Page 104 of No More Secrets
“She’s scared.” Voice flat, he shoved his hands in his pocket.
“You certainly have an interesting effect on women,” Beckett sighed. “Where are you now?”
It was a question that was born when Carter came home. Plagued by nightmares and panic attacks and a dark emptiness, Beckett had been there to gauge him every day. Jax had checked in by phone twice a day for the six weeks after his return and flew out for a week in the middle of it. Their mother made him lunch every day and sat with him while he ate even when he didn’t want to.
Every day, sometimes several times, Carter ranked his state of mind.
Where am I now?
At first, it was hard to be honest. It hurt the ones he loved to know his pain. It was terrifying to be so vulnerable. But day-by-day, that vulnerability had turned into a strength deeper than any he had ever known. It was built on something real, something honest. There was no lying to himself or his family.
After a few months, most of the shadows had been chased out.
The ones that remained were reminders of how precious life and hope were.
He still asked himself the question every morning. Only now it meant something different.
“I’m okay,” he told his brother. “I know she loves me. She just needs time and trust.”
“How much time are you going to give her?”
Carter shrugged and shoved his hands in his pockets. “As much as she needs.”
Beckett slapped his hand on his back. “You know we’re going to hover for a while, right?”
Carter nodded quietly. “Unnecessary, but appreciated.”
“You let me know what you need.”
“I could go for an IPA.”
“I’ll grab the six and meet you by the fence rail on the road. We can probably get that mowed in an hour.”
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Beckett waited until he was out of earshot before yanking his phone out of his pocket and dialing.
“Code Shit,” he said when Jax answered, and filled him in.
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“What?” Joey’s tone held the frost of a winter’s morning in Antarctica on the other end of the phone.
“Shut up and listen,” Jax ordered. He didn’t have time to coax out the gentleness he knew she still carried. “I need you to call Carter and get him over to the horse barn this afternoon.”
“Why?”
“Just get him on a fucking horse and don’t ask him any questions.”
She swore quietly. “How bad is it?”
“Not great, but he’ll be okay. Consider it a preemptive strike.”
“Okay. Thanks for the heads up.”
“Thanks for the help.”
“Jackson?”
