Page 106 of Please Open Me
“No,” he admitted, looking at the ground. “They’re not.”
My throat closed around the lump rising there, part morning sickness, part heartbreak.
“Then what are they?” My voice came out smaller than I wanted.
Lucian’s throat bobbed as he swallowed, still tracing patterns on my stomach. Like the minuscule comfort he provided would be enough to distract me.
My eyes started to burn.
“Lucian,” I pushed him away. “Whatarethey?”
Lucian crossed his arms before looking up. When his eyes met mine, they were full of something dark and guilty, but not remorseful.
And, without the need for words, Iknewwhat those pills were. Maybe not the specifics, but I knew enough to say, with confidence, that Lucian had relapsed.
And, for the umpteenth time, my heart shattered. The only difference was, right now, I wasn’t worried about how emotionally obliterated my husband left me.
Instead, all I could think about was the kids. And I would bedamnedif I let them grow up with the same level of uncertainty that I did.
My kids, Jasper and Juniper, included, deserved better than to be raised by a gang of murderers and an addict. And, the desire to give them better than I ever had lit something in me. Something powerful, and hot, and uncomfortable to sit with.
But whatever it was spurred me to turn my back on Lucian.
And, for the first time since returning to America, I didn’t care if he followed.
Chapter26
Sebastian
Between my night with Rosie and the endless pacing that followed, I started to wonder if I was nocturnal.
But I preferred video games and babbling with my baby to the hollow pacing that came with Mason’s absence. Too many what-ifs for sleep.
What if she called the cops?
What if she got S.H.A.D.E. involved?
What if she never forgave us for mistakes she’d never understand?
And most pressing, what if I never saw my kids again?
The fact that that was my biggest fear felt humiliating. But I wasn’t the only one thinking it.
Cameron rarely drank, but when he did, whatever emotion he carried was amplified. He wasn’t always an angry drunk or a sad drunk, but whatever he felt, we all felt it too. Last night, that meant despair.
It was hard, watching such a strong man collapse under the weight of weakness. But Cameron wasn’t a god. He wasn’t an immovable force immune to grief. He was human, allowed to wallow, even if it hurt to see.
That’s why I was almost relieved when Lucian called just after three a.m.
The good news: he’d found Mason. She was safe. The kids, too.
The bad news: when I asked when they were coming home, his answer was simple.
They weren’t.
He blamed Leona, saying she wouldn’t let him near them because of our fight. But between the shake in his voice and my brother’s history of lying, I didn’t buy it.
Still, I didn’t push. Instead, I packed Cameron’s and my bags.
