Page 62 of Please Hate Me

“People change. I’ve changed,please.”

I wrapped my finger around the handle of my knife before freeing it from the floor. From there, I shoved it through her hand. She shrieked, and God, I wished I could record that sound.

“T-there’s no difference between you and me,” she stuttered. “Whoever sent you is going to turn on you—”

Once again, I moved my knife, this time cutting directly through her jugular. Her words turned into a garbled shriek as she thrashed and twitched. But no one was coming to save her.

Once the Slasher stopped moving, I stood up and withdrew my knife.

“The difference between you and I is simple: I’m right, and you’re wrong.” I looked down at the corpse. “Also, I’m alive, and you’re not.”

A smirk tugged at my lips. I slipped out of my gloves before grabbing my burner phone. I’d have to spin one hell of a lie if I wanted my boss to believe this was self-defense, but the rush was well worth the inconvenience.

After returning to my hotel room and washing up, I was free to unwind and think about my top priority: Mason. Also, stopping the Sons of Christ. But mostly Mason.

The scratchy carpet of my hotel room stuck to my socks as I paced for a moment before grabbing my cigarettes and heading to the balcony. There was a bite in the air as I stepped outside and shut the sliding glass door behind me. My two top prioritieswere one and the same, really; Mason was in the lion’s den of my case. All I needed to do was call her and find out what she’d learned about Cameron.

I placed a filter between my lips as I pulled my phone from my pocket. I unlocked the phone and smiled at my lock screen. It was a digital version of Mason’s twenty-week sonogram, and if I held my thumb on the screen, I could see Lavender hiccup. My heart swelled as I thought about how close I was to my baby girl being in my arms instead of her mommy’s womb.

I loved that Mason was pregnant because it drew her to me, but I loved Lavender for a different set of reasons entirely. Building a life with Mason was my chance to have a family who was proud of me for who I was, not what I could do. Mason and Lavender didn’t care if I was a genius. They didn’t care that I had a bank account that was full to bursting. They just wanted my time.

I unlocked my device and found Mason’s contact. A phone call would suffice, but I missed my princess, so I started a video call. I adjusted my hair in the self-view as I waited for her to answer.

It took three rings for her to pick up. Mason’s face was half buried in a white pillow, and her eyes were squinted. She had an autumn-colored comforter around her shoulders, and concern washed over me. That wasn’t my blanket. Where was she?

I tried to put the gnawing doubt aside with an award-winning smile.

“Good morning, beautiful.”

She groaned and hid her face. “I feel like I’m going to vomit.”

Her accent was always thicker when she was tired, and I loved the way it sounded.

“You know Lavender hates when your stomach is empty,” I reminded her. “I left crackers on the nightstand for you.”

Did she not see them? No, yesterday was her first morning waking up without me. She didn’t complain then. That meant she probably saw them.

“I’m not—” Mason’s shoulders lurched as she fought off a gag. “I’m not in our room.”

My heart stopped.

“Where are you?”

Please don’t be in Lucian’s room. For the love of everything not terrible in this world, do not let it be Lucian’s room.

“Cameron’s room,” she mumbled, finally looking back. “You said you wanted me to join their relationship and not be alone…”

My shoulders fell, and it felt like I could breathe again. Now, to focus on the case.

“And I do. I’m glad you’re not alone.” I chuckled, hoping to mask any hint of jealousy in my voice.

“How is Cameron, anyway?”

Her cheeks flushed, and she squeaked. It seemed the trio was dragging my girl out of her shell, whether she wanted it or not. And while I was glad she was healing, I really had hoped to be the one to help her do it.

“He’s fine,” she breathed. “He took me out for ice cream last night.”

Oh.

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