34. Chapter 34

Chapter 34

Sebastian

I sat at my desk in the bedroom, a cup of coffee precariously perched in the one empty space near the edge. The rest of the surface was completely covered in papers from the Sons of Christ case file.

Mason was taking too long to come home, and I needed to distract myself from whatever mind games Cameron was playing. The only surefire way to do that was to compile enough evidence to incriminate Cameron and submit it to my superior. As soon as I could do that, they would permit me to eliminate him.

I was going to make it look like a suicide, just like I had with Mason’s mom years earlier. Cameron fit the description of their false prophet; the biggest church in town remained closed for six months during his absence, and he was lying to either Sophia or me about his father. But why?

I looked up from the papers to stare at a stray nail protruding from the wall.

He didn’t seem to gain anything from lying about his father being dead… unless Cameron didn’t want me to look for him. I pressed my lips together and tilted my head before digging through the files again, looking for anything with the last name Cole. I was fairly certain Cameron was using a fake name, but it was worth a shot.

Unsurprisingly, that yielded no results. But, as I examined documents from the date of the initial crimes, the seed of an idea began to take root in my head.

The Sons of Christ killings may have been the most interesting crimes in rural Quebec, but they were far from the only ones. Plenty of my subordinates had worked cases dealing with one-off murderers from the area. I didn’t have the physical case files at my disposal, but I did have a database I could tap into.

I slid my documents back into the manila envelope and unlocked the desk drawer, pulling out my laptop and putting the case file in its place. The soft whirring of the machine filled the air as I waited for the computer to load. I took a sip of my now-cold coffee, wincing at the bitter aftertaste as I double-clicked the desktop shortcut to my company’s database. After entering my credentials, I was presented with a search screen.

I had no idea what I was looking for, so I just typed Quebec into the location filter and set the time frame for up to five years prior to the first killing. At first, I found nothing of interest. There were a few petty crimes and one or two murders, but mostly just pages and pages of garbage.

Finally, after several minutes of searching, something caught my attention.

Though most written French eluded me, I knew that fue meant fire, and maison was house. Both of these words appeared in the title of an article written roughly four years before the first appearance of the Sons of Christ . My pulse quickened as I clicked the link, hoping for a web page that could be auto- translated by my browser. Instead, I was greeted by a photocopy of a newspaper clipping. Normally, I didn’t bother with evidence I couldn’t read, but a family photo drew me in.

As my heartbeat thundered in my ears, I zoomed in on the face of a teen boy, presumably the oldest son. The black-and-white photo obscured his hair color, but the eyes and nose matched the now-familiar shape of Cameron’s. My eyes flicked to the article, landing on the one piece of text I could actually read: a list of names, each followed by a number in parentheses—their ages, I assumed.

One of the names in particular caught my attention:

Calvin Waters (16) .

Puzzle pieces were beginning to appear before me, but for the life of me I could not fit them together. If I could just read the rest of the damn article...

I swallowed hard as I realized I was intimately familiar with a native French speaker. Surely, she’d be happy to translate a few short paragraphs for me. But was it really worth the stress of involving her in the case?

I studied Calvin’s face, tracing his features through the screen. My original goal had been to find some solid evidence proving Cameron was a cold-blooded homicidal maniac. But, unless these people were the founding members of the cult or Calvin had lit the house on fire, I wouldn’t be getting that at all. No, it seemed much more likely that I had found some early victims of the true father of the Sons of Christ . If that were the case, it would turn the entire narrative I had constructed on its head, setting me back to square one with this case.

And, even more infuriatingly, it would mean I wouldn’t be allowed to kill Cameron.

Suddenly, the front door audibly crashed open, startling me so badly I nearly jumped out of my seat.

“Se-bas-ti-an!” Mason called, and a knot formed in my stomach.

I slammed my laptop shut like a teenager about to be caught watching porn before clearing my throat.

“Bedroom!” was all I could muster. If I said any more, the shake in my voice would betray my frayed nerves.

