37. Chapter 37

Chapter 37

Mason

There was no feeling worse than waking up in a bad mood for no reason.

I glared at Lucian’s ceiling fan, watching the lazy shadows circle the corners of the room. Around six this morning, Juniper slammed the door open and bound onto Lucian’s chest, yowling like a cat. Instinctively, Lucian covered me head to toe in his comforter and got the little girl out of there as quickly as possible. All of a sudden, I was wide awake with a blanket suffocating me, listening to Lucian wrestle a three-year-old. Honestly, I was furious, even if I understood the reason he was hiding me.

Maybe I’d want to stay if I actually had confirmation that they wanted me. I was only planning on leaving because I still felt like an outsider in their family. Like I was the weird uncle who insisted on visiting once a year, even though everyone would rather he didn’t.

I groaned and scrubbed my face as I sat up. Lucian had left a packet of crackers and a juice box for me on his nightstand, but I had exhausted both those resources and was ready for an actual meal. I swung my feet over the side of the bed; the wooden floor was cool under my toes, and I shivered as I stood.

The house was alive with the sounds of a family I’d never really be part of.

Normally, I was fine with this, but today, it caused a sinking feeling to form in my chest. I needed someone to talk to, but I felt like Sophia would lie to save my feelings, Cameron would sugarcoat the truth, and Lucian would make fun of me. That left only one person who might be able to talk me down from the metaphorical ledge I was approaching.

I looked both ways to make sure nobody was around before dashing down the hall, stopping just before entering the living room. Everybody was sitting around the table in the breakfast nook, so they’d definitely see me if I just walked through the living room.

I’d just have to run for it.

Pregnant as I was, it was hard to properly run, so my socks kept slipping around on the hardwood floor. Still, I managed to slide myself into the short hallway toward the foyer. I nearly crashed into the massive holiday tree as I bolted toward the stairs. From there, I just needed to run through the gameroom—honestly, I’d never seen anyone hanging out in there—and I was at Sebastian’s door.

When I entered the apartment, Sebastian looked like he had been up for hours. He was dressed in his gym clothes, sitting at the table with a cup of coffee and a newspaper that looked about as old as me.

His glasses fogged up as he took a sip, barely acknowledging my presence.

“Good morning,” I called, slowly shutting the door behind me.

Sebastian’s lips pressed into a thin line as he swallowed his drink.

“Morning.”

I sat across from him, and he raised an eyebrow as he put the paper down.

“Can I help you…?”

Sebastian had a way of staring me down as if he could learn my secrets simply by analyzing the way I held my breath before talking. Should I tell him I didn’t feel like I was part of the chaos downstairs? I wanted to be, but it felt like if we left tomorrow, nothing would change. They would all go on and live their lives just as they had for years, and I would be the only one with a heart that needed to mend.

“Do we have orange juice?” I squeaked.

His expression tightened before he stood and made the short trek from the dining table to the fridge.

“It’s orange-mango. I thought you might like it because Lavender—”

Oh, no. I didn’t tell him we changed her name. Fuck. Should I tell him now? He deserves to know, I can’t keep it from him forever, but—

“Princess, did you hear me?”

“Y-yeah.” I choked on my pulse.

“Is that a yeah you heard me, or a yeah to the question I asked?”

“Both?” That seemed like a suitable answer, but Sebastian shook his head and sighed.

“You should really stop sleeping downstairs. At least bring a snack to bed. It seems like you’re always nauseous when I get you back.”

His lecture ceased as he placed a cup full of orange liquid in front of me. Up close, I could see bits of white powder clinging to the edges.

“What did you put in here?” I tried to keep the disgust out of my tone as I sloshed the liquid back and forth.

Sebastian closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

“If you had been listening, you would know I put vanilla protein powder in your juice. It’ll sit in your stomach a little better that way. I asked you if I could.”

I shot him a glare, fighting the urge to tell him not to talk to me like that. He was trying to help, I knew that, but the short, matter-of-fact way he spoke pissed me off.

I decided it was best to leave him alone before I ended up snapping at him.

“I need to get dressed.”

I pushed myself up and walked into the bedroom to root through the drawers of stretchy pants and loose shirts that Cameron had purchased for me. It was a nice gesture, but I ended up with a lot of blacks and grays. I wished he would have taken me shopping like Sophia did. He was probably embarrassed to be seen with me, not that I could blame him.

I decided on a pair of leggings and one of Sebastian’s blue shirts, hoping that seeing me in his clothes would put him in a better mood. He was the one person in the world who actually wanted me around; I couldn’t afford to lose that.

As soon as I pulled my hair into a claw clip, the bedroom opened, and Sebastian walked in with his newspaper. I watched him from the full-length mirror as he drew closer, a coy smile dancing on his lips. He set the paper on the bed before wrapping his arms around me. Warmth emanated from him, seeping into my chest, and for a moment, the sinking feeling vanished.

He kissed my cheek and gently rubbed my distended stomach. I was glad he wasn’t mad at me for walking away from him.

“Now where do you think you’re going, dressed up like that?” His sultry whisper was laced with mischief as his lips tickled my neck.

A pleasant shiver ran down my spine, and I couldn’t help but giggle at his antics. Sebastian’s presence was a much-welcomed distraction from the doom and gloom infesting my mind.

“I thought I’d go to a bar,” I breathed, putting my hand on his. “Or maybe skip the alcohol and just buy a hooker.”

He bit back a chuckle as he nuzzled against me. “Do you think it’s a good idea to tell a man of the law you’re getting a prostitute?”

“Only if I tell you I’m going to kill her after.”

