Beau shrugs and pops it into his mouth. “You’re squatting in my house.”
“I mean, we are all wanted men at this point, so my options are limited.”
Brooke rolls her eyes as Luna shifts in her lap and tries to climb onto the table. Brooke slides her forearm gently across the cat’s chest and guides her back before she can reach the cartons.
“You two are exhausting,” she laughs.
“And yet,” Travis says, pointing his chopsticks at her, “you keep us around.”
She shrugs and adjusts Luna so the cat stretches comfortably along her thigh. “Well you two are pretty useful.”
Beau smirks at Travis. “Hey, he came in clutch. He shot a guy in the foot so we could find you.”
Brooke looks at Travis. “Aww, really, Trav?”
Travis lifts his hands defensively. “It was partially an accident, but I definitely needed to shoot him so we could track you down.”
I lean back in my chair, a beer hanging loose in my hand.
My eyes settle on Brooke again.
When she catches me staring, she lifts her chin slightly. “What?”
“You good?”
She holds my gaze a second longer than usual. Luna stretches toward the carton again, and Brooke lifts it higher without breaking eye contact.
“Yeah.”
“Really?” I ask.
Her jaw shifts as she swallows. “I’m not spiraling, Seth.”
“That wasn’t the question.”
“I’m fine,” she says again, quieter this time, scratching lightly behind Luna’s ear to distract her. “I’m not turning into a homicidal maniac.”
I study her face for signs I recognize from myself. The distant look. The hunger. The tilt toward something darker.
“I can live like this,” I tell her. “I don’t want you to.”
Her expression changes, but she doesn’t flinch. “I’m not doing this because of you. I’m doing it because they don’t get to keep breathing after what they did.”
I understand her.
I kill because it feels necessary. She kills because it feels justified.
Still, I lean forward slightly, lowering my voice. “If you ever feel it pulling you somewhere you don’t recognize, you tell me.”
A faint smile touches her mouth as Luna finally gives up and settles fully against her stomach. “You’ll be the first to know.”
“Good.”
Travis clears his throat in an exaggerated way. “Are we done with the emotional check-in, or are we doing a healing circle next?”
I flip him off.
Brooke keeps her eyes on me for another second before looking away, stroking Luna’s back while the cat purrs.
