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“How things went with Lincoln.” He took a long pull of his beer
She held her breath. Did she risk being honest and admit her curiosity was at fever pitch? That she was waiting for him to make the first move?
“I guessed from your unsettled mood that your discussion didn’t go well.”
He shrugged, the action causing her hand to slide down his arm. She curled her fingers into her palm. Seth finally turned to her, his gaze watchful. “Not as well as I would have liked. But I ended up making my position clear.”
“And that was?”
“I needed some time to deal with whoever’s attacking my family. Once that’s over, we could meet again.”
The flatness of Seth’s tone unnerved her. Lincoln was his brother. How could he—
She bit her lip. Don’t judge, Harper. Besides, she didn’t know any of the facts.
But still, Lincoln had hired people, had crossed an ocean to find Seth. He didn’t do that on a whim. This brother was invested in reuniting with Seth.
“What if Lincoln decides to try before you’re ready?”
“He’ll end up disappointed.”
“Did you...” She stopped. How could she phrase this? Maybe just say it straight. “Is it partly because of your other brothers you won’t see Lincoln again? You feel a sense of loyalty to them?”
“When he was ten, Lincoln told a lie. He stole money and denied it was him, which most kids would do when cornered. I got the blame.” Seth’s gaze drilled into her, holding her in place. “Gran rang the cops. I got taken away and made a ward of the state. It was a week before my twelfth birthday.”
But how could his grandmother have done such a horrible thing? “You were just a kid.”
“Didn’t matter. Bitch hated me from the time I was born.” Seth dropped his gaze to his hands holding his beer. “She resented like hell taking us in when mum OD’d.” He lifted a finger. “No, correction. Gran didn’t want me. Lincoln was okay, but I was the spawn of the devil.”
“I don’t understand. Nobody gives up a child because they stole money.” What kind of monster could be so unforgiving? “Whether they’re guilty or not.”
“She did. That’s the last time I saw her.” He reached for the TV remote, as if they were done talking.
He had to be kidding. Harper snatched the device out of his hands. “Seth, there’s got to be more to the story.”
The muscles around his mouth tightened. He wanted the subject closed. But something told Harper her big Aussie needed to let out the poison building inside of him and turning him into this withdrawn machine. Expecting the easy-going charmer she’d come to know would be too much after this afternoon’s events. But this cold, closed off man was a stranger.
“Please, Seth. Help me to understand.”
Seth rose in one fast movement and prowled around the living area, holding his beer with one hand and the other fisted by his side.
Harper sat back and remained quiet.
“All right, Harper. You want to know?” His gaze collided with hers. “When Social Services takes you away, they don’t tell you you’re never coming back. Kids scream and cry when that happens. So they say shit like ‘we’re just going to have a chat’. But you know in the way your gut hurts like a motherfucker that there’ll be no happy ending.”
Oh, God. She swallowed and reminded herself Seth needed this, needed to vent, to get out the poison.
His lowered his beer onto the birch dining table with a ‘thunk’. “They dumped me with different families. Two weeks with one. Three with another. Trying to find the ‘right fit’.” He made air quotes with his fingers. “Then they found the ultimate family for me. Two drunks. Childless.” He stared beyond her out the huge windows at the skyline and buildings beyond. “When the child protection officer came for her visit two weeks later, she told me that unless my life was in immediate danger, my foster parents giving me a hard spanking wasn’t her top priority.”
His gaze pierced her. A horrible sickening feeling filled her belly. But he had to share; someone had to know what he went through.
When he next spoke Seth’s voice had hardened with disgust. “Since when were two broken ribs a hard spanking?”
“Oh, Jesus.” How could anyone hurt a child that way?
“Foster kids learn quickly they’re on their own. Not just that they’re apart from those they live with, but everyone around them, too. The parents of your fellow classmates don’t want their child hanging with the boy who comes from a bad home.”
To feel so alone. At least she’d had Nitro, and in some sense, her sister. And Greta, too. And she’d never been beaten.
