Chapter 65
Seth
Istill hear that gunshot. I still see my mother fall backward. The blood was already spreading by the time her body hit the floor. I couldn’t move. I keep replaying what she said before it happened.
I never stopped loving you.
I’m sorry I didn’t protect you.
I didn’t believe it before. Not until I saw her die for it.
And now the weight of it just sits on my chest like punishment. I never should’ve doubted her in the first place.
I thought she abandoned me. That she chose herself and ran.
But she didn’t run. She was lied to.
By Grant.
By Richard.
And if I had just listened to Brooke, if I had gone to her house and heard her out, I would've gotten one moment with her. I would've been able to hug my mother for the first time in almost twenty years. I would've met my siblings instead of seeing them outside the house next to police.
I should've just gone.
I should've given her a chance.
Instead, I'm sitting here with blood on my hands, knowing she died thinking I didn’t love her.
And I hate myself for that.
My eyes drift to the picture on the nightstand. The one Samantha gave Brooke the last time we went to her house.
It shows me as a newborn, lying against her chest with a tiny pumpkin hat on my head. Samantha is smiling down at me in the photo like I'm the only thing in the world that matters.
I stare at it longer than I should.
I hear the door open downstairs. A familiar voice follows. I sit up slowly and pull on my shirt. I don’t rush. I don’t really want to face any of them yet. But I make myself move.
By the time I reach the stairwell, Brooke is already hugging Naomi in the foyer. Naomi looks thinner. Worn the hell down. There's a haunted look in her eyes like she hasn’t slept in weeks.
“You okay?” Brooke asks her gently.
Naomi gives a crooked little shrug. “Survived a hotel massacre, so… yeah. I guess I’m as good as I’m gonna be.”
Brooke gives her a knowing smile. “Not my first rodeo with a massacre.”
Naomi’s eyebrows lift. “Shit. Yeah. I forgot who I was talking to for a second.”
“I’m sorry about your friends,” Brooke's voice softens.
“Yeah,” Naomi looks down for a second before meeting her eyes again. “I am too.”
Brooke nods once, then cuts right to it. “I asked Travis to bring you here because I need your help. Really, your influence.”
Naomi looks between them, guarded. “With what?”
Brooke takes a breath. “Seth has two siblings. Their mom, Samantha, was murdered. We traced the kids to a foster home, but Grant is probably already looking for them.”
Naomi’s expression freezes.
“We need a way in,” Brooke leans in slightly. “Quietly, without police or social workers or raising any alarms. If you staged some kind of TikTok contest or influencer meet-up at their school, it might give us a shot at finding them without tipping anyone off.”
Naomi blinks. “So you want me to help you kidnap two children.”
Brooke doesn’t flinch. “Technically, yeah. But they’re his family. And they’ve got no one left. Samantha is dead. They’re next.”
Naomi’s voice sharpens. “I just watched people get massacred at a hotel. I’ve been trying to keep a low profile since. I thought if I went off-grid, they wouldn’t come for me too.”
“I know,” Brooke's expression softens. “I hate asking. But this is our only shot. If we wait too long, they won’t be there anymore.”
“I wouldn’t ask you if we had any other option,” Travis rubs a hand across the back of his neck before meeting Naomi's eyes again. “But you’re the only one who could pull something like this off without it looking suspicious.”
Naomi crosses her arms tight around her chest. “And you think they’ll just show up to some random TikTok contest?”
Brooke’s voice softens. “They’re kids. They’re online. They’re probably watching you already. We just need a way in.”
Naomi stares at her, her jaw set. After a long pause, she mutters, “Wow, I’m going to commit a felony with three people I met at a hotel. Great.”
Brooke smiles, and it is the first time I have seen her relax in days. “Thank you, seriously.”
I'm still standing at the top of the stairs. Quietly watching, trying to listen and process. Beau catches my eye and motions for me to follow him toward the office. I drag my feet behind him. Once we are in the office, Beau turns around and leans against the desk, his arms crossed.
Beau looks me dead in the eye. “I’m not apologizing for taking her.”
I shake my head. “Didn’t think you would.”
“She did what you couldn’t do. What you weren’t ready to do.”
My jaw shifts. “I know.”
“She did it for you,” Beau adds. “For Samantha. For every fucked-up thing Grant ever did to both of you.”
I run a hand through my hair. “Yeah.”
“She’s not just surviving, Seth. She’s doing what we do. What you taught her to do.”
I stay silent. I let it settle in. I let it burn a little.
Beau doesn’t stop.
“I know what it’s like to lose your parents. I know how grief fucks you up. It makes you want to shut down. But you can’t afford to shut down right now.”
“I’m not shutting down.”
“You’re spiraling.”
“I’m trying not to fucking kill everything in my way.”
“Well, we don’t have time for you to fall apart. The kids need us. Brooke needs you. You can break later. Right now, we’ve got a mission.”
I stare at him, my pulse pounding.
He claps me once on the shoulder. “Let’s go get your siblings. Then we kill Grant. Then you can lose your shit, curl up in a ball, whatever the hell you need. But not now.”
I nod slowly. Not because I’m okay.
But because he’s right.
