It took Sebastian by surprise, the betrayal, how deeply it stung. Alex and Jolie had been with him since they were kids and had never given him so much as a lick of trouble—had, in fact, been appreciative of how well they were taken care of. They didn’t want for anything. He had made sure of it.

No, that wasn’t entirely true. He couldn’t give them their freedom.

Frank said, “I’m guessing they had some plan in place to run away together, start a family.”

“Run to where?”

“No idea. I’m sure it was more of a fantasy than an actual plan. You remember what it’s like at that age, the stupid shit you do when you’re in love. You believe anything in the world is possible.”

Frank, Sebastian knew, was referring to him and Ava.

Frank, though, didn’t have any personal experience in this area. Frank had never been in love—at least as far as Sebastian knew. He had no idea if Frank saw someone or got laid or if his childhood friend had any interest in sex. Sebastian had no idea about Frank’s sexual preference, either, because Frank was still, after all their years together and after all the shit they’d gone through, intensely, almost pathologically private.

Still, Frank was dead-on about the stupid shit you did when you were young and in love—especially the first time you fell hard for someone, believed she was the great love of your life, your soul mate, the person God created only for you. It made the impossible seem possible.

Frank said, “Where are you?”

“I was heading home to prepare for my new life on the run. I’m almost there. Let me change out of my clothes. Then I’ll meet you in Long Beach.” Sebastian wasn’t going to ruin a perfectly good Tom Ford suit.

“Stay home. I’ll take care of Paul. You don’t need to be there, see what happens to your kid.”

“He is not my kid.”

“But he is the kid of your former longtime girlfriend or live-in or common-law wife or whatever you called her. You don’t need to be there for the particulars. Sometimes ignorance is bliss.”

Sebastian’s thoughts shifted to Trixie. Like his dearly departed mother, Trixie had lived her life as a God-fearing woman. She devoted her time to various charities and went to church and organized fund-raisers, many of which were devoted to helping the families of missing carriers. Trixie had had absolutely no idea of her husband’s real business. Sebastian had made sure of it.

When she was diagnosed with Stage IV malignant melanoma, it was Sebastian, not her, who had brought up Pandora, explaining how carrier blood could destroy cancer cells and halt the progress of the disease, sometimes reverse it. Sebastian said he knew people—discreet people—who could acquire it. No one would ever know.

But I’ll know, Trixie had told him. It’s illegal and, more importantly, immoral. An abomination. That blood will come from some child who was kidnapped and tortured. If God wants me to die, then it is his will.