18. Chapter 18

Chapter 18

Sebastian

As far as I was concerned, I was a simple man who derived pleasure from the simple things in life: time with my girlfriend, soft sweaters and warm blankets, and the occasional piece of extra-dark chocolate. But, out of every pleasant sensation, the feeling of a job done right was my favorite—and I was the best in my line of work. I just wished my boss would let me operate in the way I preferred.

The leather of my glove strained against the rope I was clutching as I pulled it harder. I lifted my sneaker and stomped down on the vertebrae that connected the Salem Slasher’s skull to her neck.

“Quit fucking moving ,” I snarled.

Murderers were the scum of the earth. None of them were ever truly remorseful until they were faced with the true consequences of their actions: me . Each and every one I snuffed out made the world a better place. Normally, I was allowed to terminate their meaningless existence however I saw fit, but this particular extermination was boring. I had been tasked with making it look like a suicide, and that just wasn’t my style.

I liked the gore that came with my job: the smell of iron, the sight of blood pouring from a gaping wound. I craved the fear in a monster’s eyes when they realized their game was over. But the agency was apparently getting tired of covering up my hack jobs. Unfortunately for them, I was too good at solving cases. They couldn’t get rid of me; even better, I was free to do whatever I wanted.

I let go of the rope, and the Slasher’s head lunged forward as she gasped for air. I rolled her onto her back, forcing her to look up at me as I grabbed my hunting knife from my belt. Her green eyes were wild with fear, and the feeling was intoxicating.

Slowly, I traced the back of my blade down her cheek. It felt like there was a hummingbird in my chest as a wicked smile tore at my lips.

“Marjorie Smith…. fifty-five… local therapist, pillar of the community,” I purred as her breath hitched. “How does it feel to be the one hunted, for once?”

Her leathery antique skin took on an ashen tone, and she swallowed hard.

“I... don’t know... what you’re talking about.”

“Oh, I think you do.” I flipped the blade of my knife, pressing it to her neck. “The Salem Slasher killed between twenty-five and thirty individuals within a ten-year period… just because you’ve been dormant for a decade doesn’t make you innocent.”

I applied a little more force, causing sanguine blood to weep from her. Soon, this room would be ripe with the scent of fresh blood, and I couldn’t wait.

The Slasher’s breathing grew frenzied, and she tried to push me off, but she wasn’t strong enough. They never were.

“Please, I can give you money, or—”

I stabbed the knife into the carpet just inches from her wretched face, and her eyes bulged like a guinea pig being held upside down. Sweat soaked her brow as she fought her screams.

“I’m not a monster, Marjorie. I’m a man with a job.”

With a heavy gulp, she met my gaze.

“People change. I’ve changed, please .”

I wrapped my finger around the handle of my knife before freeing it from the floor. From there, I shoved it through her hand. She shrieked, and God, I wished I could record that sound.

“T-there’s no difference between you and me,” she stuttered. “Whoever sent you is going to turn on you—”

Once again, I moved my knife, this time cutting directly through her jugular. Her words turned into a garbled shriek as she thrashed and twitched. But no one was coming to save her.

Once the Slasher stopped moving, I stood up and withdrew my knife.

“The difference between you and I is simple: I’m right, and you’re wrong.” I looked down at the corpse. “Also, I’m alive, and you’re not.”

A smirk tugged at my lips. I slipped out of my gloves before grabbing my burner phone. I’d have to spin one hell of a lie if I wanted my boss to believe this was self-defense, but the rush was well worth the inconvenience.

After returning to my hotel room and washing up, I was free to unwind and think about my top priority: Mason. Also, stopping the Sons of Christ. But mostly Mason.

The scratchy carpet of my hotel room stuck to my socks as I paced for a moment before grabbing my cigarettes and heading to the balcony. There was a bite in the air as I stepped outside and shut the sliding glass door behind me. My two top priorities were one and the same, really; Mason was in the lion’s den of my case. All I needed to do was call her and find out what she’d learned about Cameron.

I placed a filter between my lips as I pulled my phone from my pocket. I unlocked the phone and smiled at my lock screen. It was a digital version of Mason’s twenty-week sonogram, and if I held my thumb on the screen, I could see Lavender hiccup. My heart swelled as I thought about how close I was to my baby girl being in my arms instead of her mommy’s womb.

I loved that Mason was pregnant because it drew her to me, but I loved Lavender for a different set of reasons entirely. Building a life with Mason was my chance to have a family who was proud of me for who I was, not what I could do. Mason and Lavender didn’t care if I was a genius. They didn’t care that I had a bank account that was full to bursting. They just wanted my time.

I unlocked my device and found Mason’s contact. A phone call would suffice, but I missed my princess, so I started a video call. I adjusted my hair in the self-view as I waited for her to answer.

It took three rings for her to pick up. Mason’s face was half buried in a white pillow, and her eyes were squinted. She had an autumn-colored comforter around her shoulders, and concern washed over me. That wasn’t my blanket. Where was she?

I tried to put the gnawing doubt aside with an award-winning smile.

“Good morning, beautiful.”

She groaned and hid her face. “I feel like I’m going to vomit.”

Her accent was always thicker when she was tired, and I loved the way it sounded.

“You know Lavender hates when your stomach is empty,” I reminded her. “I left crackers on the nightstand for you.”

Did she not see them? No, yesterday was her first morning waking up without me. She didn’t complain then. That meant she probably saw them.

