27. Chapter 27
Sebastian
Last night, Cameron Cole was nothing more than a means to an end.
I was high, and I wanted to feel valued; I wanted to feel attractive; I wanted to see what all the fuss about the literal bear of a man was.
And I learned something about myself: I didn’t like casual sex.
In the moment, it felt great, but it now left me with a looming sensation of guilt.
I knew I was in the right. Cameron and I were both consenting adults; he was in a polyamorous relationship, and we shared a partner. Hell, if I told Mason what I did, she’d probably give me a congratulatory high-five and ask for the details.
But she wasn’t where my guilt stemmed from.
Instead… I felt a little bad for using Cameron.
This type of feeling wasn’t like me at all.
In my experience, everyone except for Mason existed to use me or be used by me.
This was true of my family, my friends, and even random strangers on the street.
But… Last night with Cameron didn’t seem like that.
He asked for my consent, and if I told him to stop, it felt like he would have.
He even stayed by me as we slept last night, running his thumb across my back until I fell asleep.
Deep down, it felt like he cared about me, but I knew that was my imagination talking. So, instead of dwelling on the fact and reminding myself I was the least desirable person in my house, I focused on the task at hand: Meeting with Dale.
At some level, Dale had to be involved in the Sons of Christ. The proof I had of this came from the mention of his name in the newspaper article I had Mason translate for me about a month ago.
I also had testimony from Cameron, but seeing as he was also involved with the cult, I had to take it with a grain of salt.
After all, Cameron could be fluffing up Dale’s involvement just to make himself seem better.
All I knew for sure was that Dale had enough power in the community not to live in a dump like the Parsonage.
I swiped my fingers across the wooden dining table before me.
Dust stuck to my skin, and I wiped it on the sleeve of my jacket.
Dale had instructed me to make myself comfortable while he put on a pot of coffee for us, but that was an impossible task.
Not only was the house coated in the dirt and grime that only time could provide, I didn’t trust Dale.
Not that I thought he could hurt me, but that his interest alone was disconcerting.
I rationed that he probably knew I was a detective, but I assumed if that were the case, he’d be smart enough to hurt me. And, by now, he’d had time.
He could have cut my brake lines after our encounter in the grocery store, he could have had Cameron apprehend me yesterday, and who knows what other chances he had. I knew for certain he was following me, but if his intent was not malicious, why was he doing it?
The house creaked as Dale made his way out of the kitchen with a silver tray in hand.
The cups chattered slightly as he trembled on his way to the table.
Normally, I would have just let him struggle, but I didn’t want to have to deal with spilled coffee.
My shoes were expensive, and if Dale couldn’t afford a suitable place to live, I knew he wouldn’t be able to replace my oxfords.
So, instead of making a scene near an old man, I stood and placed my hands inches from his. Our knuckles touched, and I realized just how cold Dale was. The temperature of his body made it feel like he should have been dead a long time ago.
But, in some regards, it was better late than never .
“Allow me.” I forced a smile, hoping to appear friendly, but my clipped tone probably negated it.
Still, Dale eased into my offer. His shoulders fell slightly as he let out a sigh of relief.
“Thank ya. Never get old,” he joked, patting my back, almost causing me to drop the coffee.
I wrestled with the urge to tell him not to touch me. Instead, I laughed.
“It happens to the best of us,” I assured him as I placed the tray on the table.
Dale nodded as he settled into the chair closest to mine.
“Bein’ a senior citizen is as much of a blessing as it is a curse,” he started. “It means I’ve lived a long life… but it also means I ain’t got many years left.”
Thank God.
“Nonsense… Almost all my grandparents are alive and kicking… I have a great grandma in Columbia, too, now that I’m thinking about it.” Castillos lived forever. But that made sense, seeing only the good died young.
He offered me a tight-lipped smile as he reached for a coffee mug and the pot. The coffee came out in a long, dark stream as he filled his mug to the brim before taking a drink. He closed his all-too-green eyes as he did, and I assumed it was to savor the probably awful coffee he made.
He let out another deep breath as he put the mug on the table.
“The world ain’t meant for everyone. God has a set number of years planned for all of us. Once we reach the end of our time, we’re done, and I feel like my life is going to end sooner rather than later.”
… Did he know I planned on killing him?
“Can I ask why you think that is?”
Dale hesitated before coughing into his hand. I wrinkled my nose in disgust as he hacked. Once he regained his composure, he apologized for his outburst—as he should.
