Chapter 32 #2
Withdrawal had been hell for him, and unlike last time, no one wanted to help him. Why would we, considering he got himself into this mess? That meant his long curls had been left to mat at the ends.
“What! I’m just telling the truth,” Lucian grumbled. “she’s the one that left. She’s the one that took my kids. And she is a fucking bitch.”
My jaw tensed so hard I had to turn my head to alleviate the pressure. Oh my God. Once again, I cursed whoever taught my brother to fucking speak.
Cameron patted my back twice before grunting and standing up.
“Alright, that’s enough from you.” Without hesitation, he heaved Lucian over his shoulder.
“No, it’s not! A fucking protection order was too much! Taking my fucking kids was too much!” Lucian wriggled around wildly until he somewhat faced Mason, who was shrinking in her chair. “You’re a terrible fucking mother who—”
The dull thud of Lucian’s body hitting the hardwood from approximately six feet and nine inches filled the air, followed by his groan.
He stayed there for a moment, curled up like a dying animal, and no one dared make a sound.
His greasy, clumped-together hair fanned across the floor.
Two weeks. That’s all it took to reduce my admittedly well-groomed brother into a shell of a man.
Dope sick, shaking, unable to eat or care for himself—but hey, at least the seizures had stopped.
“Get up,” Cameron said flatly. “you don’t mean a damn word that just came out of your mouth. Now let’s go before you break something I ain’t fixing for you.”
Lucian popped his head up and opened his mouth, but Cameron tugged him to his feet and yanked him upstairs.
“I—sorry, about—” I gestured vaguely toward the mess that had just left. “him.”
Mason nodded and folded her hands in her lap. It was only then I noticed the antique ring on her right finger. For almost a year, she’d been sporting it on her left hand and calling it her engagement ring, even though the two had already eloped.
Mine and Lucian’s side of the family would actually hang him if he didn’t have a ceremony, so they hid it.
Mason swiped her tongue over her lips as she twisted the jewelry back and forth for a moment before removing it entirely. She rolled it between her fingers. I thought she’d slip it back on.
But with a look of resigned sadness, she exhaled and leaned forward, setting it gently on the coffee table. The emerald in the center glinted against the sunbeams streaming through the blinds. Mason’s eyes lingered on the faint tan line the band had left before she folded her hands in her lap.
“You’re not a bad mom, by the way,” I added, hoping to stitch up what Lucian’s temper had shredded.
Mason forced a sad smile and nodded. Still, her gaze clung to the ring, like a part of her had been stripped away the second she let it go.
“I want to come back,” she whispered, her bare hands curling into the fabric of her dress. “I want our life back.”
“And we want you back,” Sophia said softly, reaching toward her.
“Ah, ah, ah.” Mattie’s tongue-click sliced through the air. “Pipsqueak isn’t done talking. Let her finish.”
My gaze narrowed, heat licking up my spine as I silently cursed Mason’s lifelong talent for attracting assholes.
Mason didn’t meet our eyes.
“But, to do that, I need to know more about who you guys—” Mason stopped, shoulders rolling forward as if gagging on the word. “killed. Because you both have unalived someone. With your hands. That’s a thing you two do.”
Mattie patted Mason on the shoulder as if to say enough, and I swore a wave of relief washed over her.
My eyes locked with Sophia’s, hoping to see she was just as nervous as I was. Instead, she was calm, cool, and collected. Maybe even smug.
She leaned back, crossing her arms over her chest.
“Why don’t we play twenty questions?” Sophia suggested. “That way, you don’t have to know any of the nitty-gritty you’re not ready for.”
Finally, Mason’s head lifted, and she nodded.
“Seb…” She started slowly, despite the fact I never agreed to this fucking game. “How many people did you…”
“Kill?” I finished, despite the ice in my veins. I had no desire to play this game, and even less of one to lie to Mason. That would only make this worse. “Pass. Bad question.”
Mason’s eyes widened for a beat. She sat a little straighter and looked to Sophia.
“Sebby’s right, that’s a bad question, Honeybee.”
Mason pressed a hand to her lips before going deathly still.
“Were they work-related?” Mattie interjected, drawing yet another glare from me.
Her dark eyes were trained on me, as if she was studying every micro-expression that flickered across my face.