The sound of muffled footsteps joined the rushing of blood in my ears. I just needed a moment to compose myself, and then I could act like nothing happened. A split second before I was ready, the door opened, and I turned my chair to see Mason standing in the doorway. She was still dressed in what I assumed to be her workout attire.

Her waist-length hair was pulled into a messy high ponytail, and I tried to calm myself by attempting to deduce why she had grown it out. When Mason lived in America the first time, her hair was rarely ever longer than her chin. Furthermore, if she liked it long, why was she always pulling it back? I surmised that someone, likely James, had kept her from cutting it for publicity reasons.

My thoughts evaporated as Mason wandered over to me, a smile on her face and a hand on the curve of her stomach. I had to admit, Sophia—and unfortunately, Lucian—had been doing an excellent job taking care of my girl. Her cheeks were fuller, her skin was brighter, and the way her ass looked in tight pants? Absolutely criminal.

I released a heavy breath as I adjusted my hardening cock.

Mason’s hand met my cheek, and the scent of her perfume flooded my nose. Her return couldn’t have come at a worse moment, but fuck was I glad she was here. I gripped her hips through the black spandex and squeezed. She was getting noticeably softer, and I wanted nothing more than to leave finger-shaped bruises on her porcelain skin.

“Are you okay?” she breathed. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

I allowed her presence to consume any lingering thoughts about Calvin—Cameron—whoever he was. That didn’t matter right now. All I needed to think about was just how badly I wanted to hear Mason scream my name.

“I’m tired from traveling,” I conceded.

Mason leaned in, pressing her forehead to mine. She was warm, and her skin was smoother than satin. A blush crept up her cheeks, filling the space between her freckles. Her lips were rosy, begging for the embrace of mine, so I closed the gap, hoping to steal a quick kiss.

But my princess had other plans. Her hand appeared on the nape of my neck as she held my face to hers, deepening the kiss with a whisper of tongue. She was sticky-sweet, and I instantly recognized that she was wearing a new lip gloss. Typically, Mason’s lip balm was vaguely sweet and fruity; it was also a little thinner in consistency. I rubbed my lips together, discreetly tasting the product once more before smacking them gently.

“Marshmallow?” I asked, gesturing to my mouth.

Excitement sparkled in Mason’s eyes as she nodded with an excited squeal. She was up to something—that much was obvious.

But what ?

“Aren’t you going to ask where I got it?” she gushed. This level of exhilaration on anyone else would be taxing, but it was a good look for Mason. I leaned back and closed my eyes as a smile begged to spread across my lips.

“Sophia?”

She nodded excitedly. I’d had fantasies about tasting Sophia on Mason’s lips, but this wasn’t exactly what I’d pictured... Still, it was a start.

“Do you like it?” she inquired, climbing onto my lap.

I manhandled her a bit before settling her in a comfortable position. Mason’s belly made it impossible to get her close enough while she faced me, so I tossed her legs over one arm of the chair. My cock throbbed against her ass, and my heart flipped.

“Does that answer your question?” I lowered my voice to a raspy whisper.

I buried my face in her hair, sneaking down her neck with feather-light kisses. When I got to her collarbone, I stole a gentle bite. She gasped and squirmed against me. Her fingers knotted in my hair, grazing my scalp as she held me in place. Goosebumps ran down my arms as I bit her again, this time much harder.

God, I wanted to make her bleed for me.

I bucked against Mason as her breath hitched. It would take nothing for me to pick her up and throw her on the bed, but I liked the idea of Mason thinking she was in control, even if she never would be.

I was so lost in Mason’s orbit that I didn’t realize we had company until a hand locked around my jaw. A rosy indent of my teeth stained Mason’s skin as I was pulled away, my lips wet with saliva. I swallowed hard as Sophia forced me to meet her gaze. She used her free hand to trace the mark I left on Mason. Her face was blank, except for the promise of a grin she was fighting.

