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 in foster 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.
Travis is in the kitchen, hunched over his laptop, a half-drained cup of coffee sitting beside him. His focus stays locked on the screen, fingers moving in short bursts across the keys. He hasn’t been sleeping. Not since the video. Not since we watched Samantha die on screen.
I step inside. He looks up, his eyes landing on me first. His gaze sharpens slightly as he takes me in, then flicks past me toward the hallway.
“You and Seth make up?” he asks, his eyes flicking past me again toward the hallway. “Based on the noise, I’m guessing yeah.”
My gaze darts from the floor to him. “I don’t know. I don’t know what’s going on right now, but I need your help.”
He sits up, alert. “With what?”
“I need you to search the Oregon CPS database. Two minors. Elise and Ryan. They’re Samantha’s kids. Seth’s half-siblings.”
Travis’s jaw shifts. “You think they’re alive?”
“They have to be,” I reply. “Grant would’ve killed them on that call if they were there. Their dad died a few years ago, and she didn’t have any other family. So they’re all alone.”
He leans forward, pulling the laptop closer. “If she didn’t name a guardian, the state would’ve stepped in fast.”
“That’s what I’m worried about. If they’re in the system… Grant could easily find them. And after what I did to his family, he'll be looking.”
He is already typing, his eyes flicking across the screen. “Got it. Give me a second.”
The silence stretches as his fingers move. Then—
“Found them. Elise Roberts, fifteen. Ryan Roberts, fourteen. Jefferson High in Portland. Emergency foster placement with Patricia DeWitt. Samantha updated her paperwork two years ago, listing her as a backup guardian. Looks like CPS honored it.”
My heart thuds. “We have to get them. Grant will come for them if we don’t.”
“We have to move quickly,” Travis sighs. “I guarantee you if Grant’s people are digging, they’ll be found. They’re vulnerable, Brooke.”
“I know…That’s why I have a plan.”
Travis looks at me sideways. “What kind of plan?”
“I need Naomi.”
His brows lift. “Naomi?”
“She has reach. She still has followers, the TikTok audience. If she frames it like a contest or a fan meet-up, we can get the kids to come to her without tipping off anyone watching them. If we roll up in person, we risk getting flagged. But if it’s Naomi, it just looks like content.”
“You want to bait them with influencer clout?” he mutters. “That’s crazy as fuck, but it might actually work.”
“I need you to call her. She trusts you.”
Travis hesitates, then nods slowly. “Alright. I’ll call her.”