“Let’s go get them.”
It's just after six a.m. when we hit the road. Southbound this time, out of Washington and deep into Oregon. The van hums steady beneath us, every mile dragging us closer to a place I wasn’t sure I was ready for.
It's a six-and-a-half-hour drive with no music and no distractions.
Just the muted rumble of tires on asphalt and the occasional whisper of wind slipping in through the window.
No one really talks. Brooke sits beside me with her knees tucked up, scrolling through the latest news on her phone. Travis drives while Naomi keeps her headphones in, probably rehearsing whatever the hell she is going to say once we get there.
And me, I stare out the window. I watch the trees blur.
I replay Samantha’s voice in my head. The moment she looked into the camera, her lips trembling, her eyes locked on mine before the screen went black.
I haven’t spoken about it. I just keep seeing it.
Over and over, like the footage carved itself into my brain.
I clench my jaw and force my thoughts back to the plan.
We are going straight to Jefferson High School. Travis says Elise and Ryan are enrolled under their foster placement. It is a public high school with weak security, so we have a decent shot if we move fast.
By the time we reach the outskirts of the city, it is just after noon. We pull into a strip mall parking lot across the street from the school and switch vehicles, trading the van for a nondescript SUV Beau wired and stashed. It is less obvious and easier to ditch if things go sideways.
From the top of the lot, we have a clear view of the school entrance.
The bell hasn’t rung yet, but kids are already gathering out front.
Some wait on rides, others hang around like they don’t want to go home.
It is all backpacks, skateboards, Bluetooth speakers, loud voices, the usual teenage noise.
Naomi takes a long breath, then flips down the visor mirror and reapplies her lipstick. She tightens her hoodie, brushes her hair to one side, and gives a small half-smile.
“Ready?” Brooke asks her softly.
Naomi shrugs. “As I’ll ever be.”
Brooke hands her the mic tucked under her collar and shows her the hidden signal trigger disguised as a playlist remote. One tap to speak to us. Two taps to abort. Naomi opens the door.
She walks straight into the chaos like it is just another brand deal. Confident. Camera-ready. The crowd notices her almost immediately. A couple of girls point first. Then recognition spreads through the front of the school.
“Oh my God, Naomi Mills?”
“That’s her. That’s Naomi!”
Within seconds, she is swarmed. Teens shout her name with their phones raised high. A few push in for selfies. Some are already live-streaming. She smiles, poses, says a few words, and waves to a group hanging by the steps.
I hate how easy it is. I don’t remember being this impressed by anyone when I was a kid. But it works.
Then I see them.
Two kids stand off to the side of the crowd. They aren't part of the chaos. They just watch.
Elise stands stiff, her arms crossed over her chest. Her curly hair hits her shoulders. She's tall for her age, and has piercings along her ear and nose. She looks like our mom just with a harder edge.
Ryan stands a little behind her. His dark hair falls into his eyes. He looks skinny and restless. He doesn’t look like Samantha or me, but his eyes are hers. The same soft brown that used to watch me from the kitchen window while I played in the yard.
My pulse hits hard.
“That’s them,” I say. “Front right. She’s in the red hoodie. He’s next to her.”
Beau leans forward. “I see them.”
Naomi spots them too. She starts moving toward them through the crowd, calling their names low enough that only they can hear.
I turn and scan the street. That's when I see it.
A black van with tinted windows and no plates.
It pulls in from the cross street, idles for a second, then rolls to the curb across from the school. Two men in black step out. Their movements are quick. One checks the street. The other adjusts something under his sweatshirt.
“Company,” Beau says sharply. “Two o’clock. Black van. Armed.”
“Shit,” I mutter.
Brooke is already clicking the comms. “Naomi. We’ve got a situation. Get them now. You need to move.”
Naomi doesn’t hesitate. She turns to Elise and Ryan. “You need to come with me right now,” she says. “You’re not safe.”
They hesitate. Of course they do. They don’t know her. Elise steps back. Ryan looks ready to run.
The two men start crossing the street.
“Naomi,” Brooke snaps. “Move. Now!”
Naomi reaches forward and grabs Elise’s wrist, then Ryan’s.
A gun comes out.
The first shot cracks through the air.
Screams tear through the schoolyard. Students drop to the pavement and dive behind anything they can find. Phones hit the ground. Chaos erupts.
Naomi doesn’t flinch. She yanks both kids toward her and runs.
Brooke throws it open from inside the SUV.
Naomi runs full speed, dragging the kids behind her. Another shot fires and sparks against the curb beside them. A third shatters the rear window of the SUV.
Naomi dives into the open door with Elise and Ryan. Brooke pulls them in and covers them with her body.
Travis hits the gas.
The men break into a sprint, trying to close the gap.
I climb halfway out the window and fire. Travis peels out of the lot, tires screaming against the pavement. A bullet slams into the back of the SUV, but we are already turning onto the street.
In the rearview mirror, I see the men dive back into the black van.
“They’re tailing!” Travis shouts from the front.
We weave through traffic.
And just like that, it is us and them, burning south with two kids in the backseat who have no idea who the hell we are or what kind of war they just got pulled into