“I can feel it in my bones,” he continued. “That’s actually why I brought you here. ”
I cocked my head to the side. Maybe this was his fancy way of ending his life. One of the Ten Commandments was you went to Hell if you killed yourself or something like that. But it wasn’t suicide if someone else murdered you.
“I can tell by the way you’re lookin’ at me that you’re a bit confused, not that I blame you.” He smiled at me, causing me to shiver involuntarily. “Would you like me to elaborate?”
Something in my gut told me I was in danger, so I reached for the gun I kept hidden between my belt and blazer. Shooting was my least favorite method of execution. Too many terrible memories. That aside, it was the quickest way to protect myself if things went awry.
“Please.” I kept my tone even as my fingers wrapped around the grip.
“As I’m sure you’re aware, my son is a complete and utter waste of space.” Dale slid his chair out and took to pacing. “He’s stupid. He’s ugly. And God knows he’ll never be fit to scrub dirt from my shoes, let alone bear the Cole family name.”
Normally, I loved hearing about how terrible Cameron was. No one other than Dale ever indulged me when it came to shit-talking his son, but today, hearing Dale hurl insults at Cameron didn’t scratch the same itch.
“What does that have to do with me?” I tried to sound bored.
Dale stopped pacing and turned to face me.
“You, my boy, are everything Cameron never was. You’re intelligent, successful, and handsome… even if I don’t fully get why you did this to your hair.” He reached out to toy with the newly black strands, and I acted like his touch didn’t bother me.
I also did my best to shrug off the comment about my hair, but the strange ache of self-consciousness lingered.
“Sebastian, I know you ain’t a religious man… but I reckon you could do well as the face of my church.”
I stared at him for what felt like forever. There was no way Dale could be serious. That thought sunk in, perhaps a little too deep, because the next sound I made was a bark of scornful laughter.
Dale’s expression hardened slightly. “Why’re you laughing? ”
I covered my hand with a fist and cleared my throat. “Sorry, I just… you said it yourself, Father Cole, I’m not a religious man.”
“I prefer Reverend to Father,” he corrected, and I wasn’t sure what the difference was. “And you’re not religious… yet .”
The way he said that last part read as a threat.
“Everyone has a point where they need God,” he explained. “Some are born craving his light. While others, such as yourself, need to feel a moment of pure despair to embrace our Heavenly Father’s love. Have you ever felt a moment like that?”
His gaze sliced through me like a hot knife through butter, and I shifted slightly. This was pretty much the same spiel he had given in the hospital. Still, just the little extra elaboration had my mind unconsciously searching for an answer.
The closest I’d ever gotten to that was learning Mason left after I had just ruined my life to save hers. But Dale didn’t need to know that. So, I lifted my chin and pretended to be confident.
“Never. My life has given me everything I could have ever wanted.” I’d told Dale that Mason was my wife the first time we met. And, if that were the truth, my life would have been perfect.
Something in what I said caused Dale’s smile to widen. It felt like his lips were one twitch away from splitting.
“Ah, so the world’s been kind to you… But what about your wife? Your child?”
And just like that, I saw red. Dale’s comment alone shouldn’t have been enough to piss me off, but I knew all about the Sons of Christ. Someone in the cult slaughtered pregnant women, and seeing as Cameron practically worshiped the ground Mason walked on, I didn’t think it was him.
“If you touch my wife, I will kill you. And I’ll enjoy it,” I warned.
Dale’s expression brightened like that was the one thing he’d hoped to hear from all of this.
“Son, I wouldn’t dream of touchin’ your lady or your baby… just throwing it out there. ”
My gaze narrowed.
You better not touch my girls.
My jaw was tense, and thoughts of just how easy it’d be to end Dale consumed me. But I wasn’t a bad person. I didn’t kill without evidence, not anymore. And, after I finished this case, I’d never kill again.
My chair squealed against the floor as I stood up and stormed out before I had a chance to lose my cool.
The air was brisk as I exited the parsonage and headed for my car. Once I was in the safety of my SUV, I opened the glove box and pulled out my cigarettes.
I placed the filter between my lips as I stared at the house with nothing but contempt. Dale’s shadow lingered on the gauzy white curtains, an eerie reminder that he was watching.
My hands shook from residual nerves as I sparked my lighter.
I may not know exactly how the pieces of the Sons of Christ puzzle fit together, but I knew one thing: There was no way in hell I’d ever join Dale.