Paradise Found: Cain (Paradise Stories Book 2) (6 page)

When I returned to my suite, I shouldn’t have been surprised, but I was. She was gone. Her scent lingered on the sheets, but nothing else remained. I’d persuaded her roommates, one of which happened to be the resort owner’s daughter, into sending her suitcase to my room. I didn’t even have a sense that she’d showered. In my mind’s eyes, I could picture her leaving; just like she’d done that morning after…that day my father intruded and kicked her out of my room. The pain in her eyes as she questioned me, whispering my name in confusion; it gutted me. This morning, she would have dressed quickly and wheeled her case down the hall, attempting to disappear from my life.

Only this time, I knew where she was, and I wasn’t letting her get away so easily.

I’d already sent my keys to Abel’s room, hoping he would escape the devil’s hold, so I didn’t have my SUV. I’d have to take Kursch’s truck, as I couldn’t wait for a flight back to the Valley. I would be too wound up to sit still on an airplane anyway. I needed to feel in control and driving was the only way that would happen. Without giving much explanation, Kursch willingly handed over SUV keys and sent me on my way. I trusted he’d be following on the next flight out of Vegas.

Crossing the desert of Nevada was my penance. I’d been too brash with her this morning. Sofie’s shock at discovering we were still married was etched in her sweet face, which paled at my revelation. Her struggle for words was further evidence of her surprise. Being married to me was the last thing she wanted. The sooner I returned to the Valley, the sooner I found Sofie; the sooner we’d finalize our divorce. The problem was, I hadn’t convinced myself.

My heart rate spiked as I drummed the steering wheel, willing myself to go faster than the almost hundred miles per hour I was attempting. I needed to take care of things, once and for all, with Sofie. Let her go and move on. It was the right thing to do, but I never did the right thing. As much as I wanted to keep her, I had to free her. The divorce would assure her safety from my world. The only issue was; I’d been holding on for almost a year. When she didn’t sign those papers, I hoped it was for some other reason. And hope was a dangerous word. I’d had the internal conversation a million times with myself.
Maybe she didn’t want to divorce me, just didn’t know how to find me
. However, I wasn’t difficult to find. I was a prizefighter, a champion in the circuit. I argued Sofie wasn’t familiar with the fight world. I had to laugh as I remembered her asking me if MMA was an academy. She was so innocent. The curve of her ripe lips. The sweet sparkle to her eyes. The tenderness of her skin.

My foot pushed the pedal further to the floor. She could have found me, I reasoned, but then I remembered the way she left my room at her grandparents’ inn. She didn’t look back. It had to be me who searched for her, and that’s just what I’d done. I filed for divorce: assuring my father I would handle “the situation” as he called it. My indiscretion, he cursed. I had been too late, though. She left for Italy. I’d sent the papers to her grandparents, but she was gone on her semester abroad. That was the reason she hadn’t signed the damn papers. It had nothing to do with wanting me.

My palm beat against the steering wheel, causing it to shudder under the force. “
Fuck
!” I cursed and the sound echoed back through the empty SUV. I needed to get to the Valley. I needed to return if I wished to let her go. The problem was…I didn’t.

It had only been one day. Twenty-four hours. I returned to Lindee Parks’ room, scowling at Lucie, for letting my things be moved to Cain’s room. She didn’t know the extent of my history with him. How could I tell my friends that I’d married a man I hardly knew, on the first night we met? And suddenly, I’d found out we were still married? I couldn’t even comprehend this bizarre situation myself, let alone try to explain to others what I’d done. What I’d done was be tempted by a snake, seduced by his charm, and warmed by his body. In reality, it wasn’t as cut and dry as that sounded.

Cain Callahan had come to the vineyard to escape. He’d killed a man, and he wanted some peace to process what he’d done. I only knew these things upon deep reflection after he left. During his visit, I had become a distraction. I wasn’t so full of my own self-confidence to think I had tempted him. On the contrary, I had been played by the master of seduction. His focus on me preoccupied his mind from the real world, at least for twenty-four hours.

I was considered sweet, driven, and focused. I had a plan. I was going to be a doctor. The death of my parents had been the force pushing me in the direction of medical school. I didn’t want what happened to them to happen to others. Because of this future goal, I didn’t date. I didn’t party. I didn’t do much of anything outside my scheduled world of study and work. At Preston University, I was a senior, and I had a job this past semester as a TA. I worked at my grandparents’ vineyard on long weekends. That’s how I was home the previous summer and met Cain Callahan.

Lucille Cecilia Moretti, otherwise known as Lucie, had become my best friend, while we were overseas in Italy. I didn’t have many friends outside of her. She was observant and hadn’t missed my not-so-discreet obsession with all things Cain Callahan. When she asked me about him, I replied minimally, often closing out the Internet screen and fumbling to find an answer for her question:
What are you doing looking at images of the Cobra?
It was a very good question, and one I wished I could honestly answer. I should have forgotten him. The way he left me was etched in my memory. His cold dismissal, as his father implied I was like any other slut Cain had used for a night. His hard face was bronzed in my mind as I returned the ring to him, one more time, then fled the room like the hussy I felt myself to be. Thrown out of our private Garden of Eden, a night of pure seduction, I was cursed to live alone.

Lucie didn’t pry, but she was curious. She caught me on several occasions searching the Internet for information about the mysterious Cain Callahan, who didn’t seem enigmatic. Photos of him, with women draped over both arms, or tongues licking his neck like female serpents called to taste their king, were all over social media. The mystery was the man I had met, who seemed slightly different than the drunken images in brightly lit dance halls and darkened bars. That man appeared lost. The man I had known was tender, sweet almost, despite his demands. I wasn’t beyond following his orders. His body was just too good at what it could do to mine.

