Chapter 33
Sebastian
Punishing my body at the gym to soothe my mind felt like I was one wrong move away from falling into bad habits again. Still, aching muscles seemed like the best way to quell the loud thoughts.
Well, that and yelling at Dale.
When I designed the gym in my basement, I never intended to use the punching bag in the corner.
Not for working out. It was there to give me an outlet after Alex made me feel small, when he made me feel worthless and like I needed to scream or destroy something to prove I was still here. That I was still human.
My fist slammed into the leather, chains rattling overhead, the sound bleeding through the phone call I’d shoved onto my headphones.
“I need you to get your fucking rat out of my house,” I demanded as my fist collided with the bag again.
A dull ache split through my knuckles. I didn’t even own gloves, and had assumed if I wrapped my hands well enough, it would work the same.
I was wrong. Too late.
“Brother Sebastian,” Dale drawled. “I haven’t the foggiest idea what you’re talking about.”
“Mattie.”
Twack! Twack!
Her name was punctuated by two more hits to the bag. Rusty red splotches stained the tan bag, but they barely registered.
“Ah, Matilda.” Dale's smile infected his tone, making it almost reverent. “She’s been bowing at my altar since she was a little girl. The Smiths were such loyal followers of Christ.”
“Then tell her to go back home.” My knuckles slammed against leather again, the chain above shrieking in protest.
“I can’t do that,” Dale said smoothly. “I never told her to remain with you in the first place.”
My fist stilled mid-swing. “What the fuck does that mean?”
“It means, Brother Sebastian, that Matilda makes her own choices. Did I ask her politely to check on Mason? Yes.” His voice lowered, curling like smoke. “Her decision to stay in Portland with you is purely up to her. She’s human, just like you; she’s allowed to make her own decisions.”
My jaw clenched until my teeth ached as fear surged in my chest. I couldn’t remember if I told him I was in Portland, or if that was something Mattie reported back to him.
“Your twisted scripture has fuck all to do with Mason–leave her out of it.”
Dale clicked his tongue. “If a shepherd is to cultivate land, he chooses fertile soil. And, if the land is known to be fertile and his seeds refuse to sprout–what is the problem, Sebastian?”
My lips parted slightly as I realized he was no longer calling me Father Castillo.
“The problem is she’s not land. She’s–”
“The Sons of Christ have no further use for you, Sebastian. A prophet who fails to produce an heir is like a cow that produces no milk.”
My jaw unclenched a fraction and then slammed shut again. The stupid thing about Dale was that I couldn’t tell what he meant as an insult, and what to him was prophecy. His casual cruelty wore the suit of scripture so well it left my head spinning.
My pulse kicked up in my throat, leaving me to marinate in the type of fury that left you wanting to do something ugly. Something you couldn’t take back. Something that definitely wouldn’t help prove to Mason that I wasn’t a murderer.
“Mason isn’t livestock, and she’s not an animal for you to breed,” I said, voice low enough that I hoped the phone wouldn’t pick up the tremor. “you don’t get to touch her with your words or your followers.”
There was a long pause, as if Dale was giving himself time to savor my discomfort.
“You misunderstand me, Brother. I never touched her, and I never will. But, if the lord wills it, she will fall pregnant with or without you. Useful people follow their own plans, and, in dire situations, sometimes, outside forces will relocate them. And, if the Sons of Christ were to borrow her, well. To put it simply, it wouldn’t be wise for you to interfere with our harvest.”
Bile rose in my throat as he spoke, and my hands shook with the need to say something clever. The need to say something to shut him the fuck up. But, for the first time in my life, my wit had run dry, leaving me to say the only thing I could think of.
“If you come near Mason, I will fucking kill you.”
Dale hummed in response, almost as if that was the reaction he wanted.
“Your fire could have made you a leader, Sebastian. But you chose to let the sins of sloth and pride weigh down your righteous soul. Trust me when I say, the Sons of Christ no longer have a use for you.”
“What the fuck do you mean? Without a prophet, you don’t have a cult.”
“No. Without a prophet, I am forced to deliver the words of the Lord from my own mouth, and maybe that’s how God intended it to be.
” The line went quiet, almost as if Dale had forgotten he was speaking.
Then, Dale added, “Isolation is persuasive, Sebastian. Be careful how far you push those you love toward solitude.”
Click.
That was it. No room for argument. No room for questions. Just his words spoken as if they were gospel. And, I tried to call him back, just to yell, or tell him he was wrong, or do something to regain control.
But all I got was a robotic voice telling me that his number was no longer in service.
My chest rose and fell with staccato gasps as I stared at the phone. Time seemed to stand still, that was until heavy footfalls thudded down the steps.
I snapped out of the haze imposed by Dale's words and shoved my phone in my pocket just as Cameron came into view.
He was a welcome sight, but he looked far too stressed for my liking.
