Текст книги "The Wrath of Cain"
Автор книги: Kathy Coopmans
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Chapter Three
Calla
“What?”
I am transfixed by horror. Cain is out of his damned mind if he thinks I am staying here in his den of illegal activity. I writhe free of his firm hold and slap him across the face, the sound echoing loudly in the room. He flinches slightly, backing away and giving me enough room to breathe. My chest heaves up and down with uneven breaths.
“You can’t keep me here against my will, Cain. What the hell is wrong with you? Good God, have you been doing the drugs you sell? Because you are fucked in the head if you think I’m staying here with you while all this shit happens right in front of me. Besides, my dad will come looking for me soon. I’m done talking to you. I’m leaving.”
He grabs my arm, bends, and hoists me into the air, his other hand planted firmly on my ass as he throws me over his shoulder.
“Put me down!” I shriek, kicking and doing my best to inflict damage with my stilettos while dangling upside down.
“Shut your mouth, Calla.”
He’s too strong for me. I still try and put up a fight as he retreats across the floor. His strides are quick as he takes us outside, the gravel crunching underneath his black boots.
“Cain, don’t do this. You have no right!”
I see the legs of several men and hear them calling out to him about getting some. He is getting nothing from me but a kick in his damn nuts when he puts me down. I’m getting tossed around like a rag doll.
“Help me, you fucking assholes!” I scream.
Cain chuckles.
“No one is going to help you. Now shut the hell up, or I will tape your mouth shut and tie you to my fucking bed until you do as you’re goddamn told.”
Before I can retort, he abruptly stops at the sound of a shrill voice behind us.
“Cain, what the hell are you doing?”
Emerald. Even though I am hanging upside down, I know it’s her by the desperation in her voice. I feel Cain swivel around.
“Can someone get this cunt the fuck away from here?”
“No!” she wails. “Damn it, Cain, what’s going on?”
“Don’t tell me what the fuck to do. It’s none of your goddamned business. Now fucking leave before I have you thrown out.”
Oh, my God, if I didn’t hate her so much, I just might feel sorry for the bitch. Without another word to her, Cain turns his back and strides away, leaving her standing there shouting and cursing the both of us.
I have no idea where we are going until I feel and then see him climb a few steps. Panic sets in. Memories flood my mind from the one and only time I was in this house. I start to pound on his back with everything I have to get him to release me.
He continues across the front porch, ignoring the beating I am inflicting on him. Once we’re inside, he stomps up the stairs. My heart is beating frantically. Finally, I cave and give in to my raw emotions, and I start to cry.
“Please, Cain, don’t do this. I’ll beg if I have to.”
Still nothing from him. I screech through my tears when he tosses me onto his bed. He pulls my shoes off, tossing them behind his back. My expensive Jimmy’s hit the wall with a little thwack. I’m sobbing now, and scared.
“Stop crying. I’m not going to hurt you.”
He’s gentle when he squats down in front of me. I refuse to look at him. My anger at myself for being so weak consumes me.
“Let me go, Cain. You don’t want me here any more than I want to be.”
The bed shifts when he sits down next to me. I stay still, for the first time admitting I’m scared of this Cain Bexley I do not know. All kinds of fucked up scenarios are invading my head. I should have brought my dad with me. No one knows where the hell I am.
“You’re shaking.”
A warm, rough, calloused hand settles on my knee. I flinch from the contact.
“Listen to me for just one minute. There are a few things you need to know.”
I keep my head bowed down, my hair shielding him from seeing my face as I watch my tears land on my skirt one by one.
“Fuck me. The last thing in this world I ever wanted to do was to hurt you again, baby. Before I tell you anything, I need you to know that.”
I close my eyes. Every bit of hurt from that horrible night comes rushing back. Him calling me baby is breaking me all over again.
“I had to do it, Calla. My dad left me no choice.”
My head snaps up at the mention of his father.
“What do you mean, you had no choice?”
