Page 159 of Please Open Me
“Sorry. I just wanted to be closer to the baby,” I cooed.
Mason’s breath hitched as the last of her sleep disappeared. She pushed herself onto her elbows and looked at me.
I smiled.She looked away.
“I…” she started, slowly inching away.
“You what?” I asked softly, tilting my head like I was coaxing a confession from a child. “And don’t lie to me, Little Rabbit. A very bad dog let everything slip last night.”
Lucian, loose-lipped and guilt-ridden after their little heart-to-heart, had told me everything. How he’d poked holes in every single condom, hidden her birth control, and wanted to get her pregnant just to keep her here.
That’s why I made him take the kids to the trampoline park. Nothing like physical exhaustion, screaming toddlers, and sticky air to speed up withdrawal symptoms.
Now, it was just me and Mason.Sunlight warming her skin.My words hanging in the air like a noose she hadn’t noticed yet.
“I was going to tell you,” she mumbled, eyes still averted.
I reached forward, cupped her chin, and dragged her gaze back to me. “Were you?”
I didn’t believe her. But Mason nodded.
“I planned on it, I promise. It’s just—”She paused, eyes squeezing shut, breath catching as she choked on whatever words she couldn’t say.
“The homicide?” I offered.
She’d used the word murder a lot, and that didn’t quite fit. And if I called them what they really were—exterminations—she’d probably think I was a psycho.
Mason nodded.
“I just… Sebastian surprised me,” she said softly, then her eyes searched mine. “But you?”
I shrugged. “I’m more than willing to answer any questions. Just the two of us.”
She gnawed on her lip a moment, then tried to pull away. I slipped an arm around her waist.
“Do you know who Sebastian killed?” she asked.
I was a little jealous I wasn’t her first concern.
Not that I had anything scandalous to offer. Maybe if I played wingman for him, he’d do the same for me.
“No. But he and I worked for the same company before he quit to become a piercer. According to his file, outside of work obligations, he’s only killed one person.”
Honestly, that was probably the lowest number I’d ever seen in a S.H.A.D.E. file. Usually, we didn’t recruit people with fewer than three murders under their belt. We were seasoned professionals, after all.
Mason nodded. She didn’t press the issue, but I could see the gears turning behind her eyes.
“Who did you kill?”
I should’ve expected that question. But I hadn’t.
I figured she’d let it go, maybe assume it was self-defense or a misunderstanding.
Neither of which were true.
“I’ve killed eight people. Outside of work.”
She didn’t need to know the ins and outs of how I got away with it.
