Paradise Found: Cain (Paradise Stories Book 2) (11 page)

“What does that mean?” I barked, not fully comprehending what he was telling me.

“It means she doesn’t want anything from you and it means it’s official. You’re divorced once we submit to the lawyer.”

Fuck!
This was good. This was bad.

“Give me the papers,” I spit. She was too good for me, and a better man would have let her go. I should have let her go, but I couldn’t. Kursch stared at me with dark brown eyes that were the only soft feature of his appearance. He’d looked at me over the years with love and concern after my father’s accusations and beatings. He’d been mother and father, although he was no blood relation. He gave off the impression of a killer in his own right rather than a gentle giant, but he nodded once in acknowledgement. As if anticipating my intention before I did, he handed over the blue envelope.

“That’s what I thought,” he grumbled with a slight chuckle and let me return to my attack of an innocent locker room.

Midweek, I was back at the science building. Although my concentration was flawed lately, I was doing my best to throw myself into anything that took my mind off the unbelievable events of the last ten days.

He fingerfucked me.

He told me we were married.

He divorced me.

It was worse than a poorly written romance novel.

I was in one of those deep moments of thought when I saw Abel Callahan approaching me. My first instinct was to turn and walk away. I didn’t want any more to do with the Callahan clan, but Abel had been sweet, and I couldn’t fault him the sins of his brother.

“Hey, Sofie,” he addressed me cheerfully.

“Abel.” I falsely smiled in return. We fell in step together, although I wasn’t certain where he was heading. I needed lunch and was on my way to La Cantina for something quick and takeaway.

“I haven’t seen you since we returned. How are you?” he asked, eyeing me in a searching sort of way.

“I’m fine,” I exaggerated, “and how are you?”

“I’m good,” he singsonged in return, teasing me with the words, but the look of happiness on his face told me he was more than good. I’d heard from Lucie that Elma had decided to move in with Abel. They were officially official, whatever that meant. I wasn’t much of a dater before, so I didn’t know much about being official with someone, although I hadn’t been a virgin when I married Cain. I shut down thoughts of him immediately. It didn’t matter that I’d been married. There had been no official commitment in those vows.

“So did you hear about Cain’s fight?”

Without thinking, my reaction was to glance at Abel in concern. I scolded myself internally and turned away. “I haven’t.”

“Knocked his opponent out in the first round.” The pride in Abel’s voice was evidence that his brother was back on the road to being a champion.

I could only respond with a miffed grunt of acknowledgement.

“He didn’t tell you,” Abel hinted, as he opened the door to the university cafeteria. I suddenly wasn’t hungry but I entered anyway.

“We don’t talk,” I muttered.

“What?” Abel laughed until I rounded on him. Something in my face caught him off guard and he studied me.

“You know, right?” Abel questioned, concerned that he was about to spoil a secret.

“Know what?” I sighed, crossing my arms, playing along with his torture.

“You’re…” He looked left and right before leaning in to answer: “You’re his wife.” The smile broke out instantly on Abel’s face and he struggled to hold back an excited laugh.

“How would I not know?” I grumbled, remembering full well I hadn’t known for almost a year. “Although I’m not any longer.”

At this statement, Abel’s face fell. “Wait, what?”

“He wanted a divorce.”

“He…he what?” Abel’s expression would be considered comical, if the conversation wasn’t suddenly taking a twist.

“He divorced me. I’m not his wife. There was no marriage. Or so, we are to pretend.” That
was
comical, and ironic.

“But he…”

“He what?” I said, still holding my arms crossed over my chest. My hunger was completely gone, as was my patience with this conversation.

“He…he moved here,” Abel choked.

Impossible
, I thought, but slowly dawning arose. The house. The familiarity. He was so comfortable in it, but he avoided acknowledging who was the owner.

“So?” I said petulantly.

“So he did it to be closer to
his wife
.” Abel’s voice almost shrieked as it rose in surprise. A few peoples’ heads turned as they passed us, heading into the crowded lunchroom.

“Well, that must be another woman, because it’s no longer me,” I huffed. I brushed past him and pushed my way out the heavy doors. I needed air, not food, and I took in deep gulps as I rushed down the crosswalk to the student parking lot. For the first time in a long time, I was skipping a class.

I wasn’t one to make rash decisions, but then again who was I kidding? I’d married a man, hours after meeting him, then played along with the farce for over twenty-four hours. In the moment, the only rational thing I could think to do was to try to remember the path to his home. I pulled up outside the white house with a terra cotta roof and bolstered my nerve. I needed to know if what Abel said was true. Clenched fists at my side, I marched up to the house.
This was crazy
, I internally scolded, then reprimanded myself again for marrying a man I didn’t know. That was the crazy part.

Knocking on the door, my heart pulsed louder. The heavy dark wood hardly made a sound as the noise of my pounding was absorbed in its thickness. For a moment, I breathed in the mountain laurels that fragranced the portico, as I stood under the covered entrance. The deep breath grounded me, and I thought:
What am I doing here? Why do I care?

I shook my head at my ridiculousness and turned to step away from the house. Walking slowly down the walk, I was nearing my Jetta when a shiny black motorcycle slipped up the driveway. My pace slowed at the approach of the screeching sound. I should have run at that moment. Instead, I paused at the beauty of a buff man on a sleek bike. When the engine cut, it snapped me out of my fantasy, and I turned away quickly.

