Page 93 of Please Open Me
“You’re being dramatic,” I snapped.
Her eyebrow twitched. “Am I?”
“Yes. You’ve known them for five minutes. I’ve known them my whole life. I’d notice if someone was a soulless murderer.”
I didn’t wait for her reply. I swung my legs off the bed, ignoring the sharp twist in my gut.“You need to leave.”
“Before you force me out, ask them.”
“Ask them what? ‘Hey, my girlfriend thinks you’re murderers, is she right?’” I barked. “Because after this–you are an ex. I don’t want to see you again.”
She didn’t flinch. Just crossed her arms and nodded toward the living room. “Then it shouldn’t be hard to prove me wrong.”
Fine.
If it shut her up, I’d do it.
So I stomped my way upstairs, Mattie following like an irritating shadow.
In the living room, Cameron and Sophia curled together on the couch, a half-empty bottle of wine on the table. The glow of the TV flickered across their faces until Sophia spotted me.
“Hiiiii, Honeybee.” She patted the cushion beside her, beaming. “Come sit with me.”
Cameron’s gaze swept over me–stomach, then face–and his mouth twitched into a suppressed smile before his hand came up to hide it.
“How you feeling, Sweetpea?” he asked.
“I’m fine.” I clutched the empty watermelon bowl to my chest. “Actually… I had a question.”
Sophia tilted her head. “Come closer. You’re making me nervous standing around like that. It feels like an intervention.”
Disobeying her, but only slightly, I slid into the corner beside Cameron. Something about him felt safer than her right now. He wrapped an arm around me, kissed my temple.
“You okay? Are you hurting?” he whispered, eyes flicking to my stomach.
My jaw twitched. I hadn’t really noticed the dull, period-like ache until he said it. “I’m fine,” I whispered back, then leaned away just enough to meet both their eyes.
“Have you ever killed anyone?” I asked Cameron.
His eyes widened, darting to Sophia. I’d startled him, but his answer was light.
“Sweetpea, I’ve told you everything about me. Do you think I could kill someone?” He laughed, but the sound felt… strained.
I glanced at Mattie. Arms crossed, chin tilted toward Sophia.
“Sophia,” I said, “have you ever killed anyone?”
Her smile thinned, the warmth fading from her face. “Excuse me?”
“Like—murder. A person. Breathing, thinking, existing… until you made them not.”
She blinked at me. Then at Cameron. Assessing.
“Cam, I think Mason needs to go lie down. Can you help her to your room?”
“I think that’s a good idea,” he said, standing. “Come on, Mama, it’s time to rest.”
My pulse jumped. If he decided to pick me up, I couldn’t stop him. And for the first time, the thought wasn’t comforting.
