But I see his eyes.
They are red. They are wet.
Tears slide down his face in silence, tracking over his cheeks and falling one by one onto the back of my neck. Each drop feels heavier than the last.
He isn’t making a sound. He's crying without realizing it, like his body started bleeding emotion before his mind could catch up. His chest keeps rising and falling against my back, while his arms stay wrapped around me like he might fall apart if he lets go.
Something inside him broke and the pieces were too small to pick up.
Chapter 64
Brooke
When he finally pulls out and shifts to the side, I stay still, my cheek pressed to the mattress, my breath dragging in and out like my body is trying to remember how to function.
His hand rests on my hip for a moment, then slides up my back. I feel the change in him before he moves.
He reaches for my wrists first.
The duct tape peels away in harsh, ripping sounds, each pull sharp against my skin. He works fast, but I feel the guilt in every careful touch. My hands fall free, fingers curling into the sheets on instinct.
Then he turns me gently, his thumb brushing my jaw as he peels the tape from my mouth. The adhesive tugs at my skin. When it’s gone, I suck in a full breath for the first time since he taped me, the air hitting my lungs.
He lies down beside me, close enough that our shoulders touch. Neither of us speaks. Sweat cools on our skin. Our breathing stays uneven. The room still feels like it is vibrating from everything we just did.
He finally exhales. “I’m sorry.”
I turn toward him and push the hair from his face, my fingers brushing the bruise forming along his cheekbone. “I’m sorry too.”
His eyes close like those three words land exactly where they need to, like they hit something already breaking.
I take a breath. “I know you might not be ready… but we need to find your siblings.”
His eyes open slowly.
I keep going.
“Samantha told me her husband died a few years ago. She didn’t have any other family. Since your brother and sister aren’t with her… they’re probably infoster care by now. And after what I did to Grant’s family…” I pause, my voice tightening. “He’ll come for them next.”
Seth stares at the ceiling like he is trying to erase what he just saw. But I catch the shift in him, the way his breathing changes. He knows I’m right.
“How are we going to get them?” he asks. “There’s a fucking manhunt for us. We can’t just show up at some social worker’s office and ask nicely.”
I sit up and reach for the leggings he ripped earlier, still on the floor, useless.
“I have an idea,” I say.
He doesn’t ask what it is. He just stands and pulls his pants up. “I need a minute.”
He doesn’t look back as he leaves the room.
The door shuts behind him hard enough to rattle the wall.
I sit there alone in the dark. My legs tremble from exhaustion. I know he is spiraling. I know that I push. But I don’t regret it.
We can’t afford to sit in silence and grief. Not with more innocent lives hanging in the balance. Not with Grant still breathing.
I get up, adjust my clothes, and walk out of the room.
