Chapter 83
Brooke
The dining table is covered in pencil shavings, scratch paper, and half-empty water bottles.
Elise has her chemistry book open. Ryan is hunched over his notebook, chewing the end of his pencil.
Ryan’s hand is on Luna’s head under the table, scratching the spot behind her ears that makes her eyes half close.
Luna stays draped across his lap. Krueger lies on the floor with his body tucked close to my feet, watchful and calm.
His ears flick every time someone shifts. He doesn’t miss anything.
Seth sits between them with a pen in his hand. He looks at the worksheet like it’s a problem he can solve with enough patience and enough blunt force.
“Okay,” he taps the page. “This is what they want. Strong acids dissociate more completely in water. Weak acids don’t. That difference changes pH, and that changes how fast reactions happen.”
Elise squints at the numbers. “Why do I have to learn chemistry again? This stuff makes me feel stupid.”
“It’s not you,” Seth drags the book closer and flips the pencil between his fingers. “It’s the way they explain it. Look.”
He writes a few steps out, slower than he normally does anything, and slides the paper toward her. His pen taps the equation again.
“This part is the whole problem. If you understand what’s dissociating and what isn’t, the rest is just math.”
Ryan leans in. “So HCl is strong, right?”
Seth nods. “Yeah. Hydrochloric acid is strong. It breaks apart easily in water.”
Elise points at another line. “And this one?”
“Acetic acid is weak,” Seth circles part of the equation as he speaks. “It still reacts, but not the same way. That’s why the pH changes differently.”
He pauses and looks up at both of them, like he’s deciding how to translate this into something they’ll remember.
“If you mix the wrong stuff, somebody passes out.” His eyes drop back to the worksheet. “If you mix other wrong stuff, somebody won't wake up.”
Elise’s eyes narrow. “That’s not helpful.”
A faint smirk pulls at Seth's mouth. “It is helpful. It just depends on the situation.”
Ryan lifts his head. “Is that going to be on the test?”
Seth’s mouth twitches. “It should be.”
I shoot Seth a look over my wine glass.
He glances at me like he can feel it. “What?”
“You know what,” I narrow my eyes at him.
He points his pen at the book again. “I’m teaching them chemistry.”
“You’re teaching them crime,” I mutter.
Elise snorts before she can stop herself. Then she covers it with a cough like she’s embarrassed she laughed.
Seth finally looks amused. “Acids deteriorate flesh,” he flips his pen, still looking at the page. “That’s chemistry. Not crime.”
I lower my glass slowly. “Seth.”
He turns his head just enough to meet my eyes. “What? It’s true.”
Ryan makes a noise that might be a laugh. “That is so gross.”
“It’s accurate,” Seth shrugs and taps the worksheet again. “Accuracy gets you points.”
Elise stares at the worksheet again. “I hate this.”
“No, you don’t,” Seth replies. “You just don’t understand it yet.”
Ryan points at a problem. “So is this one a strong acid or a weak acid?”
Seth leans closer and starts explaining. Elise finally solves the problem and shoves the paper toward Seth like she’s challenging him to tell her she’s wrong.
Seth scans it and nods once. “Correct.”
Elise sighs with a small smile. She tries to hide it, she can’t.
Ryan leans back and stretches. “Thank God.”
Seth closes the book and stands. “Go brush your teeth. Go to bed. You’ve had enough brain damage for one night.”
They gather their stuff and drag themselves down the hall, still arguing about whether chemistry is evil or just unfair. Their voices fade behind their bedroom doors.
The house settles.
The quiet that follows isn’t the same kind of quiet it used to be. It isn’t empty. It isn’t waiting to swallow me. A blanket left over the arm of a chair. A pair of Ryan’s socks abandoned near the hallway. A pencil on the table that nobody picked up.
I stare at it all for a second, and a feeling of contentment washes over me.
After my parents died, I spent years telling myself I didn’t need anyone. I learned how to carry grief by myself. I learned how to swallow loneliness and call it independence. I learned how to smile at people and keep the important parts locked away.
Then Seth showed up and changed everything.
Then Travis, Naomi, Beau, and somehow these two kids, Seth’s siblings, crashed into our lives and refused to leave.
This isn’t the family I imagined when I was younger. It’s not picture perfect. It’s not safe in the way normal people mean safe. It’s rough around the edges and insane.
But it’s mine.
And I love it.
Seth comes back into the living room after checking the locks. He turns off the last lamp in the kitchen and leaves only the soft light by the couch. Then he sits beside me, grabbing my feet and placing them in his lap.
“You wanna pick the movie?” he asks.
“You can pick it.”
He grabs the remote and scrolls through options, stopping on something with a screaming woman on the cover and a title that looks like it was written to be obnoxious.
I glance at him. “You picked this on purpose.”
Seth’s mouth twitches. “Maybe.”
Krueger lifts his head and settles it back down. Luna hops off the chair and climbs onto the back of the couch, tail flicking once as she watches us.
Seth hits play.
The opening scene starts with heavy music and a dark hallway.
I lean into Seth without thinking. His hand rests under the blanket on my thigh, thumb lazily stroking, his other arm stretched behind me. I’m just starting to drift when his phone buzzes on the coffee table.
He picks it up, sees the name, and grins. “Travis.”
He answers and hits speaker. “You better not be calling to interrupt. Brooke was just telling me how good I am with my tongue.”
I slap his chest, half-laughing, half-mortified.
Travis groans. “For fucks sake I don’t know why I still talk to you.”
“Because you miss us,” Seth mutters.
“‘Miss you’ is generous. I’m calling because I have something you’re gonna want to hear.”
“What?”
“I found him,” Travis replies.
Seth shifts under me. “Who?”
“John. He’s in Florida. Island off the coast. I traced a dummy shell account back to a private villa. There’s a yacht. Security. He’s not hiding, he’s recruiting.”
Seth glances at me, heat gone cold behind his eyes.
“Wanna go to Florida?”
I meet his gaze with no hesitation.
“Hell yeah.”