He sighs, pulling his hand away from my knee. I avert my gaze from his down to the spot where I can still feel the warmth of his skin on mine.
“The day we got married, I came back here, and told my dad about us like I promised you I would. But it didn’t go as we’d hoped. He was pissed off, started saying shit I had no idea about. All this time I thought we were just a club... a group of people who liked to ride. I never knew the bullshit that really went down around here. The drugs. Any of it.”
He lets out a frustrated breath.
“He told me everything. Believe me, I was shocked as fuck. He had been lying to me for fucking years, leading me to believe he was legit. At the time I was blinded to it all. My mind was obsessed with you and me, with trying to find a way for us to be together in spite of the hatred our fathers had for one another. It wasn’t until after you were gone and my dad brought me in that I realized our parents were right all along. They were only trying to protect you from a life neither of us knew anything about.”
I sit here like a mummy wrapped so tightly that I’m unable to move any part of my body except my eyes. Cain stares straight ahead, breathing heavily. I almost feel sorry for him.
“Before I continue, I need you to tell me you believe me. When we were together I had no idea the kind of shit my dad was involved in. The entire club was a farce. He lied to me, too. Do you believe me?”
Tense silence fills the room until slowly my ire subsides. Cain never wanted this life for himself, he was born into it, and had obviously been trained to lead this club before his dad was killed.
Something you learn in law school is that when you study a person to distinguish whether they are lying or telling the truth, their voice is as telling as their face. Analyzing Cain right now, my gut instinct says he is speaking the truth.
My heart, on the other hand, wants to curl up and die. To stop beating. Losing him was by far the most traumatizing experience of my life. I felt meaningless without him. I wouldn’t wish that kind of pain on my worst enemy. To top it all off, my parents knew? They knew this entire time and never once told me?
“I’m not sure if I believe you or not,” I say slowly. “That’s the best I’ve got for you right now. My mind is trying to absorb a lot here.”
I really don’t know if I believe him or not. What I do know is that my words must mollify him until I figure it out. I indicate with my hand for him to continue with his story.
“My dad told me I had to do whatever it would take to get you to stay away from me. He was being threatened Calla, by dangerous men. A rival MC called the Savages. We’re not talking your everyday ‘I’m going to kick your ass’ threats. We’re talking blood and murder. He tried to keep it from me, but they started threatening to get me, too.”
Cain hangs his head for a moment before looking back up at me.
“I can’t take back what I did, but at the time, I believed my father and understood that as my wife, your life was in danger, too. By the time I walked out of his office, I had less than fifteen minutes before you were supposed to be here. That’s when I saw Emerald. I knew the only way I could get you to walk away from me was by letting you see me with her.”
Whatever pain I went through, he went through it, too. His language, his posture, and the way he won’t look at me when he’s telling me this shows me enough to believe him. Our pain was shared, yet he chose to distance himself from me instead of fighting for our love, our four-hour marriage. Words to honor and protect spoken right before he screwed another woman.
“I believe you,” I tell him softly, which gets his attention. He turns to me with a wary smile on his lips, which fades at my next words.
“But... I don’t think I will ever forgive you. I just can’t wrap my head around any of it. You didn’t love me enough to fight for me. To tell your father to go to hell. To jump on your motorcycle and come and get me. You threw me away like the two years we spent together meant nothing to you. There isn’t a person in this entire world who deserved to see what I saw, to have that kind of pain to deal with. I never saw it coming. I’m beyond all that pain now. I’m coping. I have a life of my own now.”
He remains stoic for several long beats before speaking again.
“I can’t let you leave here, Calla. There’s too much danger out there for me to let you go.”
His words trigger more frustration. Standing, I lash out with the little bit of self-worth I have left.
“You can’t make me stay here. What part of that don’t you understand? My God, I said I believed you. We can both move on and chalk this up as the one big mistake we will make in our lives. You can settle down with Emerald or God knows who and have little motorcycle riding, gun shooting fucking babies for all I care.”
