Chapter 23
Sebastian
I walked out of the nursery, tugging my shirt away from my chest. The navy cotton was freshly stained with spit-up courtesy of Rosemary Jane. My lips pulled into a thin, teeth-baring line.
Time for a shower. Maybe I could convince Cameron to join me.
With that thought, I headed toward the living room. When I’d left to put the tiny terror down, Cam, Sophia, and I were halfway through some cheesy rom-com. He and I had split a bottle of white wine, and I was still riding the warm haze thirty minutes later.
It probably explained the slight wobble in my step as I drifted toward the glow spilling from the center of the house.
The second my eyes landed on Cameron, my grin kicked in on instinct. But he didn’t smile back. His eyes widened, his hand flicking toward the hallway in a subtle go back gesture.
Then I saw why.
Cam was crouched next to Mason on the couch. She looked smaller than usual, like one wrong breath would send her over the edge. Sophia and Mattie sat across from them, locked in a silent stare-off that reminded me of alley cats marking territory.
The air felt staged, too still. An intervention from hell.
The drunken warmth in my chest chilled.
“Uh… What’s going on?” I asked, dragging the syllables out like I could make them sound harmless.
Mason’s voice came small, splintered.
“Sebastian, do you kill people?”
It was like being gut-punched in slow motion.
My mouth opened and closed, useless. My brain scrambled through the seven stages of grief in under ten seconds.
Shock—How the hell does she know?
Denial—She can’t actually know.
Pain—I’m about to lose everything.
Guilt—Why did I have to kill her mom?
Anger—Who told her?
Bargaining—Maybe if I laugh, say it’s slang, buy her a bookstore, cook for a month straight…
Acceptance—Yeah, no. Not there yet.
I glanced at Cameron for backup. Nothing. Just a small shake of his head. Mason’s eyes never left me.
My hands shook, so I jammed them into my pajama pockets before anyone noticed.
“I—” My voice cracked.
“Killed—” I choked on the word. “Not kill. I… I don’t anymore.”
It hit her like a bullet. She flinched, her whole body recoiling.
I almost blurted the truth—I did it for you, your mom wanted to sell you into trafficking—but even I knew that wouldn’t help.
Cameron stayed stone-faced. Sophia’s shock looked faker by the second. And Mattie… Mattie sat in the corner wearing the kind of smug grin that made my hands curl into fists.
“What the fuck did you tell Mason?” I snapped, storming toward her. She didn’t even flinch when I grabbed the front of her tank top and lifted. I was ready to—
A sound stopped me. The softest, most broken noise from the couch.
I turned back. Mason’s face was wet with tears, her shoulders jerking as she shoved Cameron’s hand away. My grip on Mattie loosened instantly, and I spun toward Mason.
“It’s not what it sounds like—”
“I asked a simple question,” she shot back, voice trembling, “And two out of three of you got weird. It’s not crazy to want your partner to say no when you ask if they’ve killed anyone!”
Her eyes darted around the room like she was looking for an escape route.
“Mason—” I reached for her shoulder.
“Don’t touch me!” She stepped back, putting space between us. Then her gaze snapped to Cameron. “Did you know?”
“Mae, come sit down. We’ll talk in the morning,” he said.
“Oh my God, you knew.” Her voice cracked. She swung back to me. “How many people have you killed? When was the last time?”
Mattie’s smirk deepened, but I kept my eyes on Mason. Less than a year. But that had been for work. That didn’t count… Right?
“I’d never hurt you,” I said, moving closer.
Her back hit the wall, rattling the picture frames above her head. She gasped, eyes darting, trapped.
“When you learned about the cult, you defended Calvin—”
“He never killed anyone!”
A soft thump upstairs.
The kids.
No, no, no.
I finally reached her and cupped her shoulders, forcing her to meet my gaze. But the second I saw her eyes—wide, terrified, like she was finally seeing the monster I kept buried—I wished I hadn’t touched her at all.
She tore free and bolted for the nursery.
The room went silent except for the pounding in my ears. Sophia, Cameron, and I locked eyes, the unspoken question hanging heavy between us.
What the hell do we do now?
A moment later Mason emerged with a diaper bag over her shoulder and Rosemary on her hip.
“Mae, you can’t take my baby,” Cameron said, following her as she started up the steps.
