7. Chapter 7 #2
Mason didn’t look away from me, but she chewed her lip as she thought, “You promise you won’t think I’m crazy?”
This was going to be good.
“Never in a million years.”
Mason’s gaze bounced to the door for just a moment before she focused back on me. “You know how you wouldn’t show me the photo of Calvin Waters?”
“...Uh, yeah?” Because there was no reason for Mason to know who he actually was.
I wanted her to hate Cameron, not fear him. If Mason knew she was living under the same roof as a serial killer, she’d be a nervous wreck.
She chewed on her lip for a beat before asking, “Is it because he’s Cameron?”
My heart smacked against my ribs, and I choked on a breath. How the absolute fuck did she figure that out?
“I-is it what?” I barely managed to get the words out.
“Is Cameron Cole, my boyfriend, Calvin Waters?”
Oh, so apparently, boyfriend was a term Mason was just handing out now. Between that realization and the fact that Mason hit the nail on the head, I was at a total loss for words .
Her stare sent a chill down my spine. It was like she was dissecting my every movement, every microexpression. Every moment I stayed silent, I confirmed her suspicion.
“I–” My mouth was impossibly dry. Still, I forced myself to swallow. “Princess, why do you think that?”
Mason stared at me for a moment before rattling off a few reasons. Cameron was around the age Calvin should be; they had similar hobbies, and most importantly, Cameron told her he was from Kingsbury. Seriously, could that man get any more stupid?
Once she got to the last one, I forced myself to laugh.
“Mason, you do realize Kingsbury is a town in South Carolina, right?” I bluffed.
After this, I’d have to Google that to make sure it was true.
Her nose wrinkled in the cutest way possible, “It is?”
I plastered on a bright smile and nodded. “Plus, Calvin is my prime suspect. Do you think Cameron could kill someone?”
“I–well, no.” She admitted. “But, I don’t think Calvin killed anyone.”
“And that’s why I’m the detective, and you’re the musician.” I tapped her nose with my forefinger.
Her glare sent ice through my veins.
“If you’re the detective, I shouldn’t be doing a better job than you.”
Her comment was almost enough to make my jaw drop. Surely, that wasn’t what she actually meant?
“Excuse me?” I needed to give her a moment to explain herself.
“You’re a bad detective.” She stood on her tip-toes to tap my nose. Now that the action was done to me, I realized it was a little more than patronizing. “A good detective considers all possibilities. It sounds like you’ve already decided Calvin is guilty.”
“I’ve decided that because he is guilty.” Even if Dale was the mastermind, Cameron was a willing party.
His image led to the deaths of twelve women, and without me, Mason Albright would have been lucky number thirteen .
“I have the evidence, I know the case, and I’m the professional.” I reminded her. “I don’t pick up a guitar and tell you how to do your job.”
“No, but if you had valuable input, you could.”
I scrubbed my face with my hands. Clearly, we were going to go in circles if I didn’t put a stop to it. Part of me wanted to remind Mason that it was incredibly rude to tell someone they were bad at their job, especially when it wasn’t true. But, I could also feel that turning into a bigger fight.
I loved that Mason’s hormones made her easier to manipulate. That being said, I hated how irrational they were making her. So, instead of using facts that would inevitably piss her off, I settled for asking her something that would let her talk.
“Why are you so interested in Calvin Waters anyway?” It was hard to stay serious while asking a question like that.
For some reason, girls had an obsession with serial killers, especially if they were attractive.
And, if Cameron would just take care of himself and also shut the fuck up, he’d fit that bill.
So, I imagined that Mason’s fascination with him was something similar. Maybe she thought she could fix him.
“Because I just am!” Her words came out so clearly that it made my heart skip a beat.
Her face went blank as she stared up at me with a sort of steely conviction that was almost admirable. Mason drew in a breath so large that it caused her shoulders to rise before continuing.
“He was just a kid when he lost everything–”
“He burned down his family home with everyone inside it.”
My comment caused Mason’s teeth to click shut. At least she was smart enough to know when just to let me talk. Even if what I was about to say wasn’t exactly true, she had no way of knowing that.
“He killed his family with no remorse and went on to found a cult that sacrifices pregnant women, Mason.”
Her eyes went wide as I said that. “What do you mean?”
“All I wanted you to do was translate something for me. I wanted to keep you from just how fucking scary my case is.” I promised, taking one of her hands in both of mine. “Calvin Waters is a bad man. And if he got close to you, he’d kill you.”
A sudden tremble infected her hand, and I had to fight a smile. I was right. Terror was an absolute delight on Mason’s soft features. But she was supposed to avoid stress right now. So, instead of telling her how they sacrificed the women, I pulled her in.
“But, with me around, he won’t get near you.”
Her breath warmed my chest as she nodded, and I felt a little guilty as she sniffled.
I pulled her face back, cupping it in both my hands.
It was that instant that I decided that I liked the fullness of Mason’s face.
It made her look innocent, like she was a sacred gift to be treasured, and she was.
“Please don’t be scared,” I whispered.
Mason looked away as she nodded. I pressed a kiss to the top of her head and held her as tight as I could. If I could bottle the high I got from having her like this, I would. Instead, I’d just have to live with slowly making her hate Cameron.