Page 2 of Please Save Me

Then my body went limp, and Dale’s smooth drawl warmed my ear.

“Congratulations on passing the test. I got big plans for you, boy.”

What the fuck was he talking about? I wanted to punch his teeth out of his head, but at the same time I wanted to beg him to save my family. Instead, my eyes fell closed, and the world as I knew it vanished.

Chapter 1

Cameron

Present day

Hartwood, Maine

Mason Albright is going to die.

Those words ricocheted off the insides of my skull as I watched Dale’s truck disappear around the curve of our driveway. Our conversation had been short, given that I didn’t have a damn thing to say to him. He’d fed me some line about how he “came to town to see how I was doing,” but I knew that was a load of crap. He was here todestroymy family once again.

The crushing weight of my guilt was almost too much to bear. I had thrown Mason’s entire life off-course with my carelessness, and now her execution would be carried out by the same cruel hands that shaped my past. She’d be condemned to hellfire for carrying my child.

I squeezed my eyes tight, trying to dispel the images from the past that threatened to gnaw away at my sanity. The screams of past lovers all desperately pleading for my help, the blinding light and oppressive heat radiating from each roaring inferno, the way Dale would pat me on the back after every merciless execution and say, “Not to worry, son. We’ll welcome our savior in due time.”

After years of hiding from Dale’s master plan, I had foolishly dared to dream that I might get to meet my daughter. I had allowed myself to fantasize about raising Rosie, being there for her first steps, and watching her grow. Now all those plans were one wrong move away from going up in smoke.

If Mason died, I’d be going with her. The cycle of death and suffering that had plagued my existence would end, and the world would probably be better off.

The winds of late October nipped at my nose, reminding me it was too cold to stay outside much longer. But what other choice did I have? If I walked inside and saw Mason sitting there, I was afraid I’d collapse. Or, even worse, tell hereverything. She already knew who Calvin Waters was—not only that, she was sympathetic toward him. But would she remain that way if she knew he wasme?

My thoughts were once again derailed by the flicker of the porch light, followed by the shrill echo of bats. But as their chittering call destroyed the stillness of the night, something in me shifted.

For the first time in my life, I wasn’t afraid of Dale.

Actually... that wasn’t true. The man still scared the living shit out of me; I had scars to prove the rationality of that particular fear. But the thought of losing my little family terrified me more than that wicked son of a bitch ever could. I wouldn’t give up my perfect little life without a fight. To protect them, I would become themonsterthat Dale had always wanted me to be. His blood would be the only one spilled this time, and I knew just the right person to help me.

With that in mind, I headed back inside. The rose-red door protested my return, squeaking loud enough to let the whole damn house know I was back. The warmth from the forced air enveloped me, batting away the cold that clung to me like a second skin. As I passed under the upstairs landing and emerged into the living room, I found Mason snuggled up in the reading nook with a blanket and a new book. Her mismatched gaze drifted back up to me, and her lips parted slightly.

“That was quick.” She dog-eared the corner of her current page, carefully folding the paper between her delicate fingers.

“I got to the restaurant and realized I forgot my wallet... sorry, Sweetpea.”

Mason seemed to believe me as she settled back into the chair and reopened her book. God, I hate lying to her. Ironic, considering everything she knew about my life was a lie. Cameron Cole, the all-American farmer, the one born and raised in South Carolina, never existed.

Mason looked up suddenly, a quizzical look on her face. “What did I ask you to get again?”

Mason had been struggling with a condition Lucian liked to call “pregnancy brain.” Her short-term memory was pretty much wiped out, meaning she was constantly losing things and forgetting what she’d done moments before. More than once, I’d seen her walk into a room and freeze in the doorway, trying to remember why she was there. Most times, I didn’t mind it; it was strangely endearing, and I loved being able to help.

“Pizza,” I reminded her.

Her nose scrunched slightly.

“If I ask you to get something else, will you be mad?”

Even with my heart still racing from Dale’s sudden appearance, Mason drew a genuine chuckle from me.

“Guess it’s a good thing I forgot my wallet. What would you rather have?”

She thought for a minute, rubbing the curve of her stomach and eliciting a kick from Rosie that was strong enough to move the blanket.

“She says she wants tacos.”

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