Steamer Lane

Seth POV

It’s past eleven-thirty in the morning, and Brooke still hasn’t woken up. I can’t blame her; if I could sleep soundly for hours on end, I definitely would. Not that I know what it’s like to sleep through the night, but I imagine it’s nice. Even Raffi has already woken up and left, taking Apollo for one of his weekend hikes.

I head to the living room and turn on the TV. Cerberus and Banguela follow me and lie down at my feet. I decide to play Call of Duty until she shows up. If I weren’t sure that if she woke up and there was no one at home to take her, she would go alone, I might risk going to the studio and tattooing for a few hours. But Brooke wouldn’t wait, so the best thing to do is wait.

After a while, I hear some noises coming from the kitchen. Cerberus is the first to investigate, and when I approach, I see Brooke crouched down, petting his fluffy ears. Her blonde hair is tied up in a bun she apparently made herself. She’s wearing an extremely oversized t-shirt, which I assume is Kyle’s since she wasn’t wearing it yesterday.

"Do you want a cookie, boy? Is that it?" she asks, starting to open the cabinets. When she stands up, I notice the t-shirt reaches halfway down her thighs and nothing more. Eyes up, Donahue. "I just need to find one."

"They’re in the cabinet to your left," I say.

She puts her hand on her chest, making the damn t-shirt ride up even more, and I see the black band of shorts, or rather, underwear.

"Hey, Seth, I thought no one was home. I didn’t even hear you come in." She grabs the cookies from where I said and gives one to Cerberus, and Banguela steps forward to avoid being forgotten. "Don’t tell your dad," she murmurs as if I’m not right there.

"Raffi and Kyle are out, but I thought it would be good to help you get your stuff." Her face scrunches up. "I can go alone if you want."

"I appreciate the offer, but it’s my mess, I need to deal with it. I shouldn’t have stayed. I’m already bothering you enough by moving in."

"Stop being so dramatic, Brooke. You don’t bother, you just spoil the dogs too much," I wink at her. "But you never bother. Ky wasn’t lying yesterday; the room has always been yours."

"You guys never said anything, none of you."

"I didn’t think it was necessary." I shrug. "Have some coffee and get ready. I’ll be in the living room." I turn to leave, but she calls me.

"Um… Seth?" I turn my head in her direction and see her twisting her fingers, clearly uncomfortable. "Do you have a pair of pants I can borrow? My dress from yesterday isn’t the best outfit for moving, and I don’t want to have to change there," she explains.

"It’s going to be huge on you, but I’ll see if I can find some with a drawstring so you can tighten them."

"Thanks."

***

As soon as Brooke is ready, we head out. We stop by Target and buy some cardboard boxes to make the process easier. With every kilometer bringing us closer to her old apartment, the blonde beside me grows quieter. I park the Chevrolet Silverado in front of the building and turn to her.

Brooke has her lower lip caught between her teeth as she stares at the building ahead.

"I can do this, Brooke. Just tell me what to grab."

"No, I will." She opens the door, and I grab her other hand before she gets out of the car, drawing her attention.

"We’ll go together; you’re not alone." Her shoulders seem to relax, and she smiles. This is better, I think.

"Let’s get this over with!"

She leads the way, and I follow carrying some boxes. Brooke stops in front of the door, takes a deep breath twice, inserts the key, and opens the door.

"Finally, you’re back home," I hear the worm say from inside the apartment.

"I’m here to get my things," the blonde clarifies and enters. I wait a minute before following, curious to see how the jerk will act when he thinks she’s alone.

"Brooke, honey, let’s talk," he says. "What the hell is this? Whose clothes are these?" I smile, knowing he’d be upset once he noticed.

"You bitch!" Now he’s gone too far. I move closer to the door as he continues yelling at her. "Is this why you broke up with me? To jump into another’s bed?"

"At least I had the decency to break up with you first."

I see he’s too close to her, his hand raised ready to slap her, but in two steps, I’m in front of him. I grab his wrist, squeezing firmly, wanting to break it, feeling his bones snap under my fingers.

"Watch how you speak to her, you worm." I twist his wrist until it’s almost fractured, and he whimpers in pain. "The boxes are at the door, Brooke, no rush," I say to her with a smile, applying more pressure to Patrick’s wrist.

"Seth…"

"Go ahead, we’re just going to talk," I smile, and she raises an eyebrow. It’s hard to believe me when I’m holding her ex’s arm at a painful angle.

"He’s not worth it."

"I know," I agree. She’s right, but he’s a man who thought he was strong enough to hit her with no consequences. Pleasure, consequence.

Brooke grabs the boxes and disappears toward the bedroom.

"Now, listen here, you worm. It’s over. You’re not going to think about her, talk to her, you’ll delete her number and forget Brooke exists. She was always too good for you anyway. You had your chance, decided to waste it, and that’s entirely your problem," I whisper in his ear. "Oh, I’d better give you a reminder." I twist his wrist until I hear a soft snap.

He screams, and I let go, soon Brooke appears in the living room with wide eyes.

"What happened?"

"Nothing, right, Patrick?"

He doesn’t answer, too busy holding his arm against his chest. Tears fill his eyes, pathetic. It’s not even broken, just dislocated.

"I’ve finished one box, let’s get going, I promise," she says, her eyes darting between me and Patrick, and I wonder if she’s trying to calm me or him.

As soon as she exits, I turn to the shrinking piece of crap.

"This is a reminder never to raise a hand to a woman again. You might think you’re stronger than they are, but there’s always someone stronger than you," I say slowly in a cold tone. "You should put some ice on that," I advise. I’m almost sitting on the couch when I remember why I’m here and opt to help Brooke.

In less than two hours, all her belongings are packed into boxes and loaded into the back of the truck, including her surfboard.

"Thank you," she murmurs as I start the car. Before turning onto the avenue, I glance at her, and she has a sad expression on her face as she gazes out the window.

"It was a pleasure." I start driving home, tuning the radio to a pop music station she likes, but she remains sulky.

I stop at a traffic light and turn to her.

"He doesn't deserve you, Little Bee." She smiles at the nickname, but the smile doesn't reach her eyes.

"I know, that's not it. I had planned to go to Steamer Lane today; it's been weeks since I've had time to surf," she explains, resting her chin on one hand and looking out at the city again.

If that's the issue, it's much easier to fix. As soon as I can, I make a turn, veering off the route that would take us home and onto the highway.

"Seth, you don't have to," she says, noticing the change.

"It's been a while since I've been to the beach, Brooke. Do you have everything you need?" I ask.

"I do, but seriously Seth, you don't have to."

"I didn’t say I had to, but I have the afternoon free and the day is beautiful," I affirm, glancing over to see her face light up with joy for the first time since she woke up. For that look? I'd take her to the moon.