Sebastian’s laughter filled the room like sunshine, warming every surface it graced. His golden hair swayed as he shook his head. It was getting a little shaggy, allowing his natural waves to show. I knew he’d probably get it cut soon, but I really liked it like this.

“Before I have to arrest you, can I get your help with something?”

“Arrest me?” I gasped. “What happened to ‘innocent until proven guilty’?”

“That doesn’t apply when you tell a detective that your plans for the day include soliciting sex and premeditated murder.” He kissed the top of my head.

I melted into his embrace as a contented sigh left my chest.

“What do you need help with?”

Sebastian’s expression went serious as he made eye contact with my reflection. “It’s something to do with the case, so I need you to promise that this stays completely between us. Got it?”

My stomach lurched. Did he want my help with a homicide?

“I promise…. but what am I doing exactly?” If he asked to use me as bait, the answer would be a resounding fuck off.

“Translation… I got this paper from my supervisor, and I think it’s involved in the case, but it’s all in French, and—”

“You’re illiterate?”

His playful smirk returned. “Not illiterate per se, just not fluent enough to read the paper, no matter how much I try.”

Deep down, I was glad Sebastian wanted my help. It made me feel useful, and it also meant I wouldn’t have to talk to him about what was bugging me.

“Since you asked so nicely, I can help.” I gave him my sweetest smile.

Sebastian led me to the bed and sat with me before slipping the newspaper into my hands. It was crunchy and yellowed with age. Before I could even read anything, I noticed that a large rectangle in the middle of the article had been cut out.

“What was here?”

Sebastian looked over my shoulder, tracing the inside edges like he hadn’t noticed them.

“I’m not sure… I’ll ask my boss when I check in with her.”

The way he spoke was too slow; it was like he didn’t believe his own words. But I also knew Sebastian was very secretive about his job. I wasn’t even sure who he worked for, and I wasn’t sure he’d tell me if I asked.

“Was it a picture of the killer?”

Sebastian stiffened, then gave a nervous chuckle and scratched his head.

“I, uh, I don’t actually know... that’s why I was hoping you could help.”

My heart skipped at the idea of seeing a picture of an actual suspect. What if it was someone I had seen walking around Hartwood?

“If I read it, can I see the picture?”

Sebastian’s eyes widened as he blinked away his surprise.

“No, but I’ll allow you to ask five questions about the case.”

Good enough.

I squinted as I read through the page silently, preparing to summarize everything out loud. A knot formed in my stomach as I read the story of a family whose house tragically caught fire, killing everyone except for the oldest son.

“Well?” Impatience crept into Sebastian’s tone.

I tried to clear the lump in my throat before starting.

“In a tragic turn of events, the quiet town of Kingsbury, Quebec, became the backdrop for a devastating house fire that resulted in the deaths of seven.” Tears choked my next words as I got to the names and ages of the deceased, but Sebastian seemed completely disinterested until I started reading information about the survivor. “The oldest son, Calvin Waters, aged sixteen, was rushed to the nearest hospital after being spotted outside by local pastor Dale Cooper. Cooper reported Waters was unresponsive but breathing.”

I stopped to collect my thoughts. Sixteen was such a young age to lose everything, and the fucked-up part of me hoped Calvin died before he woke. That way, he wouldn’t have to endure being the only member of his family to walk away from this horrendous event.

“Does it say anything else about the cause of the fire?” Sebastian pushed his glasses up with one finger. “Or if Calvin just so happened to be the one to start it?”

Seb thought Calvin started the fire? That didn’t seem right. Why would a sixteen-year-old boy want to set fire to his family, all of his belongings, and even his own body?

Still, Sebastian was the detective here; he probably knew a lot more than I did. I skimmed through the page once more before shaking my head.

“All it says is that Dale was stepping up as the boy’s temporary guardian. I guess the families were friends or something.”

Sebastian’s lips pursed as he thought. Since he didn’t seem to have any more questions about the article, I assumed now was a good time to claim my reward.

“Was Calvin in the picture?” That seemed like a safe question to start with.

He hesitated before answering.

“He was, yes.”

Okay, so there was some reason Sebastian didn’t want me to see a picture of Calvin. But... why?

“Is Calvin in Hartwood?”

Sebastian winced at my question.

“I believe so.”

My heart ached at the idea that Calvin didn’t die, as awful as that sounded. Losing my mom at seventeen completely destroyed me, and I didn’t even like Holly. If I had lost my dad, too... actually, I couldn’t even picture that. Despite all the restrictions James had placed on me for the sake of my career, I adored my dad. If I lost him, I might never be the same.

“Is Calvin okay?” The question fell from my lips like a lead weight.

Heat colored my face as Sebastian took in my words. He looked at me like I was crazy. Out of everything I could have asked, why that?

His brow remained fused as he studied me.

“I, uh, I think so?”

There was something in Sebastian’s gaze that I didn’t like—darkness and frustration, like there was more to the situation than I could comprehend. I swallowed hard as I considered his line of questioning around Calvin specifically.

“Do you... think Calvin is a serial killer?”

Sebastian closed his eyes and nodded once, as if he had to convince himself before responding. I knew Sebastian was a brilliant detective with a doctorate degree, and that he’d been working on this case for a long time. I, on the other hand, had zero authority on the topic, and little to no information, but... something in my gut told me he was wrong.

My fingers graced Calvin’s name on the page. I didn’t know this Canadian boy, but I was willing to fight tooth and nail for his innocence, even if I realized how fruitless it was.

I had one question left, and I had to make it count:

“What about Dale?”