I’d hardly taken two steps when my upper arm was grabbed and I was spun to face Cain. His edged face was hard; his jaw clenched, but his eyes searched and pleaded with questions.

“Is it true? Do you live here?” I spit the words, sounding angry without reason. He could live wherever he wanted to live, even if it was a bit ironic to live just outside of my university town.

“Yes,” he replied, releasing his hold on me. He let his head fall as if he was embarrassed. He would always be ashamed. He’d married me in a drunken stupor, and he wouldn’t want that mark on his history.

“Why?” I blurted, letting my hands slap against my thigh. The sting of my palm on my skin reverberated among the afternoon sounds. A bird chirped. A lawnmower sang. My growing anger was almost viable.

“Because my wife lives here,” he smirked. An annoyingly devilish smile grew on his face as he crossed his arms casually over his chest. I’ve never had the desire to hit someone, but maybe it was the osmosis of being near a fighter. I wanted to slap that curved lip and damnable dimple off his cheek.

“It was pretend!” I yelled, uncertain where the aggression came from. My chest heaved with a sigh of frustration.

“I don’t want to pretend,” he stated in response. We both froze at his words.

“What?” I questioned, my tone softening as my chest hitched. His hands dropped from his chest and his fingers flexed at his sides.

“I don’t want to pretend,” he repeated. His tone was terse. His jaw clenched again.

“This isn’t real,” I stated softer, but harshly in disbelief.

“Then let’s work at making it real.” His mouth crushed over mine before I could reply. I wasn’t spiraled into the past, like I thought I’d be if our mouths ever met again. I was propelled into the future. This was a promise of how things would be. He would possess me, body and soul, and I would let him.

The touch of his lips was a surge of invasion. The sting of his tongue a pleasurable reminder of all that I’d shared with him, and all that I wanted to share again. His hands came to my cheeks and positioned my head so he could take me deeper. While his fingers had previously invaded my body, this was more powerful. This kiss was more intimate and controlling. His mouth demanded; I surrendered, being the weak soul that I was. For a few moments.

Then I remembered myself, and I forced him back from me. It wasn’t aggressive, though my body vibrated with the energy to force an elephant away from me. It was telling. He couldn’t keep coming at me without warning. He couldn’t take and not give. Small hands pressed against a hard, broad chest that rose and fell under my fingers. His heart beat against my palm. Our kiss had done this to him. However, I wasn’t convinced it was me. It was a natural reaction to the physical connection of our lips. Heart rate increased. Blood pressure increased. Pleasure neurons in brain respond with excitement. This was Human Anatomy 101.

“I…I can’t do this,” I stated. My heart aching as it had so many times since the return of Cain Callahan. “My heart.” I clutched at my chest. “It can’t take it.”

She left me standing there vibrating with need and sinking with lost desire. That kiss had reawakened everything I thought I remembered about her and every suppressed fantasy of wanting to keep her. I should have followed her. After she drove away, I remained standing in my yard, for a few minutes, before slowly returning to my bike. Escorting it the rest of the way up my drive and dragging it into the three-car garage behind the house, I stared at the empty space I left for her car someday. Shaking my head, I called Kursch, seeking reassurance that I could do what he advised.

“Don’t be a fool, like me,” he warned. “If you want her, you need to be prepared to fight for her.”

I didn’t know much of Kursch’s backstory. He was always just part of our family, even though he wasn’t. He was present every day in my life, possibly more so than my father, definitely more favorably than my father. He didn’t prevent what my father did, as he often wasn’t present to the action. He did, however, attempt to comfort me afterward. Only once did he admonish my father in front of me. The resulting argument filled me with concern that I’d never see Kursch again. After the loss of my mother, I couldn’t lose him as well. He remained, though. Whatever had been said, had been resolved or forgotten, and he remained.

I spent the day continuing to plan out a project that had developed since I moved to the Preston area. I wasn’t ready to go public with the idea; but the longer I stayed, the more excited I became about the prospect of doing something on my own. Doing something I wanted to do for me, not because my father demanded it or the family needed it. I was working in my home office hours later when my phone rang.

“Abel,” I breathed without the customary hello.

“She’s going to kill me for calling, but I think you need to get to Lindee Parks’ place.”

“Who?” I sighed, bored already with Abel’s call.

“Lindee Parks. Her parents own The Belfast. That isn’t the point. Her roommate is Lucie, Sofie’s best friend, and Sofie’s here. Her apartment was broken into.”

He’d hardly finished his last words and I was up out of my chair. Balancing the phone, I searched for keys in the desk drawer and sprinted to my SUV, demanding an address. I punched it into the navigation system and kept Abel on the line as I drove.

“Tell me what happened.”

“All I got was that the place was trashed.”

I thought back to the time I entered her apartment. Papers were scattered over the floor. Clothing and blankets covered her furniture. The unmade bed. The clothes on a chair beside it. She was rather messy. Something was missing from my remembrance, though.

“Are you certain it was a break in?”

“Her bed was slashed.”

The open window flashed before me. My heart dropped, as did my foot on the pedal. I raced through curving streets to Preston University. It was growing dark in the late summer evening. Lindee lived off campus in student apartments, which were clearly below her means. Her parents owned The Belfast, for Christ’s sake. Pulling up to the brick complex of six buildings, centered by a worn grassy area, I exited my truck and raced to building six. After taking the stairs two at a time, I pounded harshly on the door. It opened straightaway and I pushed forward without introducing myself.