Sophia scoffed as she shifted. “We weren’t playing with you—”
I shut her up by kicking her ankle, then shot her a warning look. Did I trust Mattie? Absolutely fucking not. But I wasn’t going to let her make Mason think we were dodging the topic.
For all I knew, Mattie wanted to deepen the wedge between us, and I’d rather die than let that happen.
“Mostly. I worked for a bad organization that made me kill bad people. But… I also killed someone when I was sixteen.” I drew in a pained breath, wincing at the memory of Mason’s mom’s gray matter splattered against the wall, shivering at the phantom sensation of her pointing a gun at my head.
“Were they a bad person?” Mason blurted.
And I nodded. Holly was a terrible person.
“I never wanted to be a killer, but I did what had to be done,” I promised.
Mason’s head bobbed quickly. I wasn’t sure she believed me, but I knew she wanted to, and that was the first step.
“What about you, Blondie?” Mattie nodded toward Sophia.
Sophia’s lips split into a snarl-like grin.
“Same as Sebby, for the most part. I kill for work.” She spoke through her teeth.
“But I thought you ran a matchmaking company?” Mason seemed hurt.
“I may have lied just a little.” Sophia pinched her fingers together.
Mason blinked hard, like she was trying to clear fog from her vision. “So, everyone’s just fine with this?”
“No,” I whispered. I felt it best to speak for both of us, considering Sophia seemed to enjoy murder. “Neither of us are fine with it. We just… we don’t want to hide from you anymore.”
“Wait–you killed someone when you were sixteen.” Mason gasped as if my words finally sank in. “I—did I know the person you killed?”
Her eyes flicked rapidly between us, and I couldn’t tell who the question was aimed at. But I had nothing left to lose.
“Yes,” I said.
But Sophia spoke over me. “Bad question!”
Her voice cracked through the air, and Mason flinched before blinking between us.
“Why is that a bad question?” Mason demanded, her voice trembling. “If I knew them, then it matters. I have a right to—”
“No, you have a right to peace,” Sophia interrupted, her tone almost patronizing. “Knowing who won’t give you that.”
Mason’s lips parted, but no sound came. She looked down at her hands, then back at me. Her eyes begged for something, anything, and for the first time in a long time, I didn’t know if I should lie to her. So I decided to just… omit details.
“Princess,” I said carefully, leaning forward as if that would help her see my honesty.
“Yes, you knew them. But you don’t need to know who, or why, or even how I killed them.
Not tonight. It’s the first time we’ve been in the same room in forever.
Let’s find our new normal before we destroy what we have. ”
Mason swallowed hard. I could tell by her eyes that she wanted to press me, and I silently begged her not to. Despite the lack of words, I think she understood, because she drew in a shaky breath and leaned back.
Slowly, Mason looked up at Mattie, who was too busy staring at me to notice.
“Okay,” Mason finally whispered, reaching up and grabbing Mattie’s arm as if she needed something to tether her. “But… I have rules.”
One of her fingers toyed with a loose string on Mattie’s shirt, coiling it around her finger before unwinding it.
And part of me wanted to throw a fit, demand Mason come over and play with my shirt, or my hair, like she used to when she needed to fidget.
But I stayed silent, because I likely lost that right when I killed her mom.
“I… we can be alone together,” Mason said, like I should be surprised.
But I didn’t tell her obviously, so that was a win in my book.
“but, I don’t want to be alone with Lucian—and I don’t want you three left with the kids unsupervised.”
I folded one leg over the other and leaned back. “You seriously think that I’d hurt my—”
Sophia clamped a hand over my mouth.
“Sounds good!” she chirped.
My jaw tensed, but somehow I managed not to bite her palm… even though I really wanted to.
“And I’m moving in,” Mattie declared, looking between Sophia and me.
Her words landed like a hand grenade. For a moment, time stood still, not even the ticking of a wall clock disrupted the silence.
My pulse hummed in my ears. I wanted to argue, to say no, to tell her I’d rather drink bleach than cohabitate with her.
But with Sophia’s fucking hand on my mouth, I couldn’t speak.
That left the she-devil herself to answer.
“If that helps you feel safe, of course Mattie can stay,” Sophia said brightly.
The damage was done. I couldn’t disagree without looking like a fucking psycho.
So I just tried to focus on the small win: Mason was back. Things could maybe return to normal.
But the defeat seemed much larger: the cult hadn’t just tracked me down.
They’d implanted a snitch directly into my home.