“Sebastian Micheal Castillo, we do not bite our friends.” Her voice was stern but kind, the sort of tone you might use when lecturing a child.

Instantly, the blood from my cock rushed to my cheeks. I had never been caught in the act before. An unfamiliar sense of shame clung to me like scalding hot wax, and I cleared my throat.

“Sophia, it’s wonderful to see you.” I tried to sound professional, despite my irritation at her sudden presence. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

Her bubblegum-pink lips pursed into a pout as she sunk onto my bed and crossed her ankles.

“The kids are playing with Cameron, and I’m bored,” she groaned.

Sophia tossed herself back onto the mattress, her platinum hair settling into a pool around her face.

Then why don’t you go do literally anything else?

Mason brushed her nose to my cheek before softly kissing me.

“I was hoping she could hang out with us for a bit,” Mason explained. “Maybe we could play a video game or something?”

Gaming with the girls didn’t sound like the worst way to spend my afternoon. But what I really wanted was to bend Mason over the mattress, shove her face in the pillows, and leave her gasping for air as I plunged my cock into her over, and over, and over again.

I was ready to tell Sophia, in the politest way possible, that she was being a cock block. Just as I opened my mouth, though, a much better idea popped into my head.

“I have no problem playing video games, but you’re both coated in sweat.” I gestured to their workout attire. “Why don’t you two go shower?”

I was more than a little shocked when Sophia invited me into the bathroom while she and Mason took a shower. I had hoped she would, but I was still surprised—our relationship hadn’t yet crossed into romance. I sat on the counter, watching their blurry figures dance across the frosted glass. The air was thick with steam, and the shower steamer Mason had tossed in filled the room with the scent of grapefruit and roses.

Sophia reached down to grab a few pumps from one of Mason’s expensive shampoo bottles.

“Come here, Honeybee,” she purred. “Let me take care of you.”

Blood rushed to my cock as Mason complied. Sophia’s hands found Mason’s hair, disappearing into the dark mass as she scrubbed. Mason let out a soft, content “hmm.”

Goosebumps ran down my neck as my breathing slowed. My hand inched toward my erection, and I rubbed myself through the cotton of my sweatpants. A ripple of pleasure washed through me, but before I could weigh the pros and cons of masturbating with the girls inches away, Sophia decided to drum up a conversation with me.

“So, Sebby… How did you two start dating?”

I found her IP address and relentlessly pursued her no matter how many times she blocked me.

But that wasn’t the answer Sophia wanted, nor did I ever want Mason to know the measures I’d taken to keep her in my life. Instead of telling her the truth, I cleared my throat before settling on my default answer.

“Eh, we were friends for a while. We just happened to be single at the same time.”

Sophia’s fingers popped over the shower door as she grabbed the shower head from the wall before bringing it closer to Mason.

“And her being pregnant didn’t scare you off?”

“Sophia,” Mason warned.

A smile begged to cross my lips.

“What? When our ex, Ashley, was pregnant with the twins, she was practically boy-repellent!” Sophia defended. “Men hate responsibility… except for Lucian. He’s a weirdo.”

Hearing my brother’s name instantly killed my boner. God, I couldn’t wait until I finished my case and got us out of here. Sure, Mason might be a little sad for a few weeks while she mourned the breakup, but she’d get over it. And the privacy would be so worth it.

“Honestly? I don’t mind.” I scratched the hair at the base of my neck; it had grown just long enough to bother me, but I hadn’t had the time for a trim. “Plus, pregnancy looks good on Mason.”

I didn’t need to see Mason’s face to know my comment would turn her red.

The physical aspects of pregnancy weren’t what drew me in; I liked the mental changes it spawned. Thanks to her pregnancy, Mason had become needier, more emotional, and less confident, which was exactly what I needed for her to give me a chance.

Don’t get me wrong—I was a fantastic partner. I was wealthy and intelligent, and years in the gym had left my body strong and sculpted. When it came to conventional attractiveness ratings, I was a ten, even on my worst days.

