Borrowed Courage

Chapter Four

Well shit. Was Brooke's first thought. It's actually him. It's actually Kaleb Finch.

For some reason, hearing him admit it himself made the truth even harder to swallow, but she choked it down. Now wasn't the time to start questioning her own sanity. She needed answers, and it wasn't lost on Brooke that with Kaleb as trapped and vulnerable as he was, it would be all too easy to get them. He knew it too, which was probably why his desperate struggling had ceased the moment he'd revealed his identity, and he was now looking up at her with those tiny, alert eyes.

Waiting for her to make the first move.

A smirk worked its way onto Brooke's face, as hard as she tried to control it. Oh, how the tables have turned.

"Y'know, for the longest time I wondered why you cared so much about my dad's work." She said casually. "Guess now it all makes sense."

Kaleb bit back a glare at her condescending tone. "Well I'm glad this has been as enlightening for you as it has for me." His voice dripped with sarcasm. "Yes, I'm a borrower. Any other questions?"

"Oh, I can think of a few."

Brooke stared at him for a moment, watching his tiny chest heave against her grasp. Despite growing up knowing about her father's line of work, Brooke had never actually held a borrower before—much less Kaleb fucking Finch, but that was another story. She reached out with her free hand to pinch one of his tiny arms between her fingers, bemusement settling on her face. Borrowers really were fragile. When his breath hitched in his throat as he tried valiantly to pull the appendage away, she raised an eyebrow.

"What, scared I'm gonna rip off your little arms and legs?" She smirked, releasing him at last. This is gonna be fun. "For the record, that was a joke."

"Well, it wasn't funny!" He snapped in defiance, but that didn't stop him from tucking his arms protectively to his chest.

Brooke snorted. "Sorry, giving a shit isn't my strong suit."

"Well if you don't give a shit, then let me go and we can forget this ever happened!"

"Oh?" She hedged. "Just a minute ago, you were practically begging for my help. Why the change of heart?"

"What do you think?" Kaleb snapped up at her, breathing hard. "Trust me, if I'd've known it was you, I would've kept my mouth shut!"

Brooke smirked. "But you didn't." She said knowingly. "And now here we are."

"Yeah, just my fucking luck. I knew your family ran out of money, but I didn't think you'd move here."

For some reason, that snippy remark sent a burst of anger through her, and she clenched her fist tighter around him. "Right, because you know everything about my family, don't you?"

Kaleb grimaced in pain, straining against her grip in a way they both knew was useless. "Can we talk—nghh—without the grabbing?"

She stared at him for a moment, lips pursed. In all truthfulness, she didn't want to be holding him just as much as he didn't want to be held. Luckily, she already had a backup plan coming to mind that would solve both of their problems. Well, mine at least. "Fine. But you're going to answer my questions."

"Was that a threat?" He gasped out despite the fingers constricting his lungs. "You really are your father's daughter, huh?" At her positively scathing expression, he grinned darkly and retorted. "What, did you think I'd be afraid of you or something?"

Brooke's expression hardened. "You are afraid of me." She replied, squeezing him harder. "It's written all over your face."

That shut him up. As she carried him downstairs and into the apartment's community kitchen, she swore that just for a moment, she could feel his tiny body trembling in her grasp. Ignoring him, Brooke rummaged through the shelves, cringing at the thick layer of dust and grime that seemed to coat practically everything. All the while, she could feel those tiny eyes tracking her movements, wary but alert— the default expression for a borrower.