Page 25 of Cain

Leaving me looking dumbfounded like the idiot I am.

After everything that happened today, I thought his attitude toward me had changed. At least, it seemed like it had, right? There was the whole shower thing, and he seemed so different afterward. I knew I should have listened to my gut. It seemed so weird that he was suddenly all over me and so nice in a way that seemed too good to be true. It was completely out of character for a man like Cain, and I should have realized that.

“You good?” I look over to see Zeke and Hash watching me closely as I pick at my burger that Dell had just dropped off before taking Cain’s to the office or wherever the hell he went I guess. So much for taking me to get food. I guess I thought that meant we would actually eat together.

“Yeah, I’m alright. This is all just a bit overwhelming. You know I barely leave my house. Sitting in a packed bar on a Friday night isn’t exactly the norm for me,” I reply, hoping he doesn’t catch on to my lie. Small fib, if you will. I mean, it’s half the truth. I really don’t get out much, and large crowds give me a shit ton of anxiety, but really, I’m mostly sad about the change in Cain.

He seemed to accept my answer, though, because he nods his head before turning back toward the band.

You know what? Fuck Cain. Fuck him and the high horse he walked in on. I can’t believe he just left me here like this. And I can’t believe I let that piece of shit shave and finger fuck me. And then that motherfucker has the audacity to bring it up in front of everyone. I know they don’t literally know, but it’s still fucking embarrassing.

Reaching into my pocket, I pull out a fifty, which should be more than enough to cover my food, drinks, and tip. I throw it down on the table. “I’m going to head out.”

“Don’t think that’s a good idea, darlin’,” Hash says, shaking his head as he brings his drink to his mouth.

“And why not?” I snap.

“Prez wants us to keep an eye on ya. He would have our ass if he found out we just let ya leave.”

“Well, boys, this clearly seems to be a foreign concept to you, but I don’t need a keeper.”

“Come on, Ev. Just wait for Prez to finish, and he’ll take you home,” Zeke pleads, knowing I’m not one to be told what to do. All of these men in my life can just fuck off.

“Fine. I need to use the restroom,” I say before I slide out of the booth without waiting for a response.

Praying there’s a back door I can slip out of, I duck into the bathroom on my way in that direction, just in case they’re both watching me. I quickly check my social media profile to buy some time and make it look like I’m actually using the bathroom. After a few minutes, I quietly open the creaky bathroom door, looking both ways to make sure I don’t see a face I know, and I put my plan into motion.

“Ah ha!” I cheer to myself as I spot the backdoor that I was hoping would be there. Quickly walking out and heading in that direction, I pass a closed door that I assume is Cain’s office.

“Jokes on you fucker.” I flip off the door before pushing the backdoor open, the cool nighttime air calming my flushed skin. I laugh at the thought of him possibly having to ride bitch on the back of one of the guys’ bikes since we drove my car here.

Walking around the back of the building, I pass two different couples fucking up against the wall, both watching the other. I know it’s rude to stare, but I can’t seem to look away. I always thought it would be hot as hell to have someone watch. I never found that person with whom I felt comfortable enough to do that with, though. But do I need comfort? I let some guy I’ve only known a week finger fuck me while he shaved my pussy in the shower. I think comfort might not be needed.

One of the girls’ moans is getting higher and more breathy, but I can’t stay for the finale. I can’t risk the guys realizing I’m not coming back. But I’ll be damned if I let some guy like Cain yank me around like I’m on a chain. I’m not a fucking dog. I won’t be waiting for you to tell me to come when the mood strikes. Figuratively and literally.

Beeping the locks on my car, I slide into the driver's seat and fire her up, hoping I can make it home before they notice I left. It isn’t until I’m parked in my driveway that I come to the conclusion that I might have fucked up.

How do I know I fucked up? Because my headlights are shining on my front door. My front door that is currently ajar. I rarely use that door. I can’t even remember the last time it was open. It’s basically a decoration piece at this point.

“Okay. Okay,” I whisper to myself. Do I call the cops? I don’t really want to wait if it’s nothing. I should call Zeke, but I kind of ruined that one by sneaking out. “It’s okay. I’m a grown-ass woman. I got this,” I tell myself. I need to check on Hades anyway.

Oh my fucking god! Hades!

I quickly grab the switchblade I keep in my glove box before throwing my car door open and rushing up to the door.

Wait.

I probably shouldn’t just bust in here balls to the wall, right? I mean, what if the psychopath that broke in is still inside?

“Please don’t let this be how I die,” I whisper to myself before slowly pushing open the door enough that I can quietly slip through. I’ve seen enough crime documentaries to know it’s a very real possibility that this is how I’ll go.

Looking around, I don’t see anything out of place except for the dirt tracked in by whoever broke in.

How fucking rude. You’re going to break into my house and get it dirty?

I slide along the entryway wall in stealth mode until I can peek around and look into the kitchen like a lurking cat.

All clear there.

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