33. Sam

Watching Carter struggle through the questions the detectives ask him is hard. Hell, the past few days have been some of the hardest I’ve ever had to go through.

I hate seeing him hurt. His face is still an absolute mess. The bruises have changed color and almost look uglier now than they did when he first got out of surgery.

It’s gut-wrenching to see him this way.

Carter takes a deep breath and presses play on the security feed. Three men with balaclavas walk up to the back door of his house. They fiddle with the lock and then enter the house.

Carter pauses the video. “Why wouldn’t my alarm system have notified me there was a break-in?”

“We’re still trying to figure that out, as well. They had to have some form of override code to get past the alarm.”

“I’ll call my security company to find out if they have anything strange on their end.” Carter presses play again. Once they go inside, there’s nothing more that can be seen. He speeds up the footage until the door opens and the three men leave.

“This didn’t spark any memories. But one thing I do remember is that they weren’t wearing masks when I got there. The image I have of the man hovering over me is of his face.”

“Would you be able to describe it to a sketch artist?”

He purses his lips. “I doubt it. He had dark hair and dark eyes. That’s all I remember. Wait…” He looks down at his hands on top of the sheet. “I remember calling him something in my head… something like Don Julio or—no, it was a Godfather reference. I feel like he reminded me of a mob boss.”

“A mob boss?” Neal asks.

“I know it sounds ridiculous, but that’s what I remember.”

“It’s better than the nothing we had before,” Warner assures him. “Tell us about the first break-in, as well as the notes you received.”

Carter describes everything in detail. I fill in where I can, adding things that his brothers and I found while we were cleaning up Carter’s house.

“And you have no idea what the notes were referring to?”

We both shake our heads.

“Based on what you’ve experienced so far, we think someone is trying to send you a message. With each threat, it’s escalated, but you’re not doing whatever it is they want you to do, which led them to attack you.”

Carter gets this faraway look on his face.

“Baby, you okay?” I stroke my thumb across the back of his hand.

He blinks and turns back to face the detectives. “Sorry, something about him saying they were threatening me felt familiar, but then it was gone in an instant.”

“Hopefully, that means some of your memories will come back,” I say.

Carter shrugs. I can tell he’s starting to flag both emotionally and physically.

I think the detectives can see they won’t get anything else from Carter right now, too, so they thank him and leave their cards to call if we think of anything else.

Once they leave, Carter turns to me. “I think I’m going to rest now. Is that okay?”

He looks so defeated. I hate this for him. “Of course, love. You rest, and I’ll fill your family in on how that went.”

“You’ll stay with me until I’m asleep?”

“I’m not going anywhere. Promise.” With a kiss on his forehead, Carter closes his eyes and is asleep within minutes.

I leave his hospital room, knowing his family has been in the waiting room since the detectives got here.

“Hey, how did it go?” Adam asks when he spots me. The whole family crowds around me to hear the update.

“About as well as you’d expect. He remembered a couple of things, but not enough to go on. He’s beating himself up over it.”

“Why am I not surprised?” Matthew says with a shake of his head.

“What’s next?” Cindy asks.

I shrug. “We get him home to heal, I guess.”

“Do you think he should come stay with us?” She turns to Steve.

“He’ll hate that,” Nolan says.

“I’ll stay with him at his house. I’ve already talked with Tucker to get the time off,” I say without giving them a choice. I know Carter well enough now to know he’d hate staying with his parents. It would only overwhelm him, not help him. “Since there aren’t any stairs to get to his bedroom, it’ll help him heal. I don’t think there will be any bad memories at first, and being in the house might help his brain remember something.”

Cindy leans into my side. “I’m so glad Carter found you, Sam. We’re beyond grateful for how well you love him.”

“It’s the easiest thing I’ve ever done.”

“Come on, grumpopotamus. You need to eat a little something, and then we can go back to binging Supernatural.”

“I can feed myself,” Carter says from the couch.

“That’s good news because I didn’t have any plans to hand-feed you.”

He side-eyes me, but the twitch at the corner of his mouth says all I need to know.

“How do we feel about pancakes? I’m ready to redeem myself.” I grin.

“On one condition.”

I raise my eyebrow, prepared to do battle over his medication or whatever else he’s feeling pissy about this morning. A couple of days after we got home, Carter’s mood tanked fast. Some days, he was in a lot of pain and kept getting frustrated about how slowly he was healing. It didn’t seem to matter to him that he experienced a major surgery and deep contusions all over his body. He wanted to be able to do all the things all at once.

After being mad about healing, he tried to do some work, but I wouldn’t let him because the doctor said he needed to keep screen time to a minimum. I’ve been lax on the TV because I have no idea what we would’ve done without it, but I drew a line at using his computer.

“You give me a kiss.”

My face softens into a smile. “Happily.” I do as requested. His lips are plump under mine, and I feel more connected to him than I have since he was in the hospital.

“Thank you,” he says when we pull back. “For everything. I’m sorry I’ve been such an asshole.”

“You get a pass since you didn’t choose to be this way.”

“No, I shouldn’t get a pass. Just because I don’t feel good does not mean I get to be a jerk. From here on, if I’m hateful, I lose my TV privileges.”

I laugh. “That makes me feel like I’m grounding you or something.”

“Then you can be Daddy Sam this time.” He winks at me.

“Ohhh. Kinky.” I kiss him once more and then stand from the couch to make breakfast. When I get to the stove, I take a deep breath to release some of the tension I’ve been holding. Seeing this side of Carter again gives me hope. He’s going to be okay. Physically, he’s been healing fine. It’s the mental stuff he’s been struggling with the most.

“How much longer is Tucker going to let you take time off?” Carter calls from the living room.

“He’s letting me take one more week. I had a bunch of PTO built up, so he’s happy I’m finally taking it. Plus, he knows I’d be distracted at the station if I was worried about you the whole time.”

“Okay, good. I’m glad you’re not going to be in trouble for spending all this time with me.”

“Nah, just don’t plan any vacations this year. I probably won’t be able to go,” I tease.

“God, wouldn’t that be great? Sun, sand, ocean, you in a teeny tiny Speedo.” Carter groans. “Dammit. Now I’m hard, and I can’t do anything about it.”

I bust out laughing. “That sounds like heaven to me. As long as you’re in a tiny swimsuit, too.”

“I think that can be arranged.”

This one-eighty difference in Carter’s mood has made my day. I didn’t mind his cranky attitude. I truly didn’t. But this is so much better.

“Oh, holy fuck!”

“What? What’s going on?” I run into the living room.

Carter’s eyes are bright with excitement. “Did you know they put Princess Bride on Netflix?”

“Jesus Christ, Carter. You can’t do that to me.” I rub my chest where my heart is still thumping.

“Oops.” He cringes. “Sorry.”

I shake my head and go back into the kitchen to finish making breakfast. I was hoping he’d remembered something from his attack, but he still doesn’t have any memories from that day.

The police haven’t found anything either, and we’re all starting to get worried we’ll never find out who did this to Carter.