I had no answer worthy of it.
When Ben finished the knot, Cove tried one last time to wrench away, but with his wrists bound, the movement only pitched him sideways. I caught him before he could strike the ground.
“Ankles too,” Ben said.
“No,” I said.
Ben stared at me through the dark. “Tobias.”
“He can’t run like this.”
“He just ran toward a cliff in the dark,” Ben grunted. “He is terrified, and he is going to keep trying because he thinks we’re going to kill him. We are not carrying him when he can kick the whole way.”
Cove had gone very still against me.
I looked down at him, at the wet tracks on his reddened face, the tremble in his mouth, the bound wrists pressed helplessly between us.
“I don’t want—” I began.
“I know what you want,” Ben interrupted, quieter now. “And I know what has to happen.”
I hated him for being right.
“Do it gently,” I murmured.
“Of course.”
Between us, we lowered Cove onto the stone, not flat on his back, not with any force, but enough that Ben could reach his ankles while I kept a hand beneath Cove’s head so it did not strike the ground. Cove fought again the second Ben touched him, not with the same strength as before, but with panicked jerks and desperate, useless kicks that made the process take longer and hurt all of us more than it needed to.
“Stop,” I said softly. “Cove, stop. He won’t hurt you.”
“You’re tying me up,” he cried, voice breaking around the words. “You can’t say that while you’re tying me up.”
I had no answer.
None that would not sound monstrous.
Ben secured the second knot and sat back on his heels, breathing hard.
For several seconds, the three of us remained there in the wind, Cove on the stone between us with his wrists and ankles bound, Ben sweaty and surly beside him, and me kneeling with one hand still curved around the back of Cove’s head as though gentleness in one place could excuse restraint everywhere else.
It did not, but I kept my hand there anyway.
“We need to get him inside,” Ben said.
“Okay.”
Cove began shaking his head before I moved. “No. No, please. Please, I’ll stay outside. I won’t run. I won’t—”
“You nearly fell,” I said.
“Because you chased me.”
“But you still nearly fell.”
Ben stood first, rubbing one hand over his face before glancing back toward the house. “Quickly. Before anyone sees something from the road.”
“No one can see from the road.”
