Transparent (17 page)

After who knows how long, Brady sighs. “You’re doing it again.”

“What?”

He lets out a short chuckle. “You’re brooding, just like Seth.”

That only makes me blush harder. “Why would you say that?”

He tilts his head. “Why not?”

“It’s just … you can’t compare me to your brother.” I try to compose myself. Brady can’t see what I’m feeling, so he doesn’t know that I ever liked him or that I just realized I don’t so much anymore. Sometimes it rocks to be invisible.

“It’s not a bad thing. He’s my best friend.”

I pause, my heart warming. “He is?”

“Of course he is.” Brady leans his head back. “We’ve been through everything together. I know he can be intense, but he’s so used to being the grown-up, it’s hard for him to chill out. That’s not him, though. That’s the person he has to be to get us through stuff.”

So that’s what Brady meant when he said they have different ways of coping. “Seth likes to fix everything, doesn’t he?”

He nods. “Dad’s been useless since … you know. Without Seth and the Navarros, we’d have probably ended up in foster care, which is a fast track to a syndicate when you have abilities like ours.”

“Ours?” My eyebrows rise. “What would they want with Seth?”

He fidgets with his collar, then nudges me. “Last I heard, money was important to syndicates. Seth would make an amazing accountant.”

“True … I guess. But what are you not telling me?”

His eyes go wide. “Nothing!”

A crash sounds from the front of the house, followed by crackling plastic bags. “Brady! Get your lazy ass out here!” Seth calls.

My heart stops at the sound of his voice, and whatever we were talking about is forgotten.

Brady rushes out to help Seth, but my legs don’t seem to be working properly. I walk slowly down the hallway, my heart pounding at my rib cage. As much as I want to see him, I’m scared at the same time. If I tell him how I feel, there’ll be no going back.

“I told you to get him up!” Seth yells, and I pause in the hall, unsure if I should interrupt. “He can’t do this again. I don’t care if he doesn’t like the changes; it’s time to freaking move on.”

“Yeah, but—” Brady starts.

“No buts! I’m so sick of this.” A cabinet slams. “We just have to make it until I graduate and then—”

“Seth! Will you shut up for just one second? I have to tell you something!”

“What?” he says as he follows Brady’s gaze to me. His eyes go wide, and he turns red. “Oh, Fiona. I didn’t realize you were here.”

I open my mouth to say something, but nothing comes as his blue eyes look for mine. Then guilt immediately strikes. Seth is so stressed out dealing with his own stuff, and here I am ready to drop all of my problems on him, too.

“I’m, uh, gonna go mow the lawn.” Brady bolts for what I assume is the garage door. It slams behind him.

“Did something happen?” Seth asks.

“No. Nothing.” I squeeze my eyes shut, refusing to let the tears come at the thought of how little time I could have left.

“Nothing? You haven’t heard anything about your dad yet?”

“No.”

“Okay …” Seth stares at the floor, hands in his pockets. I’m pretty sure he didn’t want me hearing about even more of his problems.

I search for something neutral to talk about. “Do you need help with those?”

“Sure.” He grabs the bags, seeming relieved. “These go in the fridge.”

We unpack the groceries in virtual silence, save for his directions on where to put things. After he stuffs the plastic bags in a drawer, he leans on the counter and starts sifting through bills. I sit on a stool, unsure what to do. I hate to be in the way, but I don’t have anywhere to go. And if I’m being honest, I don’t
want
to be anywhere else. If Miles would just text me back, I’d know if it was safe to relax with Seth.

He sighs, shoving the envelopes away. “I’m sorry, okay?”

“Huh?”

“I know I was being a jerk to Brady. I’m not gonna bite your head off, so you don’t have to be so quiet. I just …” He practically crumbles onto the counter. “Damn, I’m just so sick of this.”

“I …” I’m not sure what to say. Seth never shows weakness, but it looks like he’s about to break in two.

“I can’t do this anymore, Fiona. The only reason my dad still has a job is because I make sure he’s dressed every morning. He’d rather spend all day in his room than talk to us. I’ve done everything I can think of to make things better, and nothing works.” He looks up at me, and I can almost see him sucking in his feelings, putting the pride back in place. “So, sorry. I’m not mad at you.”

I look down. “That’s not why I was being quiet.”

