Page 5 of Cain

A small part of me isn’t ready to introduce her to the club. The brothers will be all over her, and the thought of one of them even laying a hand on her makes me want to cut their finger off and shove it up their ass. And that’s not like me. Fuck. She looks way too young for me, too. Basically a baby.

“Fuck me,” I mumble as I rub my hands down my face.

Chapter Seven

EVAN

I can feel eyes on me as I fucking floor it, tires screeching as I peel out of their compound. My baby can pack a punch when I need her to. Caressing the dash, I head back to my little fortress of solitude. I’m a little put off that it’s right next door. I mean, obviously, there's property between us, but it still doesn’t feel like enough space. I know how my brain works. I’m going to constantly wonder what’s going on over there now that I know it’s there.

I finally let out a sigh of relief when I see my dark beauty come into view. There is just something about this house that chills me the fuck out. I think that’s how I knew this would be home. When I first viewed it with the realtor, the state it was left in didn’t phase me. I still have a long way to go before she’s restored to her original glory. When I first bought the place, I put all of my spare cash into building a large barn in the backyard to hold my plant babies. The same ones Zeke wants me to use to help out his club.

Sometimes, it feels like whenever I take five steps forward, I get knocked back ten. I know he would never let any of the repercussions touch me, but the lingering fear is still there. I learned very early in life that nothing is guaranteed or will ever be as it seems.

And there are obviously other parties involved that they aren’t saying, right? I got the vibe that the asshole didn’t want me to know who else was involved. He almost slipped up, though. The last thing I need is for one of them to break in and murder me in my sleep. One thing I do know is that all of this shit calls for some comfort food.

Flipping the switch on in my kitchen with Hades on my heels, I decide on queso. Who doesn’t love a good cheese dip? My lactose-intolerant ass will be paying for it later, but that’s tomorrow’s (let’s be honest, more like in an hour) problem.

I rescued Hades almost three years ago. I couldn’t even tell you what possessed me to wander into the animal shelter at the time, but as soon as I locked eyes with the saddest pair I had ever seen, I knew I had to take him.

Hades was a severely underweight cane corso who still seemed too big for the cage they were keeping him in. Fate sealed the deal when the lady working at the shelter told me he was on sale for $125, which was exactly how much cash I had in my pocket.

Settling in on the Ikea couch I got as a placeholder, while I’m figuring out my colors and stuff, legs on top of Hades, and queso resting on my lap, I ponder over everything with each bite.

I know Zeke wouldn’t have even involved me if this wasn't necessary. Plus, I’ve been trying to find a way for years to even slightly pay him back. He’s done so much for me in the past. This could finally be my way to do that.

Would he accept it as that? Probably not.

And let’s not forget about the panty-scorching asshole.

Honest to god, my kitty tingled every time that man talked. Why are all the hot ones mega fucking dicks? Also, way out of my league. I wouldn’t even know what to do if I got my hands on someone like him. It’s been longer than I’m comfortable admitting since my kitty got some cream. What few exes I’ve had were the complete opposite of him. They’d rather spend their Friday night in front of a video game instead of between a random chick's legs.

I sigh, thinking about what it would feel like to have his beard brush against the inside of my thighs. Would it tickle? Or would it be just rough enough to leave a little scratch on the way up to suck on my clit.

No.

Absolutely not. We are not going there.

“Snap the fuck out of it, girl,” I tell myself. He’s an asshole, and you’ve sworn off all men for good.

Damn Zeke for having attractive friends.

Rolling over in bed, I hear a long groan that isn’t coming from me.

Fucking Hades.

The man is a diva and definitely not a morning person. “I know, sweet baby. It’s really early for us, but mommy has things to take care of,” I coo at him while scratching that spot he likes right behind his ear—things that involve keeping a certain MC off my back. “Oh, is that the spot?” Hades' leg starts moving quickly up and down.

Throwing the fluffy teal duvet off, I grumble as my feet land on the scratchy wood floor. They need to be refinished badly, but one girl only has so much time, and honestly, DIY videos make things look way too fucking easy. I swear everything takes me five times as long as the person filming.

I slip on what I call my “dirty whore” leggings and a baggy t-shirt before heading out to the barn with a grumpy Hades trailing behind.

Sometimes, I think I’m hilarious with what I come up with. A few of my leggings have a bunch of holes, slits, rips, you name it all over them from working in the barn. Some of them happen to be right up by my coochy, but you need to be at just the right angle to see that.

The first thing I do when I enter the barn is turn on music. Zeke thinks I’m nuts, but I firmly believe that plants grow better with some kick-ass tunes. No one can tell me otherwise. It’s all about creating the perfect growing environment.

A sigh escapes me as I look around at everything I have. I’m going to need a decent amount of time to come up with what they need.

Time I’m not sure they have.

---