Paradise Found: Cain (Paradise Stories Book 2) (16 page)

Despite having fallen, I couldn’t be weak. The vulnerability of admitting to Sofie how I felt was too much. I couldn’t risk the rejection if she didn’t feel the same way. The pain would be more than any hit I’d endured in a fight. I waited until the heaviness of Sofie’s breathing returned. Her hand fell still. I kissed her shoulder then stole from the bed like the devil that I was. I wanted her to stay, but I’d have to distance myself. I had somewhere else to be anyway. Someone else awaited
me
.

“Where the fuck have you been?” Atom growled in his slight Irish accent. The brogue was apparent more so when he was angry. He'd been leaning against his desk, but straightened the instant I entered his office. Anxiously anticipated me, I'd been coming and going often, over the past weeks, which increased after Abel confirmed Sofie had returned.

“Out,” I responded. I didn't owe him an explanation. I'd never given one before, but recently he was becoming more suspicious and inquisitive.

My father lived in a sprawling mansion, placed amongst the once rich and famous of Vegas. It was an older community, where movie moguls built their homes at the start of a time when this was going to be another Hollywood mecca. The house was a mix of stucco and flat rock, giving it a slightly dated look. I couldn't call it a home, but it was more a place to rest between the fights. It has also been my prison, when I was suspended for the death of an innocent man. My father claimed this was his paradise, but I found it a level of hell. I had another place in mind I considered Paradise and it didn't include brick and mortar. Besides, I owned my own house. A place I was attempting to make a home, albeit through unconventional means.

“I don't want you losing focus,” he demanded. “Fuck the girl, but don't get caught up,” he smirked. I shouldn't have done it. I'd never reacted before, but I lunged for him giving away my guilt and adding to my father's curiosity.

“Don't.” I cursed, on the verge of saying
don't talk about her like
that
, the words trapped, thankfully. I'd already given enough away and the wide eyes of Atom Callahan knew it.

“Who is she?” he hissed, choking under the pressure of my glare and the fist at his throat. I released his stare instantly, and his hesitant cough told me I'd gone too far.

“No one,” I lied. It wasn't enough. “No one of importance.” The words stung coming off my tongue. I couldn't believe I denied her like that, but I couldn't have told him the truth.
My wife
. He would never understand. Women were a curse, in his opinion.

Despite my large body structure, Atom Callahan was still a skilled fighter. He’d given up fighting me when I finally fought back. He’d been waiting for the day, claiming it made me a man. Over time, I wasn’t certain what it made him that he beat his eldest child and ignored his other two. Not wishing to psychoanalyze him, I left the room. I had a fight to make and then I needed to blow off some pent up frustration.

The fight went off without a hitch and my father was once again proud of my performance. His approval seemed less important to me than it had in the past, though. Did I need his acceptance? Did I still desire his attention? I’d left Sofie behind to appease my father, keeping her a secret still, and cursing myself for it. I needed to walk away from him. I needed my gym to take off. I needed Sofie to love me. Flaws and all, I wanted her to love me, but I worried about Sofie. If my father discovered I’d taken a wife, his wrath would be unimaginable. If I settled down, and gave up the fight, his anger would be unparalleled. My thoughts wandered to Sofie’s damaged apartment: the shredded bed, the torn clothing, the scattered belongings. My father was determined I would continue to fight.

“Too determined to give up. Too strong to stop now,” Atom encouraged in a pep talk, when I was faltering at twenty-one years old with the decision to keep battling with my fists. I didn’t have an alternative plan then, so the fights continued. I had responsibilities. Physical contact was my labor, which remained the staple for our lifestyle.

I tossed and turned, despite the energy release of the fight. My initial intent to find Malinda was abandoned and I threw back one too many drinks, instead. I missed Sofie. My mind alternated between images of her and my mother. They looked nothing like each other except for the blue eyes. Sofie’s were more glacial, while my mother’s, were a deep royal blue color. I had lost my mother and it set the precedent for my feelings toward all women. Leave them first, before they got too close, had been my motto. Reinforcement of this sentiment came from my father.

Recalling my mother’s voice from the night she left, I was never certain if I dreamt it or if she really came into my room before she escaped. Tossed out is what I later learned.

“What do you expect me to say, Atom? He tempted me. Tricked me, and I wanted him.”

I didn't understand that word - want, but I did now. I wanted Sofie, like I’d never wanted anyone. Yet my mother’s words haunted me.

“Why can’t I come with you? Why can’t Abel or Evie go, too?” I questioned her.

“He’ll kill me before he’d let you leave here,” she stated, the edge to her voice almost as sharp as a knife.

“Be careful, Cain. Protect them from him. He’s turned into a dangerous man. He’ll break you, baby, if you aren’t strong, and I know you’re strong. You won’t fall like me. You won’t make my mistakes. Don’t be tempted by lust. Fall in love, Cain. Listen to what I learned. Open your heart to another and it will break, but it can mend. You will be disappointed if you want anything more than what you are given. Don’t imagine taking love, earning love, finding love. Fight for it, Cain. Fight for it. That’s the real fight, my darling boy. That’s the only fight worth fighting.”

For a moment, I thought I felt her cool hand brush back my hair, and I woke with a start as I had as a youth. She was gone. The scent of her cedar and apple perfume lingered in my childhood room, but my mother had disappeared all those years ago. Thrown out of paradise because she wanted more; she wanted love.