“Oh.” Seth and I seem to have become masters of the awkward silence. “Then what?”

“I texted Miles this morning, and he hasn’t answered yet. I’m worried something happened to him. I wanted to tell you, but I didn’t want to stress you out more.”

He lets out a little laugh. “Well, aren’t we a pair.”

I manage a smile. “Our families are jacked up.”

“And there’s nothing we can do about it.”

“Ugh.” I run a hand over my face. I’m sick of this, too. I’m sick of living in fear, sick of worrying myself to death, sick of being so helpless. Just thinking about stewing all day makes me tired. This itch runs through my bones, like I might snap if I don’t move. “Seth.”

“Hmm?”

“Let’s get out of here. We could drive to that movie theater in Saguro and get lunch after or something.”

His cheeks go pink. “What?”

“We both have stuff we need to forget for a while. So let’s just have fun.”

He purses his lips. “But we were supposed to put in the floors today.”

“Lame excuse. Brady can do that himself. Just leave a note.” The more I think about this, the better I feel. Get out. Run away. Forget. I just want to hang out with Seth and not think about what could be waiting for me at the house. This could be the last day I ever see him, and I have to know if what I’m feeling is real.

“I don’t know. He might not do it right, and then I’ll have to—”

“Oh, c’mon!” I stand up, grab his arm, and head for the door. “We both deserve one day of slacking off.”

He pulls back. “That was last night.”

“Seth Mitchell.” I put my hands on my hips. “Stop being so anal. When was the last time you did anything for yourself?”

“Fiona …”

I can tell he doesn’t even know the answer. He’s doing everything he possibly can to take care of the people he loves. He never thinks about himself. It’s always give, give, give until he’s got nothing left but fatigue and agitation.

All I want to do is make him smile.

My hands drop off my hips. “Just come, okay?” I look at Bea’s flip-flops on my feet. “Can’t you hang out with me today?”

He lets out a long sigh. “Fine.”

“Really?”

He goes back to the counter, scribbles something on a piece of paper. “C’mon.”

On the way down, Seth cranks the radio, and I let my fingers hang out the window. The air catches them, and I move my hand up and down like I’m making waves. Today it doesn’t feel like the sun is trying to melt me to death. The desert is perfect as winter approaches, cool mornings and warm afternoons. Just staring out at the distant mesas puts me at ease.

We don’t say much, but there’s this freedom in the air I can’t get over. My problems are falling further behind every second. Madison isn’t even in sight anymore, just endless desert. I almost want to ask Seth to keep driving until the tank runs dry.

The Saguro movie theater is a tacky dollar place that looks about eighty years old, but I don’t care. I haven’t gone to a movie in forever—not since Miles was living at home. And the place is empty this early in the day, so I can put my feet up on the seat in front of me.

“Man, this movie’s lame,” Seth says about fifteen minutes in.

“Shut up.” We picked the only comedy, figuring we should keep with the fun theme of this outing. It’s about some ultragifted guys trying to go undercover as normal—hilarity supposedly ensues. “That joke was … totally not obvious.”

He smiles. “Ten bucks that guy falls in a vat of something at some point.”

“Twenty if it’s chocolate.”

“You’re on.” He laughs, which I hope means he’s actually having a good time. I am, too, even more now that he’s smiling. Then he bumps my elbow on the armrest. “Oh, sorry, I didn’t realize …”

“No worries.” That tingling thing is back. I can’t believe how much I like being with him now, and I have to know if the feeling’s mutual. I take a deep breath. “You know, we don’t have to fight for the armrest. I think we’ve learned how to share.”

He looks at me, clearly surprised. Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea—maybe I’m totally misreading him—but then he smiles. His arm slides up against mine, and he leans in a little. “Look at us, getting along.”

I smile. Being this close to him is electrifying, and I find myself wishing he’d hold my hand. “We better find coats, because hell has probably frozen over.”

“And umbrellas, because flying pigs drop some serious shit.”

I laugh louder at that than anything that’s happened in the movie.

The rest of the show is lame, but it doesn’t matter because criticizing it is half the fun. It’s almost like a game, with Seth and I competing for best snarky comment.

“He got hot fudge poured on him! That should count!” I protest as we leave the theater.

