Seba
SIX MONTHS LATER
Florida man, Pastor William Sinclair, faces additional charges after hosting confession behind bars.
The local Fort Manor Pastor was arrested and detained without bail six months ago in connection to a multi-state drug trafficking ring.
Sinclair, who has been hosting confession for parishioners during scheduled visiting hours, has been allegedly communicating in code to colleagues on the outside regarding their operation.
All visitation rights for the pastor have been suspended while authorities continue the investigation.
My thumb hovers over the share icon. Not that anything good will come of it. But maybe I’m itching for a fight after the way Mom acted at last week’s disastrous family dinner.
What was supposed to be a low-key barbecue at Declan’s to catch up and celebrate breaking ground on our new house at the Grove— or as Cade calls it, Eden— turned into an episode of Family Feud.
Mom wasn’t even supposed to be there, but whatever plans she had canceled at the last minute, meaning she was already bitchy.
In an effort to salvage the evening, I let the first back-handed compliment slide, but the second her snide remarks shifted to my boyfriend and girlfriend, I lost it.
“Your coffee is getting cold, big guy,” Andrea says, sinking into the space beside me on the top step, overlooking rows upon rows of orange trees draped in morning fog.
Cramming three people (two of them fashion hoarders) into a rented trailer isn’t ideal, but it’s only temporary.
At least out here, we don’t have to deal with nosy busy-bodies poking their heads where they don’t belong.
“Just reading your article.”
She smirks around her own steaming mug. “Not mine, Evie Adam’s.”
I chuckle at the pen name. “Mmm, right. Isn’t Evie supposed to be packing?”
“Yeah,” she sighs, resting her head on my shoulder.
I know she’s nervous— this documentary is more than a passion project now.
After decoding the messages between Sinclair and Dr. Aldrich for the authorities, she’s been more determined than ever to get justice for the victims of her father’s crimes.
Naturally, when Ash called from Boston, she jumped at the opportunity to help.
But it’s heavy shit— heavier on her than she’d like to admit.
The things she’s learning keep her up at night, spiraling down rabbit hole after rabbit hole, a new horror waiting to be uncovered at the bottom of each one.
I kiss the top of her head. “Sure you don’t want us to come with you?”
“I’m sure.”
She doesn’t say it, but I hear it in the silence. I’m not bringing Cade into this.
Behind us, something crashes.
“Shitfucktits!” A clang. “We’re good!”
Both of us sigh.
“What’s this week’s episode?”
Andrea smirks. “Cooking with Cade and Casper.”
On cue, the menace stumbles out the door wearing an apron and…
“You’re not filming in your underwear,” I growl.
He rolls his eyes, lifting Casper— the white hognose snake coiled in his palm— and adjusting his tiny chef hat. “What’s that? Saint Seba is a possessive caveman?”
Casper’s tiny forked tongue flicks out.
“I know, I know, he doesn’t see the vision, but he will. No one can resist homemade cinnamon buns.”
Andrea twists at the waist. “Cinnamon buns? I thought you were the snack.”
He smirks at his snake. “See, our girl gets it.” He jolts like he’s been struck by lightning. “We have extra icing!” To Andrea. “Can I frost your tits?”
“Only if you frost Seba’s ass and lick it clean.”
“Deal!”
I pinch the bridge of my nose. “Do I have a say in this?”
“Nope,” they chirp in unison.
“Then you’re both getting icing to the face.”
Cade whoops, raising Casper overhead. “We’ll finish the episode later, little dude. I’ve got buns to eat.” Then he sprints inside.
“Keep the apron on!” I call after him. A manic laugh answers me.
“Please don’t get cum in my hair this time,” Andrea whines. “I just washed it.”
“No promises, baby girl.”
She huffs, rising from her seat next to me and extending a hand. I take it, bringing her fingers to my lips first.
“How ‘bout this,” I murmur, turning her hand over to kiss her palm. Then the inside of her wrist. “You frost that pretty pussy for me, and I’ll save the facial for Cade.”
A wicked grin spreads over those pouty lips.
“It’s gonna have to be quick. I’ve got a flight to catch.”
She tries to pull free, but I tighten my grip.
“One last thing.” I lace our fingers. “You need us, you call. I don’t give a shit what time it is or where you are, we’ll come for you. Understand?”
She brings our joined hands to her lips, murmuring against my knuckles. “I love you too, Seb.”
Something clatters.
“Noooo!” Cade wails. “Not the icing!”
Laughter bubbles in my chest. Andrea rolls her lips in, fighting it… and failing.
“Never a dull moment with that one,” she chuckles, helping me to my feet. As I follow her into the trailer, preparing for whatever mess my Troublemaker has made, I’m struck with a sense of nostalgia… for what I have right now.
Maybe Mom wasn’t completely wrong. Maybe there is a thing called fate. Maybe things do happen for a reason.
Because I know in my soul, I’m exactly where I’m meant to be.