Mason didn’t slow, her grip on Rosie tightening like she expected someone to rip her away.
“She’s my daughter, and I’m not leaving her with–” Mason looked down at me, and I could see the word on her lips, but she didn’t dare say it. Instead, she started up the steps quicker.
“Jasper! Juniper!”
Her voice rang through the house, and I could tell she was scared out of her mind. I wanted to comfort Mason, to pull her into my chest and make all of this go away. But, I couldn’t. Right now, I was the problem, and, for the first time, I had absolutely no idea how to fix any of this.
Watching Mason leave with all three kids was the hardest thing I’d ever done—and that’s saying something, considering my track record.
Cameron, Sophia, and I tried everything short of throwing ourselves in front of the door.
We pleaded. Explained. Begged. But Mason was already gone in her head, and nothing we said could pull her back.
She moved like the floor was on fire—buckling Rosie into her car seat, ushering Jasper and Juniper into the van—never looking at us once. When Cameron reached for one of the backpacks, she yanked it away like he was some stranger in a parking lot.
No goodbye. No last look.
Just the slam of the door and the low growl of the engine as she pulled away, taking my family with her.
She wasn’t leaving because she didn’t love me. She was leaving because she did, and she didn’t trust me with that love anymore.
And that broke me in a way I didn’t know was possible.
Mattie walked out right after Mason, which was the smartest thing she’s ever done. Because if she’d lingered, I might’ve given her a real reason to run.
Cameron and Sophia snapped into action mode, checking rooms, noting what Mason had taken, what she hadn’t, like maybe the missing inventory could tell them whether or not she planned to come back.
I stayed put. The weight of it all had already settled into my bones like concrete. My thumb just kept swiping across my phone, scrolling through faces I’d just lost: Mason’s crooked smile, Rosie’s gummy grin, the twins tangled in blankets.
The steps creaked from both directions, Cameron coming up, Sophia coming down.
“Well?” Cam asked before Sophia even hit the last step.
“A bunch of clothes and toys,” she said, blinking too fast. “Drawers open. The room’s a mess.”
Cameron nodded, and that’s when I noticed the red around his eyes.
“She didn’t take a damn thing for herself. Not her Kindle. Not clothes. Nothing.” His chest shook as he forced in a breath. “You think that means she’ll come back? Or she’s in a hotel nearby?”
The silence that followed was the kind you could choke on.
Sophia glanced at me, lips parting like she was about to say something, but swallowed it. Cameron stared at the floor, fists clenched, knuckles white.
I wanted to tell him yes. That she was close. That this wasn’t permanent. That couples got past this exact bump all the time, when one finds out the other has killed people. But the lie lodged in my throat.
“She’s a mom first,” I said instead. “She wasn’t worried about herself.”
I thought about tracking her down the old-fashioned way: it was quiet and efficient, and I could even kidnap her after. But that wouldn’t touch the other problem in the room.
I looked straight at Sophia. “Do you kill people?” I asked.
Her lashes lowered, her breath slow and careful.
“Cam,” she said finally, “Give us a minute?”
“No,” he shot back without hesitation. “I think I want to hear this.”
Sophia’s smile lingered just long enough to set off alarms in my head. “Fine. I guess you deserve to know too. I have.”
Normally, those two words would’ve caused my brain to fizzle out. Right now, they just felt like one more piece in an already insane puzzle.
“How many?” I asked, leaning forward.
Cameron dropped onto the couch beside me, our shoulders brushing.
Sophia tilted her head, eyes narrowing. “How many have you killed?”
I looked at Cameron—maybe for permission, maybe to make sure I was still in the same reality.
“Upward of a hundred,” I said finally. “Stopped counting after a while.”
Sophia nodded once, like she’d been expecting that answer. “Same.” Then she turned to Cam. “You hiding anything?”
He shook his head before she even finished.
“Nothin’,” he lied before leaning back, exhaling like it hurt. “But Mae takin’ Rosie… that’s killin’ me.”
My chest ached, and I slung an arm over him. In that moment, part of me hated Mason–hated that she knew exactly how much Cameron loved his daughter, how he’d once resigned himself to never having kids. How dare she rip that away?
And yet… I understood.
“I’ll find them,” I promised.
But, while I knew I could locate them, I was so overwhelmed that I had no idea where to begin.