Page 55 of Cain

“Yeah, I am.” I run my hands down his hard, muscular thighs, massaging as I go.

“Good.” He rumbles as his thighs flex under my hands. “I want to know about you and Scotch.”

I try not to tense at the question but fail miserably. “What do you want to know? Or, I guess, how much do you know?” I knew this was coming. He deserves to know my past. I guess in this moment, I just feel so raw and exposed. Like he can see right into my soul.

“I know you and him met in a foster home, but beyond that, he hasn’t really said much. I don’t want to dig if you’re not willing, so if you’re not ready to share that with me, then we’ll wait to cross that bridge.”

“I’m ready to share.” I’m feeling very mellow right now. If he asked for anything in this moment, I would probably do it.

He gives me a reassuring squeeze on the back of my neck before I continue. “I never knew my parents. Well, I never knew my dad. My mom was an addict who didn’t want to give it up, so she gave me up instead. I was so young when it happened. It seems like a lifetime ago. I honestly barely remember her.”

“I’m sorry you had to go through that, baby,” Cain says as he lightly kisses the top of my head. “How old were you?”

“I was almost 7, and please don’t be sorry. Some people just don’t want to be parents, and that’s okay. That part doesn’t really bother me anymore. I mean, do I wish I had a mom? Yeah. But as fucked up as this is to say, I think my life would have been way worse if she would have kept me. And I wouldn’t have met Zeke.”

“I’m glad you found him, babe.” Cain pauses. “I hate to admit this, but at first, I was jealous of the relationship the two of you had. That’s why I barged into his room that night at the clubhouse. I thought something was going on.”

Of course that’s what he thought. I can’t tell you how many times this has happened with the girls Zeke dated. They always thought I was fucking him on the side. “No.” I let out a light laugh. “It’s cute you were jealous, though.”

“I wasn’t that jealous,” he grumbles, like he’s annoyed he even was in the first place.

I smirk to myself. “Alright, Mr. No Strings Attached. You weren’t jealous.” I give his thigh a squeeze. “Zeke is the closest thing I have to a brother. I never have or will ever think of him in a sexual way. The thought makes me want to vomit. I saw his bare ass once when I walked in on him and a girl in the living room. Every time I closed my eyes, all I saw was his zitty ass. It scarred me for life.” I shudder at the thought.

Cain lets out a laugh before he places a kiss on my neck, letting me know that he heard me.

“We met when I was in my fifth foster home.” I pause as Cain tenses underneath me. “It’s okay, babe. Some kids just don’t ever get adopted, and I was one of them. We just have to ride out the storm.”

“I hate that you had to ride that out by yourself.”

“I wasn’t by myself, though. Well, for a few years, I wasn’t. As I said, I met Zeke in my fifth and last foster home when I was 12 and he was 16. There were four other kids in the same home besides us. Richard and Mary were your stereotypical ‘I’m doing this for the paycheck and not to better a kid’s life’ type. We didn’t exactly starve, but we went to bed hungry many nights. They did the bare minimum for us.” I let out a light laugh as I reminisce, bringing up old memories. “I remember Zeke had just gotten his first job at this little deli down the street from us. I think the owner must have known what was happening in the house because after every shift Zeke worked, he let him take home a sandwich for free. Zeke always hid it under his shirt so Richard didn’t find out, and he would split it with me.”

“Why do I get the feeling Richard was a massive dick?”

God. Only this man would be able to make me laugh while I’m trying to tell him about my fucked up childhood. “Because he was. Richard was heavy-handed with the bottle, and when he got closer to the bottom of said bottle, he became a little…handsy.”

Cain’s whole body is clenched tight as he grits out through clenched teeth, “You better not say what the fuck I think you’re about to say.”

“He didn’t rape me.”

“Then what the fuck, Evan?”

“It started out as small sexual comments here and there. He told me he liked how my shorts made my legs look long or how he could tell my boobs were growing,” I say with a wince. “Zeke was always there to tell him what a sick fuck he was being.” I’ve tried to tell myself over the years that it wasn’t that bad, but therapy really made me open my eyes. Because it was that bad. I was just trying to downplay it in my head to cope. I honestly don’t think that I would have made it through without him.

I can feel Cain opening his mouth against my neck, ready to say something, but I cut him off. “Things didn’t get really bad until I was almost 15.”

“What happened?” It sounded like it pained Cain to get those words out.

“It was the first night that Zeke was gone. He had moved out that day. I think that’s what gave Richard the courage. There was no one there that would stop him. At this point, it was only me and another younger girl left in the house. They made us leave when we turned 18. It didn’t matter if you were still in school or not. Isn’t that fucked up?” I turn to look at him.

His face is set in hard lines like he’s bracing for the worst. “Yeah. That’s fucked, babe.”

“Anyway, that night, he had been drinking. When I came home from seeing Zeke’s new apartment in Ravenna Heights, he was trashed. I remember running past him when he tried to get up from his chair to follow me, but he was so fucked up he couldn’t stand. Him saying ‘my time is coming’ is engraved in my brain.”

“Where was Mary during all of this?”

“She worked the night shift at the hospital. We honestly barely saw her. If she wasn’t working, she was sleeping the day away.”

“Gotta keep the lights on.”

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