“What’s wrong?” I asked.
“Nothin’.” Cameron hopped off the bottom step before approaching me. “I’m gonna go pick up the kids. Wanted to see if you were gonna tag along, I know you missed them.”
I paused to stare at him. “Mason said she was picking up the kids.”
Right after she told me that Sophia and I weren’t allowed to be alone with the children.
Cameron’s expression soured. “Yeah, she did… but she’s not now.”
“What? Why?”
“'Cause she is upstairs asleep on the couch, and I’m gonna let her.” He placed a hand on the back of his neck. “She needs it, so don’t you go waking her up.”
A knot formed in my chest. “Is she… sick?”
Before everything started going crazy, she’d asked me if I thought her organs were failing. And while I hadn’t thought about her being unwell in some time, I needed to make sure.
“No,” Cameron replied, then hesitated for just long enough to tell me I wasn’t going to like what came next. “she’s pregnant.”
The word seemed to echo off the walls, bouncing around my skull until it finally sank in.
“She’s what?” I breathed as a terrible tremor infested my hands.
“Pregnant,” he repeated, slower this time. “and if you tell her I told you before she was ready, I will deny it… I just, I thought you should know, and I don’t think she's fixin’ to tell you.”
My ribs suddenly shrank, leaving my lungs to expand against the hard surface. It hurt, and no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t drag enough air in.
“She’s… pregnant,” I echoed, the word tasting foreign on my tongue. “Like… with a baby?”
Cameron nodded.
“I-is it Lucian’s?” God, after his outburst, I hoped not.
“I don’t think so…” he said non-discreetly.
“Is it yours?” I could have another redheaded baby.
Cameron wanted a son to round out his ideal four children. But, he slowly shook his head.
“I used condoms because I wasn’t ready for another one, but someone in our house thought pulling out was an effective form of contraception.”
I jabbed a hand at my chest.
“You think it’s mine?” I squeaked.
Slowly, Cameron nodded. “She hasn’t had a DNA test or anything. Fuck, she won’t even let me in on her appointments, so I don’t know, but if I had to guess…”
And just like that, my knees liquefied, leaving me to support myself on a nearby treadmill.
“Holy shit,” I whispered. “holy shit.”
“I didn’t tell you to freak you out—”
“Well, it worked anyway. I’m freaked out.” My words came out as a nervous half-laugh, half-sob.
A baby.
A baby.
Mine. Maybe.
Exactly what Dale wanted.
And, if Dale didn’t exist, this is exactly what I wanted.
Should I laugh?
Or cry?
Or curse God?
I dragged both hands down my face, trying to shove every thought out of my head.
“She hates me,” I said finally, words muffled behind my palms. “she thinks I’m a crazy serial killer. Why would—”
“She doesn’t hate you,” Cameron said firmly. “she’s just… overwhelmed. Plus, you know how she gets. She locks everything down when she’s scared, and she’s terrified. Both of losing you and of being next to you… I think it’s her hormones driving her crazy… Is it too early for that?”
I swallowed hard and my chest pulled tighter. “How far along is she?”
“Ten weeks, give or take, she’s got the cutest little belly, just don’t tell her that. I did, and she cried, and now I feel bad.”
“Ten weeks,” I repeated.
My mind shot back to when she was pregnant with Rosie, and, yeah, that tracked.
“She’s ten weeks, and she didn’t tell me?” I said slowly. “How long have you known?”
Cameron shifted from one foot to the other.
“A month?” He said shyly.
“A month!” I repeated. “And you didn’t tell me?”
“Look, at first I thought she was going to get an abortion, and then I think she was gonna tell you, and then she was afraid you’d leave, and—” He shrugged. “I’m gonna go get the kids. Are you coming?”
I stared at him, chest heaving like I’d just run a marathon.
“Mason thought I would leave?” After everything we’d been through.
“Seb,” Cameron cut in gently, but firmly enough to make me shut my mouth. “Right now, it doesn’t matter what she thought. What matters is she’s scared, and she’s exhausted, and she’s probably halfway convinced she’s doin’ this alone whether she wants to or not.”
I blinked at him, vision blurring around the edges.
“Don’t cry,” Cameron added quickly, pointing at me like that might stop the tears. “Seriously. Somehow, she’ll know and think she ruined your life or somethin’.”
I wiped my eyes.
“I wasn’t going to cry,” I scoffed.
He shot me a skeptical look but didn’t push. “Don’t tell her I told you either.”
“I won’t,” I promised automatically, even though I knew it was a lie.
“I’m serious,” Cameron warned. “not a word. Not a look. Not a ‘how’s the baby’.’ Nothing until she tells you, or she’s gonna bolt.”
I nodded, knowing he was probably right. But, I also knew the second he was out of the house, I was going to march upstairs and demand answers, even if I didn’t like them.