“I’m not—” Mason’s shoulders lurched as she fought off a gag. “I’m not in our room.”

My heart stopped.

“Where are you?”

Please don’t be in Lucian’s room. For the love of everything not terrible in this world, do not let it be Lucian’s room.

“Cameron’s room,” she mumbled, finally looking back. “You said you wanted me to join their relationship and not be alone…”

My shoulders fell, and it felt like I could breathe again. Now, to focus on the case.

“And I do. I’m glad you’re not alone.” I chuckled, hoping to mask any hint of jealousy in my voice.

“How is Cameron, anyway?”

Her cheeks flushed, and she squeaked. It seemed the trio was dragging my girl out of her shell, whether she wanted it or not. And while I was glad she was healing, I really had hoped to be the one to help her do it.

“He’s fine,” she breathed. “He took me out for ice cream last night.”

Oh.

That was faster than I had hoped. Cameron was certainly a smooth operator if he could convince her to go on a date before I even had a chance. I was sure I had at least a week before Mason would want to leave the house.

“Did you two talk about anything interesting?”

Ideally, he would’ve poured out his entire past for her, and she would tell me he was a murderer and a cult leader. But that wasn’t exactly realistic, so I could settle for at least learning who “Dale” was.

Mason struggled to sit up as she used Cameron’s pillows to prop herself up. She genuinely looked terrible—I wondered if I should text Lucian and ask him to make sure whatever room Mason fell asleep in had snacks on the bedside table. But, no, if she woke up and noticed him, it’d make him look like too much of a gentleman.

She swallowed hard before refocusing on the screen. That’s when I realized she wasn’t wearing her own shirt. Instead, she was in a denim blue button-down that almost swallowed her whole. She looked comfortable. But I didn’t like it.

“We talked about the stars and our zodiac signs,” she continued.

I fought the urge to grimace. Mason was a high school dropout; that wasn’t news to me. I just wished she could have smarter hobbies.

“... Cameron’s into astrology?”

Mason nodded. “He knew his big three and everything. And he was able to point out a couple of constellations for me.”

My jaw clenched tight as I swallowed the bitter taste of jealousy. I forced a smile and studied my reflection to make sure it looked genuine.

“As long as you’re happy and healthy, that’s what matters.” I was trying to convince myself of that. “Was he nice to you?”

Her tired eyes met mine through the screen before darting away. Then, her eyes lit up for a moment before she flipped the camera around and pointed it directly at her bump. She smoothed the stiff blue fabric down, and I could see tiny pops of movement. Normally, I loved seeing the baby move. It always made my heart flutter, and if I was home, I’d be rushing to feel them for myself. Right now, though, it annoyed me that Mason was changing the topic.

“Look at how much she’s moving today.”

It’s because you’ve actually been feeding her. Now answer my fucking question.

“And I love that.” I tried to sweeten my tone. “But I don’t want to see Lavender right now. I want to talk to her beautiful mommy.”

There was a beat of silence before Mason flipped the screen back around. There was guilt in her eyes, but I had no idea why.

“He was really nice. It almost felt natural…. but I like hanging out with you more.” Her rushed assurance filled me with buzzing doubt.

My first instinct was to tell her every detail of my case. I knew Mason would be scared off, especially if I told her Cameron was the serial killer. That part had yet to be proven, of course, but I could feel that I was on the right track. And here Mason was, discussing her fucking zodiac sign with this unbelievably dangerous individual. But she’d never believe me if I told her that Cameron was going to lock her in a burning building to find out if Lavender was the second coming of Christ. If I were somehow wrong, I’d never be able to earn back her trust.

So I just had to ignore the jealousy threatening to tear me in two.

“I’m glad. I hope you know you’re my favorite person in the world.” And if anyone got in the way of our relationship, I wouldn’t be able to trust myself to make a rational decision.

Mason forced a smile and nodded, but she looked notably different than she had just moments ago. Her lips had gone pale, and there was a sheen of sweat on her forehead.

“Princess, are you alright?”

Her shoulders lurched forward, and she covered her mouth. “I think I’m going to be sick.”

And with that, the call ended.

I wish I’d been able to move on from there. I still needed to file what remained of my paperwork, attend my mandated session with the company ‘therapist’, and prepare to leave tonight. But I couldn’t stop picturing my brother and Cameron defiling my girl. Sophia didn’t threaten me in the slightest, but Cameron was the biological father of her child. And Lucian…. I knew what they were like together. Mason and Lucian could pretend to hate each other until they were blue in the face, but the second one of them dropped that fa?ade, it was over. She had a track record of choosing him—I’d be an idiot to assume that would ever change.

However, I didn’t feel defeated or angry. Instead, a dangerous excitement coursed through my veins. My heart skipped, my breathing grew shallow, and a smile pried at my lips. It was no secret: I loved a good chase. Nothing helped stave off my eternal boredom like a game of cat and mouse. But, until this moment, I assumed that was a game I had already won with Mason. I tracked her down time and time again, found each of her new phone numbers by any means necessary. I sculpted my body to perfectly suit her desires. Long before she ever invited me to Lyon, I was there, staring through her windows, collecting information, trying to craft the ideal opportunity to make her mine.

And just when I thought I had successfully lured her back to my home, my little mouse was wandering away. Unfortunately for her, I was hiding just a few feet away in the darkness, licking my chops.

I was well aware that I was the bad guy. Good people had morals and often put others first. I, on the other hand, would set the world on fire as long as Mason was by my side to watch it burn.