Hiding out from Sophie, I’d been gone for nearly a week. I was afraid to continue to let her get too close to me, and yet yearned for the nearness of her body. I didn’t trust myself around her. The phone had been in my hand several times, tempting me to contact her, but I didn’t know what to say. I’d never been in this position before, feeling like I wanted to talk with someone, feeling like I wanted to return to one woman. But it wasn’t just one woman; it was Sofie. She was the calm for me, and I craved her like no other. Kursch informed her I went to Vegas; the fight wasn’t a secret. As I knew women loved to argue about a lack of communication, I braced myself for her upset when I returned.

I found Sofie was in her room. Kursch had stayed behind to keep an eye on her. He’d also done my dirty work by telling her where I had gone. I wasn’t convinced she was safe without me, but I had to get away from her. Hope was rising and it was a dangerous prospect. I was getting too close. Not to mention, she had pushed me away the week before. I’d fought hard, winning my fight, expelling my anger at her rejection. My fist rose to knock on her door, when I heard her soft voice talking to someone. The door was slightly ajar, so I pushed it gently forward. I stilled at the tenderness in her voice.

“No, no, I’m fine. Honest, Jacob.” Pause.

Who the fuck was Jacob?

She was facing toward the window. One arm wrapped around her middle while the other balanced upward to cradle her phone. Her chestnut colored hair was swept up in a familiar messy twist.

“Don’t be silly. You don’t need to do that. I’ll be alright.” Pause.

Her forehead pressed against the cool glass before her.

“No, you don’t need to send me money. I’m good.” Pause.

Her body straightened.

“No, don’t come out here. I’ll be seeing you soon anyway.”

Her shoulders slumped as if she was sad she wasn’t seeing this Jacob sooner.

“I promise. I’m good. I’ll be fine.”

He must have said something to lighten her mood because she chuckled softly. My heart pinched that someone else had calmed her fears. I didn’t like that someone else was soothing her burden.

“God, I love you, Jacob,” she laughed softly.

The punch to my stomach was so sudden the wind knocked out of me, even though I stood upright. Attempting to suck in air, the sound was audible enough that Sofie spun to face me. She caught me in her doorway with a glare. Wide-eyed, I returned her stare.

She loved him? She loved Jacob.

“I need to go,” she said quietly into the phone. “I’ll call you when I get there.”

She clicked off the phone and we glowered at one another.

“Where are you going?” I demanded.

“I have to work,” she huffed.

“I didn’t realize you still had a job,” I answered, irritated.

“I work at the vineyard. Remember?” she mocked. She stepped toward her bed, which I noticed was covered with clothing, as if she was sorting items, as if she were packing.

“What are you doing?” I tried to hold at bay the panic in my heart.

“I’m packing. For work. At the vineyard.” She emphasized each phrase patronizingly.

“Oh, will Jacob be there?” I snapped. If it weren’t for the roughness of my tone, I sounded like a petulant teenager. Her eyes narrowed as she glared at me.

“Are you …” Her mouth fell open in surprise. “Don’t you even dare go there with me,” she added, as her teeth clenched in disgust with her final word.

“Don’t go where with you?” I said, stepping forward into the room. Her hands busied as she hastily folded clothes and threw them into a bag.

“I’m not doing this with you,” she said, focusing on the suitcase before her, not even bothering to fold items, but rapidly rolling clothing, then shoving it into the case.

“Doing what? I’ve been gone a week and I come home to find my…to find you telling another man you love him,” I growled.

“Another …” Her face turned so pink she didn’t finish the sentence. “How dare you? I’m not the one who slunk out of my bed, then ran off to Vegas to be with his
whatever
you call her!” she yelled in my direction, waving her arms upward for emphasis.

“My whatever?” I shouted in return.

“Your Malinda,” she snapped.

“My … She’s no one.”

“You’re lying,” she stammered.

“She’s …” I began but she interrupted me.

“Oh, wait, I forgot. You’re the illustrious Cobra. No single mate for you. No commitment or attachments for Cain Callahan. Oh, no, you’re free to snake around where you please!” She huffed, tossing a final item into the bag and angrily zipping it up, struggling as she yanked on the tab.

“No single mate. What the fuck are you taking about? I’m not single.”

Her hand stilled.

“What?” she growled.

“I’m…”
Shit
. I ran a hand over my hair, then scrubbed it down my face.

She stepped around the bed into my space, coming so close; it could have been intimate, if she wished to kiss me. However, the look on her face was anything but intimate.

“You’re what?” she growled again, her hands clenching at her sides.

“I’m married,” I whispered, closing my eyes to her glare. I opened my lids slowly to find her shaking her head. In fact, her arms shook as well.

“We’re divorced,” she spat through clenched teeth.

“We aren’t,” I sighed. The words were slowly drifting to the floor. I watched them fall, as if they were to be trampled any moment by her retreat.

“What? Never mind,” she stumbled from one thought to the next. One idea was perfectly clear to her, though. “You lying, unfaithful bastard.” Spoken so calmly, it frightened me more than the edge to her voice moments ago.

“I … it’s been over a year … and you haven’t …”

“If I’m still your wife, you’d rather slink off to have sex with someone other than me?”

“Sex? With my wife?” I stammered, then staggered with the force of her words. “You want to have sex? You know I'm dying to make love to you. Let's do it now, if you'd like,” I snarled, mixed with a hiss of both disgust and desire. I ripped my t-shirt aggressively over my head and my hands came to the button of my pants.