Seth shakes his head. “But the vat was marshmallow. You owe me lunch.”

My shoulders slump. “Fine.”

We decide to walk to the diner, since getting in the hot truck and driving there would be more uncomfortable. The perfect weather makes me want to go for a long run.

“So, train one is going fifty miles an hour—” Seth starts.

“No!” I shove him. “Math is
not
fun. We’re not doing math today.”

He smirks. “But I think math
is
fun, and we still have to figure out how to get you to pass that test.”

The test is the last thing on my mind at this point. “Why do you like math so much? I mean, you’re good at it, yay, but I’m good at robbing jewelry stores, and I certainly don’t love that.”

He laughs, though I didn’t realize I was being funny. “Math is … I don’t know.”

“C’mon, you do, too.”

He sighs. “Fine. It’s the answers, okay?”

“Answers?” I look up at him, realizing just how tall he is. For most guys I don’t have to crane my neck.

“Yeah.” He chews the inside of his cheek. “Once you know the rules, there’s always an answer to an equation. All you have to do is follow the steps and then, just like that, you have an answer.”

“I see…” I don’t see.

He rolls his eyes. “Liar.”

I wish I could stick my tongue out or something. “Just keep talking, jerk.”

He doesn’t for a second, and I wonder if I’ve pushed him one step too far. It’s not like he talks about himself all the time. But then he takes a breath. “I can’t fix anything in my real life, not Dad or Brady or … myself. Math has answers. I can fix any problem in math. So sue me if I like it.”

I smile. “I guess I can understand that, but I still hate it.”

A diner is in sight, one that had to be built in the fifties by the look of its old sign and retro style. There’s even a classic motorcycle parked out front, one that reminds me of …

“You don’t have to like it, you just have to—”

I put my hand on Seth’s arm. “Wait.”

“What?”

I gulp as I scan the diner’s windows. I’m being paranoid. There are probably hundreds of electric-blue motorcycles in the Southwest. Just because there happens to be one here doesn’t mean
he’s
here.

“Fiona, you’re freaking me out. What?”

I freeze when I look in the farthest window to the left. Graham’s there, sipping his usual beer, but that’s not the worst part. He’s there with a man I’d recognize anywhere. Curly hair, fair skin, and an aura reeking of power and money. I turn around immediately, dragging Seth with me.

“Will you tell me what the hell is going on?”

“My … my …” I feel sick, but my legs propel me forward.
Run. Just run.
“My dad’s in there.”

Seth doesn’t say another word as we sprint for his truck, and I’m glad. I don’t think I can explain or even speak in an intelligible manner. My dad’s right there. If he’d looked out the window, he would have seen me. Everything I have here would have been over the second I breathed in his scent.

“Where to?” Seth asks when we jump in the truck.

I’m surprised that I know the exact place I need to go. “My house.”

His eyes go wide. “Are you kidding? Don’t you want to get out of here? I can drive you to Tucson or something; you can hop a train or a bus to anywhere from there.”

It makes sense, and I’d be lying if I said I didn’t want to on some level. But I can’t.

“I have to get Miles and my mom out if I can. Maybe we can beat Graham home if they just started lunch. I can’t leave Miles. I … can’t leave her.”

The truth of it hits me. We might not have the best relationship in the world, but she’s still my mom. What little freedom I’ve had I owe to her, and I’ve never even said thanks. So I have to at least try.

“All right.” Seth revs the engine. “I’ll drive as fast as this piece of junk can go.”

That would be approximately seventy-one miles an hour. The truck shudders down the long stretch of road, and I tell myself it’s fast enough. If I don’t, then I’ll be too scared to go back. I don’t have time to second-guess myself.

I pull out my phone to text Miles.

Call me, please.

I can’t text the details, in case Dad is already spying on our words remotely. But it doesn’t matter, because he still doesn’t text me back. Hugging my knees to my chest, I can’t help but think the worst.

But even if it is a trap, I still have to go.

Maybe I can sneak in and free them. It’s not like I’m completely helpless. I have lots of training, and kidnapping shouldn’t be much harder than stealing, especially if the people want to be stolen.

We pull up to my house. Everything looks normal. Miles’s car is parked in the driveway; the blinds are all shut tight. No extra vehicles, no evidence of what might be happening inside.