Leah's POV
The elevator doors slid shut behind me, sealing away the last of the daylight. The humming helicopter lights buzzed overhead, casting a cold glow over the stretcher where Cole writhed. His restraints creaked, the leather biting into his skin as he arched against them, his muscles knotting in unnatural ways. The paramedics' faces were tight, their knuckles white around the gurney rails. They didn't understand. How could they?
Leo, what have you done to that poor soul?
The thought scraped against my ribs like a claw. Cole's eye - wild, bloodshot - locked onto mine for a second, and I saw it - the flicker of a man still trapped inside the ruin of his own body. Then it was gone, swallowed by whatever poison my brother had sunk into his veins.
Seth's wail cut through the hallway before I even saw him.
"Where's my food?!"
I tossed the greasy paper bag at his chest. He fumbled it, his outrage already boiling over as he ripped into the takeout like a starved dog. "Where are my spring rolls?!" His screech was theatrical, but the betrayal in his eyes was real.
Shit. The Spring rolls.
"Maybe they forgot to pack them?" I snapped, shoving past him. "Maybe I forgot to tell to them."
The paramedics hesitated at the basement door, their confusion palpable. I jerked my chin toward the shadowed stairwell. "Just go ahead. Give the food bag to the man with mad eyes. Don't worry, he won't bite."
They exchanged glances but obeyed. Good. I didn't have the patience to explain that my brother's genius lived in the same skull as his madness, that the basement reeked of both antiseptic and blood because of it.
Seth was still ranting, his voice climbing to a whine. "I'm a growing teenager, not a fucking gumball machine! I am with fucking emotions and nutritional need! You can't just kidnap me, ground me in this fucking place, and tossed me some porns without feeding me properly! I said two hot spring rolls! I specifically told you that! How coud you forget?!"
I frowned. "Because I was being chased by a gigantic truck and I almost died?"
Seth was furious while shoving food into his mouth. "From which I saved your ass! I can't believe it! I've been laboring all day to come up with the hologram projector for you! It took me ten fucking hours to make it and now I'm starving to death because you forgot to bring me sping rolls!"
"It's just food, Seth, not love." I tried to reason with him.
This set Seth on fire. He immediately turned into a grumpy child, throwing a tantrum like there was no tomorrow. "Do not try to lecture me about forming a healthy relationship with my food! I want my spring rolls and I want them now! Talking about love! I can't feel any in this household! And Sharbo's fucking starving as well! Where's her fresh sardines? Don't you tell me that you forgot bringing her sardines as well!"
"Okay, enough with the third degree. If Sharbo's starving and you want to do something about it, go fish for her by yourself! The sea is just out there!" I hissed, rounding on him. The weight of the day pressed down - the truck, Cole, the child growing inside me like a time bomb. Seth's tantrum was a spark to tinder. "Or should I toss you in the tank instead? See if she prefers complaining about her snacks?"
His mouth snapped shut. For a second, I thought I'd won. Then I realized there was no winner in this argument. But it was too late. Seth's lip curled. "You suck as a mother!"
The words struck deeper than they should have. "I am your boss!"
"Oh, really?! Then act like one and bring me two spring rolls!" Seth snarled.
Darren appeared then, silent as always, two fishing rods balanced in his hands. He offered one to Seth like a peace treaty. "We'll fix it," he murmured, his voice the calm beneath my storm.
Seth snatched the rod, but his glare didn't soften. "You're not my dad."
"No," Darren agreed. "But I am the one keeping your mom from throwing you into the shark tank."
"Arghhhhhh! If Sharbo wasn't starving to death right now, I wouldn't let you get away with this one so easily!"
Seth stomped off, but not before slamming the hologram projector into my palm - a sleek little box humming with potential. "It took the best minds in NSA more than 50 years and they still failed to come up with something nowhere near this one," he spat. "whil I only spent 10 hours on bringing it to life. You're fucking welcome by the way!"
Then he was gone, the echo of his dramatics lingering like cheap perfume.
Darren's arms wrapped around me, his chest solid against my back. For a moment, I let myself sag into him.
I was right. He'd be a good father. Patient. Steady. Everything I wasn't.
Seth was right. I suck as a mother. How could I forget those damn spring rolls?!
The thought twisted like a knife. Lucas' face suddenly flashed behind my eyelids - gaunt, fevered, his empty chest heaving up and down in pain.
I pulled away abruptly. "Go. Fish with Seth. Keep him from drowning himself in self-pity."
Darren's fingers brushed my wrist, questioning. But he didn't push. He walked away.
I couldn't help myself but drag him towards me.
The kiss I dragged him into was more teeth than tenderness, a silent thank you and I'm sorry tangled together. His lips were warm. Familiar. For a heartbeat, I wanted to cling to that warmth, to forget the basement, the blood, the ticking clock of my own fate.
Then I let go.
"Be careful," I whispered.
His smile was a ghost. "Always."
The basement door yawned open as I descended, the air thickening with the scent of copper and damp. Cole's moans slithered up the stairs, mingling with Leo's muttered curses.
Somewhere, a monitor beeped - a steady, mocking rhythm.
The kind that sounds like a countdown.