Page 64 of Cain

“Your bath, hellcat. Did you get to relax?”

“Oh. Yeah, I mean as much as I could. Your bathroom is nicer than I expected.”

A laugh bursts out of me. I’ve never laughed so much in my goddamn life until she came into it. “What did you expect it to look like?”

She looks sheepish now as she shrugs a shoulder. “I don’t know… dirty? Like your typical biker bar bathroom but in your personal room.”

I can tell she isn’t trying to offend me, and I’m not. I get it. Bikers are known for living life in the moment and partying our asses off. Plus, I’ve seen Trick’s bathroom, and it’s exactly what she pictured mine to look like. “I like my space clean, babe. Guys that want to be one of us and girls that want to get with one of us are constantly coming and going. This is the one space that’s mine, so I try to take care of it. Can’t promise you it will always look like that.” Now, it’s my turn to look a little sheepish as I climb onto the bed next to her. “I may have had a prospect quickly clean it before you came.”

“Trying to impress me?” She quirks an eyebrow up, tone teasing.

“Maybe.”

“Don’t make poor Levi clean it. I’ll do it.”

“That’s part of the job, hellcat. He knows the score.”

She lets out a long sigh like she’s accepting defeat. “The aromatherapy bubble bath that you, I mean a prospect,” she pauses to smirk, “got me really helped. It’s my favorite. The scent just makes your head feel so clear. Thank you again,” Evan says softly before resting her head on my shoulder. I just got my arm around her when she asks her next question.

“Why are you avoiding my question?”

I should have known that she wasn’t going to let this lie.

Sighing, I rub my hand up and down her arm. “You know I can’t tell you much, babe. But I will tell you that he was the one that broke into your place.”

“That motherfucker,” she hisses, shooting up straight. “Can I have a minute alone with him?”

“Absolutely fucking not.”

“But—”

“No,” I cut her off. “I know you want your time with him to rip him a new asshole, and I promise that you’ll get it. Just not right now. There’s still some shit that we’re trying to piece together, and I don’t want his hands on you again.” I don’t even want him breathing her air.

“I don’t have to like what you’re saying, but I get it,” Evan says reluctantly. She makes the perfect old lady. She has a spine of her own and doesn’t shovel anyone’s shit, mine included, but at the end of the day still lets me lead.

I tuck her head under my chin, coaxing her to relax before continuing. “Storm was greedy, hellcat. Fuck, still is greedy.”

“What do you mean?” she asks, tensing up.

“He felt like he was owed more of your business than just the cut you were giving him. And he didn't tell me this, but it was just a vibe I picked up on, but I think he wanted to take over completely and be the boss of the whole operation.”

Evan has fallen silent to the point where the only noise in the room that can be heard is the true crime documentary she has playing on the TV. Fuck. Just when I get her to relax, I stress her out all over again. I wonder if you can buy those bath dicks in bulk. If the brothers found those, though, I’d be done. I don’t know how I would recover from having a bunch of dicks in my bathroom.

“Ugh. I guess that doesn’t really surprise me,” Evan says, breaking the silence.

“Why do you say that?”

“I don’t know. The last few times, he kept asking for more and more product each time. I didn’t think anything of it because it had always been the same amount since we started, and I assumed stuff was picking up. And I mean, who doesn’t want more money?”

Can’t fault her for that logic. I haven’t met a single person outside of the club who’s actually content with their cash flow. No matter how rich you are, there will always be something you can’t afford that makes you strive to get it.

“But since everything has happened, it does seem… greedy.” She facepalms her head. “God. I feel like such a fucking idiot for not seeing the signs sooner.”

“No,” I say, pulling her hand away. “None of this is your fault, so don’t blame yourself. What did I tell you earlier?”

“That you’re going to take care of it.”

“Good girl,” I rumble. “Daddy’s going to take care of it.”

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