I don’t have the will to be strong any longer. Everything is too much all at once. Seeing him again after all this time, noting all the changes in his body that make him even hotter now than he was even then, has made me feel the loss of every one of those six years that have gone by. My limp body sags to the floor and I cry. I cry because it’s killing me to be in this room. I cry because the man I once loved is so damn close to me, and he’s not mine anymore.
I don’t know how much time passes, but somehow I pull myself together, lift my wet face off of the carpet, and meet the eyes of the man who betrayed me.
“You’re a heartless bastard!” I scream.
“That I am. But not when it comes to you. When it comes to you, my heart beats. It fucking beats so damn fast you have no idea. Now look, I know you’re confused. Your world is suddenly fucked up. But I swear to you, if I let you leave here, you won’t make it a mile down that road before someone either takes you or puts a goddamned bullet between your gorgeous eyes. This isn’t a fucking joke. It’s not up for discussion. Until I fix this war with the Savages my father got this club into, you will stay here.”
I arch an eyebrow at him.
“The Savages, huh? You’re the one who chose this life, not me. So why would someone want to put a bullet through my head?”
Instead of answering, he scowls.
“Jesus Christ. The less you know, the fucking safer you are.”
I lift my hands up and shove my hair out of my face, letting out a bitter laugh as I do. This is crazy. I came here for a simple divorce, one I was sure would come easily, and now I find myself being held prisoner for reasons unknown to me. I mean, come on. How much crazier can this shit get?
“Not sure what you find funny about this whole thing, babe. Care to share?”
I look at him in mock astonishment.
“You don’t find this funny? After six years I finally decide I want my freedom from a marriage that was wrecked before it even got started. I came here expecting to get just that and now I’ve been told that my husband fucked some slut on my wedding day to protect me. Then he disappears for God knows how long, comes back here and runs some gun smuggling, illegal biker club, knowing where I’ve been the entire time. And now he’s going to kidnap me to save my life? I’m sorry, but I find this to be quite comical.”
Scooching my back up against the wall, I reach for my shoes and slip them on my feet.
“I’m leaving.”
I turn on my heel preparing to walk right out of there when his hands grasp me around my waist from behind. I let out a scream as I’m hauled backwards with my damn feet dragging on the floor.
“Son of a motherfucker! Do you want me to tie your gutsy ass up?” he barks, tossing me face-first onto the bed.
I begin to kick. He growls when one of my pointy-toed shoes connects with some part of his body. His strong hands grasp me by both of my ankles as he manhandles me to the edge of the bed.
“Cain, this is kidnapping. I’m done playing games. Let me go!” I demand.
“Fuck it. I tried being nice. To treat you kindly. You leave me no other choice.”
In a flash, he flips me over and his full weight crashes down on top of me, pinning me down with both his hands and his stare. I suck in a very much needed breath. My traitorous body heats up when I feel his erection press into me and the arrogant prick knows it. He smirks, insistent on making sure the hardest part of his body is pressed against the now wettest part of mine.
“Do you remember the first time we fucked? How you screamed my name so damn loud when I tasted your virgin pussy for the first time? When I popped your tight fucking cherry?”
He is like a supernatural shape shifter changing from good to evil. Suddenly, the weak woman I became a few moments ago returns and I simply lie there, appalled by his words.
“Let’s clear this shit up right now,” he says harshly. “You are not leaving here. You will shut your fucking mouth. This isn’t high school or college or even fucking Disney World. This is my club, my house, and my goddamned rules. You will stay in my house, you will do what I say, and you will sleep in my fucking bed. When I decide to fill you in on more, I will, but until I do, you will stay right the fuck here! Now, do I make myself clear? Because I’ve got shit to do, and even though this was a pleasant surprise, I was in the middle of a meeting I need to finish.”
He shoves himself off of me, his look lethal and downright chilling.
