38. Chapter 38

Chapter 38

Cameron

It had been almost a year since I last heard Dale’s voice, but somehow, the passage of time didn’t make this phone call any more delightful to have. The second his name showed up on my caller ID, I barricaded myself in my bedroom. Nobody else could be allowed to hear the things I might need to say to him. He knew about the family I’d found for myself in Hartwood, and that I’d been taking care of kids who weren’t mine. This was a life Dale didn’t approve of, but one he couldn’t interfere with. I had a feeling all that would change if he heard a certain pop star in the background.

“Did you know Mason Albright is pregnant?” His drawl passed through the phone in a quiet rumble, but his words were deafening.

“I, uh, I didn’t think you were one for pop culture.” Nerves infested my tone like bed bugs in a shady motel.

“I’m not,” Dale grunted. “But I do remember that I sent you to a rock concert in hopes that you’d save some poor sinner’s soul… She’s a good choice.”

No, she’s not.

He cleared his throat before continuing. “Her music videos are full of satanic imagery—”

“No, they ain’t.” I forced a wry laugh, not wanting to show any interest in the topic. “They’re full of bare skin and almost sex.”

Which was funny to think of, considering how easy it was to make Mason blush. If all I knew of her were those videos, I’d think she was a sex-crazed maniac, not a cute little bug who squeaked every time she got nervous.

“Close enough… few of our sources in France were able to get her medical records. She’s due on Christmas, which means she got herself pregnant right around the time you two met.”

“Dale… that’s disgusting.” Not a particularly convincing argument, but it was all I could muster as anxiety coursed through me like a poison.

He knew. There was no way he didn’t. Guilt strangled my thoughts, making me wish Mason had stayed in safety overseas. But, considering he went directly for her medical records, Dale might’ve found her even if she never came to Hartwood.

“She’s your type, ain’t she?”

I choked at his assumption.

“Dale, I’m almost old enough to be her dad.”

“Calvin—”

“ Don’t call me that.” My voice shook at the long-forgotten name, the one my mother gave me in honor of my father.

The one Dale had no right to call me.

Swear to God, I would’ve hung up on him if I had the choice, but if I avoided him he’d just come knocking on the front door. There was no way I could let that happen. I just wanted to lead an honest life, one where I worked to make my living and got to hold my baby girl after she was born.

Why couldn’t he just let me live ?

“Tell me… Did you sleep with her?”

I closed my eyes and exhaled every trace of oxygen that lingered in my lungs. If I told him no, he’d be able to tell I was lying; the man could read me like a damn book. I’d have to try and dodge the question somehow if I wanted to shake him.

“Do you think I could get someone like her to sleep with me ?” I laughed.

The line went silent.

“Dale, I’m probably three times her size. I don’t even want to think about how that would work.” I tried to make light of a situation that was very unfunny... But he wasn’t having any of it.

“Listen, boy —” I hated when he called me that— “I might not understand a damn thing about the life you’re choosin’ to lead, but I know when you’re lying to me.”

My skin prickled at his words.

“Did you sleep with Mason Albright? It’s a yes-or-no question.”

“No.”

It was a knee-jerk response. Dale always knew when I was lying… but there was no way he could confirm that the baby was mine until after she was born. Plus, from all the ultrasounds I had seen, she looked like Mason. If our daughter came out with brown eyes, I could just blame Lucian.

Silently, I prayed that Dale would just lay off.

“Fine. But just remember this: the truth always has a way of catching up to you, Calvin.”

The line cut before I could respond, leaving me to hyperventilate in peace.

It took me a couple of hours to fully compose myself, so it was well past noon when I mustered the courage to enter the living room. The house was silent, which always felt strange. It was almost shocking to see Mason sprawled across the couch. She was focused on her phone, but the open book draped over the arm of the couch suggested to me that she’d gotten distracted mid-read. She looked peaceful, curled up under her blanket with a nearby bowl of tortilla chips.

Would it be better for her if I left town? A sick feeling filled my stomach at the thought. I didn’t regret my daughter, nor did I regret forming this relationship with Mason. But if I could go back in time, I would’ve never slept with her.

Or at least I would’ve stayed sober enough to remember that condoms existed.

I should leave. It’s the best chance to keep everyone safe.

