Page 11 of Cain

No. Zeke would die protecting me before he let that happen.

Would Storm rat me out? I’d like to say I doubt it, but our business arrangement isn’t exactly legally binding.

You see, I just grow the product. But dealing? That’s a whole different ball game that I want no part of.

There are too many risks and the possibility of a deal going sideways.

So once everything is ready, Storm meets me, buys it off of me, and does god knows what with it. Oh god. Is it him?

I met Storm at a bar I worked at right out of high school. He was your typical line cook/drug dealer. I couldn’t tell you exactly how we got into business together. It kind of just happened. And when I finally had enough saved up to buy this place, it was kind of an unspoken agreement that we would expand slightly. I mean, why not? Money makes the world go round.

Hades follows me through the back door and sits in front of the fridge, waiting for his treat. I threw him his bone before quickly setting the alarm system and putting my handgun back in its designated drawer.

As I get ready for bed, all the possibilities of what could have happened to Hades and I run through my head. Hades snuggles up to my side and is out like a light, like we weren’t almost just murdered and made into someone's dinner. I envy his resilience because me?

I didn’t get any fucking sleep that night.

Chapter Twelve

CAIN

Just when I thought I was tricking my brain into getting that little hellcat out of it, I see her sweet ass strutting across the screen from one of the cameras walking into my bar.

It’s like whatever I do, I can’t escape her.

My plan was just to ignore her. The only reason I should even be conversing with her is if it involves our little arrangement. So why do I find myself slamming my office door shut and marching down to where she’s perched on a stool?

I saw the way drunk fucking Carl was staring at her, looking her up and down like he was going to have a taste whether she liked it or not. If he even so much as lays a finger on her, I’m going to snap it the fuck off.

That has me halting.

When have I ever been possessive of a woman? Fucking never.

I need to get laid or some shit.

Get my head back on straight.

That’s a conversation to have with myself another time because all I can think about is touching her smooth-looking skin. It’s all I’ve thought about since I found out Evan had a pussy. And tits. Glorious fucking tits.

I know she isn’t aware that I just walked up right behind her. We need to work on that. She should always be aware of her surroundings, whether it’s in a place she knows or not.

“Put it on my tab,” I tell Delaney before I can even process the words..

Evan’s scent must be getting to my head. The sweet smell of jasmine, gardenia, and warm woods hits my nose, and all I can think about is wanting to find out if she smells like that everywhere.

My body still has a mind of its own because before I know it, I’m whispering in her ear about how much her sass turns me on and lightly dragging my finger from the bottom of her ear down to the base of her neck. Just enough to have my fix.

I don’t even think she’s aware of the reaction her body has to me. The shudder that moves through her makes me wish we were alone so I could get a taste of that wet heat she has between those sweet thighs.

The attitude she continues to throw my way has my dick in a constant state of hardness. Normally, this wouldn’t be a problem, but it seems like the fucker only wants the sweet raven with a side of purple-haired beauty. It’s like as soon as he senses her presence, he’s back to being 15 years old all over again. Begging for just a lick of attention. Literally and figuratively. He just doesn’t know how to act around her.

Evan has quickly become a temptation I’m having a very hard time resisting.

Casting a glare towards Carl that has him inching farther away, letting him know what the fuck is up, I turn and head back toward my office. I almost made it to my door when I felt my phone vibrate in my pocket. Pulling it out, I see it’s a text from Scotch.

Call me.

Picking up on the second ring, I hear, “Hey, Prez.”

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