“Stay,” he commands, pointing his finger at me like a dog. “And let’s get the record straight. We are not a gang. This is a club and a damn bar. We don’t do drugs. Never have, never will.”
With that, he turns and strides out of the room, slamming the door behind him. Just like that, he’s gone. And me?
I’m trapped.
Chapter Four
Cain
“Motherfucking cock sucking son of a motherfucking bitch!”
I’m an asshole. She’s here. The one person in my life that I love is here, and I just treated her like a piece of shit under my shoe.
As much as I might regret the way I dealt with her, for her own protection, she will have to do what I say and talk only when necessary for as long as she’s here, which for her will be like pulling her own damn teeth. The Calla I know would never keep her mouth shut. I’m fucked either way I look at it, but she’s safe here and for now that’s what matters to me the most.
She’s even more strikingly gorgeous than I remember. I’ve seen over a thousand pictures of her over the years, and not a damn one of them compares to seeing her in person.
Her hair, though. My God, that hair. The thick mass used to be curly, the long locks hanging down the middle of her back. But now? Fuck. It’s sleek and straight, sitting just a few inches above the curve of her ass.
Her ass, which was right in my face when I slung her over my shoulder. My cock is still hard thinking about the way her skirt hugged that plump, firm, and shapely backside that connects to the longest pair of legs I have ever seen.
And her tits. Fuck me with those, too. They’ve grown. My woman always had a nice rack, but now I could look at them for days... fondle them for hours and suck on them for the rest of my life.
My fingers twitch thinking about the way they would feel in the palms of my hands.
And her pussy. I have never forgotten how incredible she feels. I know for a fact how pink, wet, and tight it is. I can picture her smooth mound, the way it tastes. The way her muscles clenched my cock. Clutching. Squeezing tightly, as if she never wanted me to come out. I never wanted to. I could live inside her forever.
My beautiful wife doesn’t have any clue as to the lengths I’ve gone to in order to keep tabs on her all these years. I know her every move; her monthly visits to the day spa where she treats herself. Her school schedule. Her friends. I know every damn thing. Hell, I went as far as assigning my friend Manny as her personal bodyguard. Sick fucker that I am, there were several times I had him set up video in her room just so I could watch her sleep, and listen to the soft sounds of her breathing.
It’s not just her body that first caught my attention all those years ago. It was her brains. She’s brilliant. Queen of her own mind. She was never afraid to speak it, to say how she felt. And here I am crushing her as if she’s the one who hurt me, when it’s the other way around. I’ve single-handedly destroyed my marriage and my life, all for this fucking club. I hate it and everything it stands for.
The Sinners is not the same as it was when my father was alive. We no longer do anything illegal. All right, that’s not entirely true. They don’t do anything illegal. For me, this club is a front for the shit I do. It sure as hell isn’t drugs, as Calla obviously thinks. Drugs can fuck you up. You start selling that shit and the next damn thing you know, you’re fucking using it. Hooked. No fucking way do I want any of that shit around here; the things I do are bad enough.
For the record, I recognize my own hypocrisy regarding the law. I wanted to be on the good side of the law my entire life. My dad went and screwed it all the hell up for me by lying.
We’re just a group of people who like to get together and have a good time for the love of our bikes, son.
Liar. If not for his lies, everything could be different right now. I could be inside that house making love to my wife. Be a cop like I wanted to be. Instead, his death left me with no choice but to try to clean up the brewing pot of shit-stew he created. That’s entirely not true, either. I was given a choice of doing right or wrong, and I chose wrong. But to me, I chose wrong for the right reasons.
Here’s where the problem lies. I turned this place around, into what I wanted it to be; a clean-cut bar, the way it should have been all along. We’re legit. Everyone has well respected jobs. Families. The whole nine yards. One man left when we found out he was dealing, and he’s the piece of shit who killed my father and Darcy to get back at me, all because I shut his shit down.
