Page 99 of Theirs to Hunt
Just her fingers in mine, warm and real.
"Well, keep testing it," I said.
"Push. Bite. Burn it down if you have to. I’ll still be here."
She turned to look at me.
And for a second, she didn’t speak.
Just watched me like she wasn’t used to being believed.
"Brooks..."
"Yeah?"
"If I said I wanted to stay right here for a while... just this...?"
I squeezed her hand.
"Then I’ll shut up and sit with you until the sun comes up."
She didn’t say thank you.
She didn’t need to.
She just curled in a little closer, rested her head on my shoulder, and exhaled.
Chapter seventy-nine
Reagan, Monday 08:00 p.m.
The silence with Brooks wasn’t oppressive, it was easy and warm, like him. Everything with Brooks was easy. Unlike with his father. I knew I needed both, the sweet and the spice. It kept me on my toes.
His hoodie smelled of soap and smoke, and his hand in mine felt solid, something you could lean into without worrying it would disappear.
I stared out at the trees, their limbs swaying freely.
"Can I tell you something?" I asked, my voice low.
Brooks didn't move, didn't push. Just gave my hand the faintest squeeze.
"Yeah. Always."
I let the words sit on the edge of my tongue for a second. They tasted strange. Bitter and soft at the same time. "I've never had anyone," I said. "Not this."
He didn't speak, didn't interrupt, and somehow that made it easier.
"My mom… she wasn't cruel. Not exactly. Just cold. She did what she had to, kept the lights on, made sure I had clothes, remembered the basics. But that was it. No bedtime stories. No I-love-you. Half the time she looked through me. I was a window"
Brooks stayed still, but I felt his grip on me tighten just slightly.
"I learned real fast how to do everything myself. Pay the bills, fix the car, fake a smile. Nobody was coming. Except Bobbie.And her mom, Momma Nell… she was the only adult who ever looked at me I was someone worth loving. I used to pretend she was mine. That I just got dropped off in the wrong house by accident." I blinked fast, but the tears still blurred the stars. "I think that's why this," I gestured between us, to the patio, the night, the weight of everything "feels so… unreal. Like I should run before I ruin it."
Brooks turned then, just enough to face me, his thumb brushing over the back of my hand.
"You're not gonna ruin anything," he said. "You're not broken, Reagan.
You're just… strong in a way most people never had to be."
