Page 160 of Please Open Me
Nor that I was planning to make it nine once I figured out who Sebastian’s ex-boyfriend was.
“Did I know any of them?” she asked softly.
And that was the million-dollar question.
“You knew the first four.”
Honestly, if it weren’t for Mason, the first four might not have happened.
The first person I ever killed was the social worker who reunited Mason with her mom. There was no reason for her to go back to Holly’s house. Even at fourteen, I could see that.
And though I was scared, I figured no one would question it if her brakes just happened to stop working. She lived up the road, so one night I snuck out and pulled on everything I could reach under the car.
Car accidents were easy to stage.
The second? A cheerleader who thought it was funny to hide Mason’s clothes during gym, forcing her to walk around wrapped in a towel until she could find something in the lost and found.
Sports accidents were also easy to fake—especially when she was at the top of the pyramid.
One wobble during practice. That’s all it took.
The third was more for me, but I wouldn’t have known I had it in me without her. Our seedy sophomore history teacher tried to corner me for “extra credit,” so I put a little “magic” in his coffee. He got sicker and sicker, and eventually died of organ failure.
And finally—Holly Albright.
Her kicking Mason out when she was at her lowest? Diabolical.
It took a few years, but I got my revenge. I tracked down her dealer, paid him to spike her stash, and let her overdose.
Technically, I didn’t deliver the killing blow. But still. Mason didn’t need to know I killed her mom.
I couldn’t imagine that conversation going well in any lifetime.
“And did you have a reason?” Mason asked, her voice trembling.
I wondered what she was thinking—if she was afraid of me, or of what I might say.
So I just nodded. “They were the worst people I’ve ever met. And I wouldn’t have done it if I had any other choice.”
She seemed to accept that. Thank God.
Just as we were about to kiss and make up, my phone vibrated. I held up a finger and glanced at the screen.
My lips thinned. Momma.
I declined the call. Rude of her to interrupt me before I devoured my girlfriend’s pussy.
I placed my phone on Sebby’s nightstand and pressed Mason back into the mattress. She tensed, but the second my fingers grazed her collarbone, her eyes fluttered shut.
I hovered over her, kissed her neck, and reached for her dress.
My phone vibrated again.
My jaw tensed.
“Can I have just a moment?” I asked, forcing a smile that didn’t even feel convincing.
Mason nodded too fast—almost nervously. I doubted she cared about the call. She just wanted it over with.
