Page 59 of Cain

“Yeah, I’m okay,” I say shakily, looking up at Cain’s face, trying to see where his head is, but his eyes aren’t on me. They’re glued to the bruise that is already starting to form on my arm.

“He’s going to pay for that,” he grinds out before storming off to where Zeke has Storm pinned.

“This is for thinking you can breathe my woman’s air.” Cain kicks his steel-toed boot out, nailing Storm right in the ribs. “And this for putting your fucking hands on what’s mine.” Cain smashes his boot down on the hand Storm grabbed me with. I grin as I hear the crunch of bones. The sound is oddly satisfying.

“Hash! Cyrus!” Cain yells, and the guys come out of the woods looking just as blood-thirsty as Zeke did. “Take him to the clubhouse. You know where I want him.”

Hash ties Storm’s wrists together while Cyrus ties his ankles before they both grab their respective ends, lifting him up and carrying him back into the woods without a word. Well, without a word from them. Storm, on the other hand, is crying like the little bitch he is.

Cain isn’t done giving orders because the next thing I know, he’s calling for Ink and Trick. “Take care of this piece of shit and meet me back at the clubhouse.” He motions to Storm’s car. “He won’t be needing it any time soon.”

Sensing Cain needs some sort of confirmation that I’m okay, I wrap my arms around him. “I’m okay, babe. He didn’t hurt me.”

“Evangeline, he fucking marked you,” he hisses out, pointing at the bruise on my arm. “That is not okay.”

I know he’s upset when he uses my full first name. “I bruise easily, Cain. You, of all people, know how pale I am. It’s what fair skin does.” I try my best to reassure him, but I don’t think that it’s working.

“He’s going to pay for that,” Cain growls before calling to Zeke. “Let’s head back. Get a head start on this while Ink and Trick deal with the car.”

My worried gaze meets Zeke’s as he walks by. I’m looking for reassurance that shit isn’t going to be crazy with this, but I find the opposite of what I’m looking for. “He had it coming, Evan. You don’t need to worry about it anymore.”

“I want you back at the clubhouse, where I can have eyes on you at all times,” Cain cuts in.

“Is that really necessary?” I roll my eyes. “I’ll be fine here. He can’t do anything to me when he’s at the clubhouse.”

“Until I know exactly what the fuck is going on and what we’re dealing with, you’ll have eyes on you. I’m done arguing about this,” Cain says before walking off in the same direction as Zeke without looking back.

He clearly needs a minute to calm down, and if I’m being honest, I need the same. So, I take extra time packing an overnight bag, making sure to pack a few nights’ worth of clothes because I have no idea how long this will take. Once I have all of my toiletries and clothes in a bag, I grab another bag out of the closet to pack Hades’ stuff.

Yes, my baby needs his fuzzy blanket and toys, too. Not to mention food.

With a sigh, I load up my car, get Hades into the back, and head to the clubhouse.

Chapter Thirty-Seven

CAIN

I’ve always been one to stand by the rule of never hurting a woman. I always thought the guys that did deserve every fucked-up thing they had coming to them. And I would be first one in line to do it. But seeing a guy put his hands on my woman? It’s a whole different level of ‘I’m going to fucking kill you.’ All I want to do right now is take my knife, slowly shove it into each eyeball, and feed them to Hades.

But first, he has a lot of questions to answer. “Is he in the basement?” I ask Hash as I enter the clubhouse.

“Yeah. Cyrus and Scotch are uh… watching him.” I don’t hear any screaming, so he must still be alive.

“As long as he can still talk, Cyrus can watch him all he wants.”

Cyrus, like Scotch, can become a little unhinged. That’s why I made them enforcers. They’ve never met a man that they couldn’t make talk, and because of that, they have gained a… reputation that must be maintained.

“Last I was down there, all fingers were still intact,” Hash calls to my back.

I let out a laugh before I swing open the basement door and head down the steps. “That’s a first,” I call back.

“You’re just in time for the party, Prez.” Cyrus smirks from his chair as I slam my boot down on the last step. He’s leaned back in the corner across from Storm, who is now tied down to a chair. Ropes strap down both of his wrists to each arm of the chair, ankles secured to the legs, and there’s tape over his mouth. “Had to tape his mouth shut. Hadn’t even touched him, and he wouldn’t stop screaming like a little bitch. Can’t wait to hear what a real scream will sound like out of him.”

I slowly cross the distance between the end of the stairs and where Storm is before I rip the tape off his mouth. He didn’t even see it coming, letting out a loud grunt in the process.

“Look. I don’t know what this is about bu—” Storm starts to say while catching his breath before I cut him off.

“You don’t know what this is about?” My tone sounds scary even to me. I heard Cyrus slide to the edge of his seat, no longer relaxed. He’s more anxious to let out the release he’s been looking for. “You thought it was okay to put your hands on a woman. My woman. That’s what this is about, you piece of shit.”

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