When I found out Kryder Banks was into dealing, we came down hard. He and his entourage of drugged-out coke and heroin addicts broke the fucking law every damn time they left here, selling to little kids, or moms who should have been using that money to feed and shelter those kids.
Kryder was given the choice to either back the hell off, or leave. He chose the latter. Went in with the Savages, or so I thought. He had been a member of that club for years and brought that shit in here. Now that lying son of a bitch is one of the biggest drug dealers in the Midwest. Or he was, until the pussy ass disappeared.
Bringing myself to a halt, I look back at my old house; the house I haven’t stepped foot in for several years. I wonder to my asshole self why I even brought Calla there. Why I left her in a room where the last time she saw me I was balls deep inside of Emerald.
Little does she know, I did it to save her life. Save her from this shit that surrounds me. I’m a bastard for doing that to her, and I’m an even worse bastard for telling her half the crap I told her and then storming out like I did. I’m completely fucking this up with her. The best thing I can do is stay as far away from her as I can, finish this meeting, and get lost in a bottle of whiskey.
Fuck me, I wish I could get lost in her right now. I wish I could take us far away from here and start the hell over.
I just need some space and time to think.
I wasn’t expecting her to come here today. I knew she would one day, but why the fuck didn’t Manny give me the heads up that she was headed here? Fuck, I ought to beat his damn ass!
I won’t, though. He’s one of a handful of people I trust. The one person who has kept my wife safe all these years while I’ve pretended to be a man I’m not. I almost gave myself up to her a few minutes ago when she sat on my floor and cried. And then I went and fucked things up even more by tainting the one night in my life I will never forget; the night we lost our virginity to each other.
It kills me to see the pain in her eyes that she’s trying so damn hard to hide. She’s changed, but no matter how hard she denies her feelings for me, I know she still cares. I know she still loves me in spite of all that bullshit about wanting a divorce so she can move on. Fuck. The truth is, she’s not mine anymore. But God, how I want her to be.
My emotions are normally well hidden under my dark exterior. Being a brutal son of a bitch does not permit me to be liked or loved; it gets me feared. They say I’m ruthless, a man who takes what he wants and stops at nothing. A take-no-prisoners kind of man. And if you cross me, my fists become my weapons of choice.
I’ve got so many sins on my hands. Murder is not one of them, but I would do it for her if I had to. I would do anything to keep her safe.
I don’t give a shit about anyone except about the woman who I want nothing more than to give this all up for. She’s my weakness; the one person who could cure my soul, the only one who can bring me to my knees and get my head spinning out of control. It’s going to take my balls to turn into brass to be a prick to her again. To make her think I don’t care when all I want to do is bring her into my arms. Tell her I never once stopped loving her.
Damn it! My chest explodes with rage. I fucking can’t do it. She needs to think I’ve gone bad.
I’m still trying to figure out who is the mole in this club. Everyone around here knows I’m married. They were all sworn to keep their damn mouths shut or suffer the consequences of my wrath, but someone talked. That’s why Manny was sent off to Canada to take care of her. This shit is so deep that I wanted to keep my wife as far away from it as possible.
Now that she is here by my side, I need to stick to my master plan of finding the assholes who killed my father, starting with Kryder Banks. He knows I’m after his piece of shit ass. Ever since word got out about Calla, he’s been lying low, keeping his whereabouts a secret while he has his parasites do all of his dirty work.
Even though every part of me wants to go back and take my wife in my arms, I have shit to get done. Turning around, I take about five steps before I see Emerald stalking my way with a determined look on her face. I need to end this shit with her here and now.
She’s been nothing but a means to an end for me for years. All she has ever been to me was a quick release for my dick, and she knows it. The pitiful bitch has been begging me to let her ride on the back of my bike, to officially make her mine. Little does she know that I know what the cunt does when I’m not around... she’s on her back or on her knees for Coon.
