat before he’d even been able to force them out. And he’d have felt more sick. And the awful memories of that awful place would have jumped right back into his head and made him hurt more.Again.
But for the first time, the words had actually come. Small things. How he hadn’t experienced rain in so long. And how he hurt physically, sometimes a lot, when he tried to speak.
So now Jake knew something. Some answers to those questions the police officers had asked him, some of the things his mom had wanted to know, some answers to the questions he’d never been able to respond to, even with a nod or a simple yes or no... Jake knew them now. Sort of.
And Jake had been reassuring and kind as he always, always was. He’d promised he’d listen if Rye needed it but that he’d never push Rye to talk when he wasn’t ready. That had been just what Rye had needed.
The whole last two months—all the visits from the police, even the kind woman officer, Pamela; all the moments he’d spent in near panic, trying to push down the need to justrun; all the time he’d spent fumbling or huddled in a corner, hugging his knees and hiding his face, listening to the rotten voice of the man in his head—the weight of it all had maybe lifted just a little. Just enough that maybe,maybehe could enjoy moments like this. Moments in the rain or on the beach or just sitting in the car while his friend drove them to the post office. Maybe he could laugh and smile. Maybe he couldtalk.
And maybe he could share more with Jake and Jake could share that information with the police. And then maybe...
“We’re almost there. You’re sure it’s okay if we make this stop really quick before I take you home? Your mom won’t mind? I think we’re a bit late. I’d said I’d drop you off around one.”