I wasn’t delusional, though. Even accounting for my many boons, Mason was still way out of my league. Her musical talent and industry connections had kickstarted Mason’s fame; however, she became successful because of her temperament. Mason was funny and bright. When she wasn’t stuck inside a shell, her personality was absolutely magnetic. Like any human, she had her flaws, but they were easily forgiven in light of her many amazing qualities.

She could’ve literally had anyone in the world, but she chose me. In return, I would do anything to keep her happy.

“I agree, Mason; pregnancy really suits you. Your boobs are huge!” Sophia said playfully.

There was an audible slap as Mason swatted at her hands. I shook my head and choked on a laugh. I had to admit, I’d miss seeing this dynamic.

“I do not like the word huge being used regarding my body,” Mason explained.

“Then what do you want me to say?” Sophia challenged.

The door slid open, and Mason poked her head out. Water dripped from her nose onto the floral bath mat that came with the apartment.

“Seb, can I have a towel? I’m done.”

“Oh, you’re no fun,” Sophia huffed.

What sort of “fun” did she intend to have with my girl while I was watching?

I reached over to the towel rack and plucked a striped towel off it before handing it to Mason. She buried her face in the fluffy cotton before stepping out of the shower, bringing a pool of water with her.

I chuckled; my girl was absolutely terrible at drying herself off.

“Here, Princess, let me help.”

I kicked myself off the counter, taking the towel back before tossing it over her head. She didn’t protest as I shimmied it back and forth, soaking the water from her silky, raven-colored hair. When I finished, damp strands of hair stuck out in every direction. My smile widened, and I kissed her forehead.

God, I missed Mason while I was gone.

My touch trailed onto her shoulders, and I dared to look down at her breasts. After all, Sophia had pointed out that they were huge , and I had a responsibility to fact-check.

“Hey.” Mason cupped my chin, lifting my gaze to meet hers. “My eyes are up here.”

Just as I began to protest, I was interrupted by a loud buzzing sound coming from the counter. I wanted to groan and tell Mason to ignore it, but her brow furrowed, and I swallowed my words. Slowly, she reached forward and lifted her cherry-red phone from the marble surface, treating it almost like a foreign object.

Her breathing stalled as she stared down. The water shut off, and Sophia poked her head out.

“Who is it?”

A subtle tremor coursed through Mason’s hands. If I hadn’t been openly staring at her, I wouldn’t have even noticed. Mason held her breath as she waited for the screen to dim.

“My dad’s assistant called me,” she murmured.

Mason’s eyes remained wide, and the pulsing veins in her neck betrayed her calm exterior. I could practically feel her anxiety. Every muscle in my body tensed as I feared Mason would call them back.

Mason adored James, in spite of the indisputable fact that he was a horrible father. He had put her through literal hell on earth, but he was still her idol. The second she broke out of that, I would rid the world of him, just as I’d done with her mother.

But that would have to wait for a much later date.

“I’m sure if something’s wrong, they’ll call back,” Sophia assured Mason. She stole the towel from me, scrubbing the water from her platinum hair. In any other circumstance, studying Sophia’s nude figure would have been my top priority, but I found it highly suspicious that James’s assistant had been the one to call Mason. Even though James was worse than the devil himself, he never deferred the responsibility of contacting his daughter to someone else.

Mason’s asymmetrical gaze lifted to me, and I could tell by the look on her face she wanted reassurance. I was usually above lying to Mason, but the last thing she needed right now was her father’s influence.

“I’m sure it’s nothing to worry about, princess. Sophia’s right.”

“I always am!” She flashed me an award-winning smile. “Plus, we have big plans for tonight.”

Mason turned her head just enough to side-eye Sophia. “We do?”

“Of course! We have to decorate the holiday tree tonight. It’s a family tradition.”

Tension caused Mason’s shoulders to square. I had to wonder: was her father the source of her apprehension? Or was Mason uncomfortable because she’d been lumped in with Sophia’s “family”?

For my own sake, I hoped it was the latter.