It would hurt, but I could have a new identity in under a day. I could pick any state and just start again. Of course, the life I lived in Hartwood would haunt me. These memories of family and hope would sustain me through the endless hardship that would certainly become my life. Once I taught myself not to be human, not to feel, not to love, the thought of Cameron Cole’s life would bring me to tears.

I never truly deserved this heaven, no matter how desperately I wanted it.

“Cameron! You missed breakfast. Do you want me to cook for you?”

Mason’s voice swept through the room like a summer breeze, turning my attention her way.

She wanted to cook for me?

My breathing stuttered at the thought. I had possibly endangered Mason’s life by sleeping with her. If she were to die in the next few months, I’d be at fault. If she knew what a monster I was, would she still feel this urge to take care of me?

I shook my head like an etch-a-sketch, trying to erase those thoughts.

“I’m a big boy. Missin’ a meal won’t hurt me none.”

She let out a heavy sigh, and her brows pulled together ever-so-slightly as she stared me down. Come to think of it, that probably wasn’t the right thing to say to someone who was so insecure about her own weight gain that she had to step on the scale backward for doctor’s appointments.

“Can you come sit with me, at least?”

Her request pulled me away from what remained of my self-loathing. I walked over to join her. The cushions bowed under my weight, and I pulled her feet onto my lap, rubbing them softly. Normally, when I did this, she made noises to rile me up, but there were no stifled moans as she watched me.

“Are you okay?” she asked.

My shoulders tensed as I silently struggled with my guilt. I should have been the one asking Mason if she was okay, maybe even groveled at her feet for forgiveness. Instead, I redirected the focus of the conversation away from myself:

“Your ankles are swollen.”

She groaned. “All of me is swollen. I want this baby out .”

It was always a little funny when Mason whined. I never imagined she’d be so soft, but I liked that side of her. I caressed the curve of her stomach, and the baby formerly known as Lavender kicked at my palm.

“Just a few more weeks.”

“Lucian told me he thinks Rosie is going to come late—isn’t that a terrible thing to say?”

I had to fight a smile. “He just likes gettin’ your goat.”

“Well, it’s working… you should really punish him again.”

“I’ll take it up with Sophia,” I assured her. “What are you lookin’ at on your phone?”

Mason shifted a bit before sliding up to a sitting position—with a little help, of course.

“If I tell you, it stays between us.”

“... You weren’t watchin’ porn or anything, right?” Not that I’d judge her if she were, but that wasn’t a very living-room-friendly activity.

She shook her head. “I promised Seb I wouldn’t talk about it.”

What the hell could he have shown her that she couldn’t talk about? He wasn’t dumb enough to drag her into his work… was he?

“But… I might be willing to talk just a little if you promise to keep it between us.” She offered me her pinky.

I hesitated for a moment, as if a pinky promise was a legally binding agreement and not a gesture I extended to the twins when they needed extra reassurance. Mason had been mistreated in so many ways—how was she still so damn sweet?

A smile pleaded at my lips as I wound my finger around hers.

“Cross my heart.”

She brightened at my words and quickly unlocked her phone. I had never really paid attention to the device, mostly because I never saw Mason using it. I was a little surprised to see that she had it set to French rather than English, but of course, it made sense.

“So, Sebastian had a newspaper he needed me to translate for him, and it ended up being about a house fire in Quebec.”

My stomach dropped to the floor.

Unfortunately, I had a feeling I knew what fire she was talking about. Over the years I had experienced more than my share of truly terrible days, but that one was still the worst. In a perfect world, I would have died with the rest of my family instead of passing Dale’s wicked “test”.

Mason continued telling the story of a day that haunted my dreams, but I was barely listening. I was lost in my thoughts until Mason said the one name I never thought would fall from her lips:

“Calvin Waters.”

Instinctively, I looked up. Even now, decades after I had shed my former identity, I still responded to the sound of my name.

“... And Sebastian thinks that if he finds Calvin, he’ll find the serial killer he’s looking for… but I don’t think that’s the case.”

Mason’s words hung so heavy that the world stopped spinning under their weight.

