Page 36 of Like Grim Death: Part One
I try to yank my arms from his hold, but he only pulls me closer, until my palm is once more planted against him, this time lower, over the hard muscles of his abs. Cain is bigger than all of them, but I’m still not scared. Not of him.
I’m too annoyed for fear. All these thoughts of Sid and Maverick are bubbling into my head. I’vewatchedher touch him. “Where. Is.He?”
Cain would cover for him. It’s not entirely out of the realm of possibility that my boyfriend would drop his nephew off, then get caught up in some sick and twisted, incestual fuck fest with his half-sister and her husband. There are no lines that aren’t crossed between adults in Unsainted. I’ve seen it firsthand.
My stomach flips.
There’s a pause after my question, and I think Cain isn’t going to answer me. No one ever does, do they? But finally, he just says, “He’s safe.” He sounds annoyed, and tired, but I don’t care. I want to know why my fucking boyfriend isn’t coming back. “Go. To. Bed.” His eyes are narrowed, and I feel his body tense beneath my fingertips. He doesn’t want a fight. I wouldn’t put it past him to drug me to get me to sleep, but until he does, I’m not going to bed.
“Is he with her?” My chest heaves as I ask the question again, slick, hot jealousy deep in my veins. But Cain said he’ssafe,so he can’t be on a job or anything, right? And I can’t stand the thought of where he might be. I was good to her. I was kind. I don’t understand what the fuck is happening with her and Lucifer and Jeremiah, not wholly, and I know when she found out I…
I don’t want to think about Lucifer, and what I did with him. Shame engulfs me when I do, because I did it at Maverick’s command. She didn’t get mad athim,did she?
Another thought bursts in. Something I’ve been asking myself a lot lately, seeing the way Sid defies Lucifer at every turn, even in casual conversation, and all the ways I go along with everything Maverick tells me.
Whispered words in the dark of the basement from Atlas have kept me up at night.
Do I always just do what he says? Do I ever think for myself?My tired mind and the anger in my body has my thoughts confused and annoyed and I just want him back here. Where the fuck is he?
Cain stares at me a moment, his fingers loosening then flexing again around the bones of my wrist.
“Does he know you’re so jealous?” he asks quietly. There’s no humor in his words, or I would think the question was meant to taunt me.
“Answer me first.” I watch his dark eyes flick over my body, and I’m grateful the T-shirt is Maverick’s, and oversized. But I’m very aware I’m standing in my pajamas in front of Cain, the biggest whore I think I’ve ever met, and that’s saying a lot, considering my mom. And Sid.
Slowly, as heat blooms over my chest, Cain’s eyes come back to mine.
Then he pushes me back, controlling my arms as my spine collides with the wall in the foyer. It isn’t painful, he’s not forceful, but he’s dominating me, all the same.
His thigh comes between mine and I bite my lip, shaking my head. “What the hell are you—”
“You have to get that shit under control.” He doesn’t lean into my space, but with his body effectively pinning me to the wall, he doesn’t have to. He forces my elbows to bend, pressing my forearms beside my head and restraining me, his thigh still pressed between mine. “The more you show how much she affects you, the more everyone will play with it. It’s a weakness. Dismember it.”
Dismember it.
The words crawl down my spine, lifting the hairs on the nape of my neck. But I don’t focus on the unease. Instead, I say, “They fucked each other. She was with him at Ignis—”
“You don’t trust him?”
The question hits me in the gut, pulling my thoughts from that stupid initiation ceremony.Do I trust him?I ran away from my entire life for him. For a better one, yeah, and more attention and love andstuffthan I’ve ever had. I left Mom behind, and I don’t usually feel guilty about it, but sometimes, those emotions hit me. Maybe I messed up. Maybe I’m delusional.
But we don’t talk about it.
And sometimes, I think I can feel Maverick’s own grief about his mom, someone he too, refuses to talk to me about. His dad, either. He buries it. It’s like he didn’t lose both parents at the same time. It’s like nothing happened at all. He’s still hot tempered and volatile, but he’s never sad. He never lets me see that.
What does he let Sid see? Is he hiding things from me like I’m hiding from him? Like the dull ache beneath my thighs right now?Will you be proud, Mavy, when you find out what I’ve done?
Cain scoffs, a short, abrupt sound. All at once, he releases me and steps back. “Go to bed. He’s not with her.” He turns his back to me and it feels like a rejection. As usual, I’m the last to know anything going on in this fucked-up world. But now I have a few secrets of my own and I don’t take cryptic avoidance as an answer anymore.
I step away from the wall. “I’m going to find out where he is.” I start for the staircase, intent on putting my shoes on and walking to Lucifer’s house, and… what? Barging in? Ringing the damn doorbell? What if Maverick really isn’t there? Maybe I can punch Sid in the face just for the fuck of it. Maybe it would make me feel better.
“I’m really fucking tired.” Cain’s words are through gritted teeth. I’ve never seen him angry before. He’s intimidating in his indifference, and this, a flare of emotion and the true exhaustion in his words, has me pausing as I circle my fingers around the railing of the staircase, glancing at his shadow in the foyer, his back to me as he faces the hallway toward the living room. “I don’t want to be here just as much as you don’t want me here. It was a last-minute thing. I was busy. Do me a fucking favor, get your ass to bed, and take this shit up with Maverick in the morning. He isn’t with her, he might still want to fuck her, but if he tried, Lucifer would cut his dick off. So, if you don’t trust him, at least trustthat.”
I feel sick, hearing those words. The ones that stand out.He might still want to fuck her.
No, no, no.
I release the railing and curl my fingers into a fist, slamming it on the iron banister. “Fuck that,” I snarl, one foot on the bottom step, pain reverberating through my hand. “Why does he even want her?” The anger expands in my chest, the words vomiting up without my permission. Like Cain actually has answers. Like he gives a fuck. Of all of them, he probably cares the least. Maybe that’s why I keep going. He won’t gossip or run his mouth. “I don’t get it. I do everything for him, and she’s… she’s…” I shake my head, clenching my jaw as I search for the word.Everything I’m not.Feisty and angry and fed up and unafraid.