“How could you send my things to his room? You don’t even know him,” I blurted, as Lucie blinked at me from her position seated on the sofa. Lindee Parks was also present, but her body language showed her confusion at my outburst.

“Well, you seemed to know him,” she snorted, in a sweet natured laugh of dismissal.

“How would you know that?” I asked, lowering myself to the couch cushions and wishing to melt into them, as I feared I’d done something I couldn’t remember in my drunken state.

“Besides the fact you latched onto him when he picked you up off the dance floor? Or the familiarity of you calling him Cain?” I winced at her teasing words. I vaguely remember tripping, falling forward, but never hitting the ground. He had saved me.

“Or maybe it was all the Internet searching and denial of anything Cain Callahan?” Lucie laughed.

“You let me be kidnapped to his room?”

“I didn’t have much of a choice. He can be rather charming, and he seemed pretty confident that you would want to be with him. He assured me he would take care of you.” Lucie wiggled her eyes in a suggestive manner, implying I would get more than I required in the way of assistance.

“I was drunk!” I shrieked.

“Weren’t we all?” Lindee mumbled. She had remained quiet through my interchange with Lucie, but my attention shifted to her. The expression on her pale face was a mirror image of mine. She looked sad. I felt defeated. I was passing from that nervous energy of a morning hangover into full-fledge exhaustion. I didn’t want to think anymore.

“Did he do something he shouldn’t have?” Lucie quietly questioned. I almost berated her concern for too little too late, but the guilty look on her face told me that it was slowly occurring to her things could have gotten out of control because I was drunk.

“No,” I sighed. “No, he wouldn’t do that to me.” I hung my head, shaking it back and forth at my own admission. Cain Callahan might have been a lot of things I didn’t know, but one thing I was certain of: he wouldn’t take advantage of an unwilling woman. More than
willing
had been the very adjective to describe me when we first met.

“So you do know him?” Lucie asked softly, a hint of teasing returning. I took a deep breath and sat up straighter, resigned to my confession.

“Yes, actually, I do know him.” I glanced at Lindee Parks, her eyes questioning mine. I hadn’t admitted this fact to her before, even though I eventually learned who she was. She had been the girlfriend of Montana; the fighter Cain had killed.

“How do you know him?” Lindee asked, her voice a quiver. Her face showed a flood of emotion and memory over her old lover’s death came to her.
How could I answer?
I couldn’t tell the truth. All I really knew about Cain was that he was my husband.

We were a quiet group as we took our flight back to Silicon Valley and Preston University. Lindee seemed deep in her own thoughts about the weekend. We’d lost Elma Montgomery, who left suddenly this morning with Abel Callahan. Lucie was her exuberant self, joined by Lindee’s cousin, Maggie. I didn’t really know Maggie. I’d only met her through Lucie. As I was having difficulty following or maintaining any conversation, Lindee and I were exiled to sit together on the return flight, while Lucie and Maggie sat across the aisle.

I hid from Cain the remainder of the morning, not that he came looking for me. He hadn’t returned for me before; I shouldn’t have expected him to search for me again. I’d made my escape, and I tried to sigh with relief, but the truth was: the exhale of air hurt. My heart felt like shards of glass were piercing it with each release of oxygen. The pain I had endured the first time he left me, without making any contact after that weekend a year ago, had been something I’d never known, and promised myself I wouldn’t ever feel again. I was so wrong.

“It was such an awful thing to witness,” Lindee said, breaking into my thoughts. She was looking out the window, but her comment was directed at me.

“Excuse me?” I didn’t know Lindee any better than I knew her cousin. I’d only met her when I returned from Italy and discovered Lucie was living with Lindee and Maggie in a campus apartment. My own apartment was a studio off campus. I spent most of my time with my books, realistically, and I preferred to live alone. While I didn’t personally know Lindee, I knew of her; at least, of her situation with Joey Montana, the man Cain killed.

“Watching the man you love, crumble before you, and knowing there is nothing you can do about it,” she paused, turning to face me. “It was awful to witness.” Her eyes weren’t cold, but compassionate. She’d witnessed pain: her own heartbreak.

“Cain didn’t kill him, but it was hard to reconcile that fact for a long time. It was his blows, but Montana’s will that killed him in the end.”

The truth was vague to me. When Cain left me, I believed he had killed a man. It wasn’t until recently, when I met Abel, that I learned the facts. Another Internet search provided the news reports of Cain’s clearance from charges of murder and his reinstatement into the UFC. Foolishly, I began to research the UFC, wanting to know more about the fight world. I worried that Cain had the power to kill again, or worse, get killed himself.

“Montana had a concussion. He wasn’t cleared to fight, but he did anyway. He needed the money, so I was told. He bet against himself. Elma would kill me if she found out I told you, but I think you need to know. I don’t believe Cain Callahan did anything on purpose. I think he was fighting a fight
to win
. That’s what Montana was doing. Why would it have been any different for Cain?” Her eyes shifted to her jeans and she pinched at the denim fabric.

“I loved Montana. As much as you can love someone who loves the fight,” she sighed. “He didn’t love me in the same way.” Lindee was sharing more than I needed to know about her relationship with Montana, and I didn’t understand why.

“I don’t believe Cain is a killer, but I’d still watch my heart if I were you. Fighters love the fight, not love. That’s where the saying comes from.
I’m a lover not a fighter
,” she laughed without humor. “It’s because the fighters aren’t lovers.”

I risked my own confessions if I argued with her. I disagreed, however. Cain Callahan was an excellent lover. Although the physical impression was almost a year old, the memories seemed fresh. But on further examination, I understood what she meant. Cain might have been a master of the bedroom, but I wasn’t going to be the queen of his heart. The cage was his mistress. The fight was his lover. I had been a fling that resulted in a label: wife.