Of course Sebastian was trying to hold me responsible for Dale’s crimes. I probably had a few weeks at most before he arrested me, and I had a feeling Dale would leave me to rot if it meant avoiding responsibility for the atrocious acts he’d committed. Of course, Mason would have no power to prevent me from being locked up... But it was nice that she didn’t think I was a monster.

“Why do you believe in Calvin?”

Her expression pinched as she thought.

“It’s going to sound dumb… but I can feel it in my heart.” Conviction laced her words. “He’s just a teenage boy who lived through something tragic. I refuse to believe that being a survivor made him evil.”

Emotion clogged my throat. I wondered if she actually understood that boy had long since grown into a man.

“I think you’re wrong.” I wasn’t evil; that much was true. But I sure as hell wasn’t innocent. I’d been complacent for too long, standing by while Dale destroyed countless lives.

Mason looked shocked that I had disagreed with her, though.

“You think this poor kid burned his own house down and went on to become a serial killer?”

“Well, no. But obviously, he’s related to the crimes.” My saliva felt as thick as tar as I forced myself to swallow. “Even if he didn’t kill anyone, he’s just as bad for letting it happen, right?”

Mason shook her head. “He lost everything that day. I don’t know what happened, or why Seb thinks he was involved… but, I feel like he didn’t have a choice.”

I mulled over her words for a moment, trying to think of what to say next. Luckily, Mason took that weight off my shoulders.

“Sebastian says Calvin is somewhere in Hartwood,” she continued, “and the idea that he might be alone makes me sad.”

I probably deserved to be alone.

“Can I ask why? He sounds dangerous.”

Maybe if I could change her mind about Calvin , she’d be spooked enough to beg Seb to take her to his home in Portland. I hated the thought of her ending up with him, but she’d be safe from Dale there, at least.

Her mismatched gaze sliced through me as she put a hand on mine. There was no way she could’ve known that I was Calvin, but the intensity in her expression almost had me convinced otherwise.

“No one ever deserves to be alone if they don’t want to be.”

As she spoke, I remembered the torturous existence she’d endured at the hands of her own father. He locked her away, fed her one meal a day, punished her for having a personality. How long had it taken her to understand that she didn’t deserve to be alone?

Did she believe it, even now?

“Obviously, you think I’m being dumb, and that’s fine,” Mason huffed. “But if I could hug him, I would. No matter what happened, he’s still a human, and I just want him to be okay.”

As awful as it might sound, up until now, I hadn’t been sure about my relationship with Mason. Under normal circumstances I would’ve wanted to get to know her for a long while before we started dating... But these weren’t normal circumstances. She was pregnant with my child and living under my roof. We had spent so many nights staring at the stars while she talked about her life, and how fate had consistently been unkind to her. In spite of everything, Mason refused to be tainted by the hand she was dealt. She remained kind and soft, and so beautiful it sometimes hurt to bask in her glow.

More than that, she never let her father fully beat down the person she wanted to be, even if she got a little lost along the way. Mason may have been almost two decades younger than me, but I had a lot to learn from her.

Suddenly, I couldn’t stand the distance between us. I pulled her into an embrace—God, I would never get over how small and fragile she was. Her face was the perfect height to press directly into my belly, and I felt her take a deep, contented breath. Something about the way she melted into me made me feel safe in ways I hadn’t in years.

For over two decades, I’d been feeling like a monster. The feeling had become so familiar that I didn’t even give it a second thought anymore. But as Mason’s warmth seeped into my skin, years of repressing those feelings crashed down on me at once. Finally, I was beginning to feel like a person again.

It was almost impossible to stop myself from crying when she hugged me back, but I managed.

“I love you.”

It was a piss poor way to thank her, but it was true, and I couldn’t hold it back any longer. That’s why I had to repeat myself:

“I love you, Mason Albright.”

I could say it again and again and never get the weight of those words across. But I also knew that ‘love’ wasn’t a word that came easy for Mason, and I didn’t want her to feel pressured to say it back. So I made a joke to break the silence:

“Please don’t go around hugging serial killers.”

Her bright chuckle muffled against my chest.

At some point in Mason’s life, she had to have dropped a halo. There was no way a regular woman could do this to me. I felt like a lost sinner who’d wandered into heaven.

I held on to this feeling, knowing I would need it to survive the hardships to come.