Page 60 of Darkness

“Tess, the scars.” Oh shit, he wasn’t joking about the need to talk part. A big talk, three words which have made my entire body tense up, and I finish the whole glass of wine.

Do I want to know about Tess, or the scars? Do I want this conversation?

I move to the couch, but grab the wine bottle on my way, and wait for Cain to start. Because if he is waiting for me to ask him a question, he’ll be waiting all night.

Cain’s hands move into his pockets, and he looks around the apartment, he’s looking anywhere but at me, and he takes a deep breath.

“I still remember the first time I saw Tess, a little girl with pigtails, and the cutest smile in the world. I told my mom that I was going to marry her. But then the universe threw me into hell.” He fell in love with Tess when they were kids, it’s a long time to love someone. Someone he wanted to marry, the love of his life, the woman he thought about every single day. She was taken away from him, and now I’m here, but am I just second best for him? Will he ever love me? He loved Tess, said the words to her, but Cain has never said those three words to me, and I have to question whether he ever will say them. Can I live like that without him telling me he loves me?

I watch him rolling up the sleeves of his shirt, as he walks around the living room, before finally sitting down.

“To tell you the entire story I have to tell you the family business.”

“The clinic?” I ask, not sure what that has to do with it.

“The business behind the clinic. My grandad started the clinic to hide the money we were getting from the actual business.” Cain walks to the kitchen and grabs the bottle of whiskey, which he’s made sure is always stocked at my place. “The Crawford family are hitmen, cleaners. If you want a job done, you come to us. Along the way, however, you get enemies.” He stops when he sees me shift in my seat and he fills his glass. Hitmen, a family who go out killing people, or clean up whatevercleaners do, this is a whole new world to me. And I’m not sure how I feel about it.

I should walk away from him. I should tell him to leave, but yet I can’t.

“My mom had a man who became obsessed with her, did everything he could to split my parents. In the end he got dirt on dad, enough dirt to put him in prison for life. My dad was ready to do it if it meant my mom was safe from him. My grandad and my uncle told me, . they had a plan. They knew what to do. All you have to do is have faith, my dad kept telling mom, have faith in me, it will all work out. Then the bastard went to my mom and told her if she left with him, my dad would only suffer a year in prison, and without talking to anyone, she did. She didn’t have faith in my dad. All she fucking needed was some faith.” A thunderous tone escapes him. The hurt, the hate, the betrayal, everything he is keeping inside him, is coming out. “My dad left prison after a year, took me and the family to get my mom. I was eight years old when I saw my dad get shot between the eyes by the bastard who took mom.” He shakes his head, but I see the grip around the glass tighten. He blames his mom for his dad’s death.

“Cain-”

“My dad died, because mom didn’t have faith in the family, in my dad. That same day I lost my dad, I also lost my life. Grandad told me families who wanted my dad dead would come for me. The bastard who killed my dad would tell everyone who I was, and that I was alone. We had everything, but at the same time, no one, fucking no one could have protected me from the people wanting to kill me. So, he told me I had to go underground, hide my identity from people. To a place where no one knows your name. The Pit.” Cain takes another sip of his whiskey giving me time to register everything he has told me.

His family are killers, fucking killers. Can I be around a family who kill people? Okay, they might deserve to die for whatever reason, but it should be left to the police.

But then again, when do the police ever do anything? They never helped me when I needed it.

His family has enemies. Do I want to be looking over my shoulder again? I’ve lived that hell, you never sleep, you can never enjoy your day. But then I was sort of alone. Now I have Cain with me, and I trust him with my life.

His dad was murdered in front of him, how can anyone ever recover from something like that. Seeing the man you look up to being shot.

How much worse can this story get? That’s enough to make sure he would never be the same again.

Cain finally walks over to me, and sits on the coffee table, and places the whiskey glass next to him, and moves his fingers over his knuckles.

“You don’t go by names in there, they give you a number-” my sight moves to the numbers tattooed on his fingers, then to the other hand. “-my numbers, grandads number. He said I couldn’t go down there alone, it was no place for a kid. He wasn’t fucking joking.”

“They burned them into…they,” I choke on the words, and he looks over at me, the first time he has since he started this story.

“Yes, the numbers on my chest, the burns, the hole marks, the whip marks, the…fuck you’ve seen it. It’s all from there. You fight to live another day, you have to fight, you don’t get a choice. They used to put me in a room,” he closes his eyes and I see his body tense up. “A white room, lights flashing non stop, music banging, sensory overload, I was in there for days, before they let me out. Then they would throw me into a fight.”

Oh my god, he is this way because of everything that happened to him, because he saw his dad murdered, lived inhell, fought for everything he has. When I first met him I said there was this darkness, coldness around him, of courses he’s like that, it’s because that’s where he’s come from.

“There are only two ways out, in a body bag, or you fight to control it. The Pit is mine, I fought to have it, I fought to take over, and I won’t let anyone take it from me. Not after what I lived through.” I sit up, putting my wineglass to the side, and place my hands on his. “I know I’m a monster, and-”

“No.” I almost snap at him. “Is that what you think? I don’t. I don’t think you’re a monster. You’re a man who’s had to fight to be the man he is. A man who has a family, and wants them to be a part of his life, but has only known one life. To me he is the best man I’ve ever met.”

“Stop. Being with me, showing the world you’re with me, will put you in danger, and I can’t lose you because of me. You left England because you hated looking over your shoulder, you’ll be doing it again when I’m not around you, you will be waiting for someone to hurt you, just to hurt me.”

“I don’t care,” I tell him.

“I do.” He gets up and walks away from me. “I lost Tess because I was in The Pit and couldn’t protect her, she didn’t have faith in me, I can’t lose you,” he shouts at me, and I stand up and look at this man who has fought through hell, and is now too scared to let anyone close to him.

I quickly walk over to him not giving him the chance to say anything. I kiss him, and I feel his arms around me. Finally pulling away from him, my hands moving through his hair.

“I have faith in you, all the faith I can give you, because I love you, Cain Crawford. With every single fiber in my body, I love you and everything that comes with you-”

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