I laugh at the nickname we gave him. Coon Dog. All he likes to do is fuck doggy style, and doesn’t give two shits if someone watches him do it, either. He’s into that kind of exhibitionist shit. This is how I know he’s been screwing around with Emerald. Don’t care either. He can have her. That bitch screams louder than a banshee when she’s being fucked. Good thing I tune her ass out. Every woman I’ve been with, I tune them out and pretend I’m inside Calla.
These bitches around here have been fucked by so many hen-pecked pussy-whipped sons of bitches it isn’t even funny anymore. I have never fucked another woman bareback. Never gone down on another woman, either. None of them have sucked my cock, and I sure as hell won’t kiss them.
Emerald gets close enough to reach out and try to touch me.
“Come on, Cain. Talk to me, please.”
“Go home. Get out of here, NOW!”
I make it to my office, settling into my chair to discuss business when my VP Beamer walks in, all six foot seven of him lean and tatted up muscle. Those tats look damn good on him; they fit his badass persona to a tee. Me, on the other hand? I have one tattoo, in a spot no one has seen except me and the man who put it there. I never had the desire to mark myself with one unless it meant something to me. This one means every damn thing to me.
Call me crazy for marking my dick with a tattoo. I don’t give a shit. It’s never been a problem to keep it from any of the women I’ve screwed. None of them touches my dick, sucks it, or looks at it. I get straight down to fucking and then kick their asses out the minute I get my balls off.
“You got news for me, brother?” I ask Beam, while pulling out a bottle of Johnny Walker Blue Label and two shot glasses. I set them down on my desk and glare at my friend.
“Nothing, man. No one’s talking. It’s like he disappeared.” He shrugs. “You know me, I’ll keep digging. Someone’s bound to talk.”
His eyebrows shoot up when he notices the two shot glasses.
“You know I’m not drinking that shit, right?” he smirks, then reaches into his back pocket and pulls out a small pint of his cheap Jim Beam.
And there you have why we call him Beamer. I shove a glass across my desk at him.
“Best shit in the world right here,” I say as I crack open my bottle, take a deep sniff, and pour my shot. Beam does the same with his.
“Cheers, man.”
Both of us suck down our favorite drink like it’s water. This type of stuff should be sipped and savored. Not with me. I love the ever-so-gratifying feeling of the burn as it makes its way down my throat, settling into my stomach. I need to get shit-faced, forget about today, and worry about tomorrow when I wake my ass up.
“I heard about Calla coming here,” Beam says with concern.
“Yeah, man. She’s here,” I reply brusquely.
“And?”
“And what?”
“How’d it go?”
“She wants a divorce. I’m not giving her one. I’ve waited way too long, wasted six years that I could have spent with her. She’ll never get me to sign. She’s in my old house. Until we kill that rat bastard who gutted my dad and threatened her life, she stays here.”
He doesn’t need to know any more than that, so I quickly change the subject. I grab my bottle of Jack and head towards the door with Beam, intent on getting drunk. The minute I walk out the door and head towards the event in the back, I roll my eyes.
Emerald strides towards me the minute I’m out the door, circling around beside me. She loops her arm through mine as if she owns me. I want to rip my skin off when her fingertips graze down my arm. I grind my teeth like crazy at her audacity. She knows not to touch me unless she is told.
“Jesus, woman. Get your hands off of me,” I growl, jerking myself free. “I thought I told you to leave. You’re not wanted here, Emerald.”
The minute I plop down in my chair she sits on my lap, which pisses me off.
“Come on. What the hell?”
My best friend Manny shakes his head from across the yard as I try to dislodge her. Yeah, screw you too, asshole. I flip him the middle finger. Dickhead knows I’m going to go postal on his ass the first chance I get for not giving me the heads up that Calla was on her way.
“Jesus, Emerald. What the hell?”
I grab her arm and pull her back into the compound, heading straight for my office. Her smile widens across her face. I know what she’s thinking. She thinks I’m going to fuck her back here and everything is going to be fine. She couldn’t be more wrong. I’m about to set this bitch straight.
