Hating Cain Page 18

  “Yeah, I’m okay,” he said. “A little overwhelmed. In a good way.”

  My heart thumped hard, tripping over itself. At once I seemed to sober up. I knew that later that none of this could be blamed on alcohol. With our fingers intertwined and our bodies connected as one, this wasn’t just fucking. Even thinking about it that way felt crude and cheap.

  But then, what were we doing? Simply having sex? Or doing something more?

  Making love?

  The thought of it left me breathless. To call it that meant I loved Cain, and I didn’t know if I was ready to commit to that level of intimacy.

  “Why’d you stop?”

  Cain’s breathless question brought me back to reality. I felt stupid getting lost in deep philosophical thoughts while I was half-buried in him. Any other man would have chased his release and dealt with the issue in the morning. But I was too mixed-up in Cain, physically and emotionally.

  “Johnny?” Cain asked again, a crease in his brow. He flexed his fingers and brushed them against my hand, as if to remind me of his presence.

  I couldn’t find the right words, so I said nothing. But apparently, nothing was the wrong thing to say.

  “Don’t do this right now,” Cain murmured disappointedly. “Please.”

  He unlaced our fingers and reached for my face, stroking my cheek as he firmly held my gaze. “Get out of your head. Don’t think about the future. Just… stay with me. Here and now.”

  Stay with me.

  Those words flipped a switch I’d been trying to ignore this entire time, and cold reality hit me. My intent was to leave Rosecreek and everyone in it behind. Everything I’d done up until now was a step closer to my goal of abandoning this life.

  Of abandoning Cain.

  I looked down at him with renewed anxiety, trying not to see the dawning dread on his face. I couldn’t do this to him. I couldn’t taunt him with intimacy and then yank it away.

  As painful and difficult as it was, I forced the words out in a small voice. “We shouldn’t.”

  His eyes changed in a split-second. The warm vulnerability vanished as they turned cold and distant. His body tensed, and I couldn’t even appreciate the tight friction of his body still enveloping my cock because of how guilty I felt.

  “Get off me,” he growled.

  I pulled out and gave him space. Cain immediately got to his feet, snatching his clothes and getting dressed with his back to me.

  “Cain,” I said.

  “Don't talk to me.”

  My voice was a little more frantic. “Cain, wait.”

  “No.” He whirled on me, radiating anger and sadness. “I’m done. Whatever your problem is, figure it out before you talk to me again. Until then, stay out of my life.”

  He stormed out.

  I didn’t try to stop him.

  26

  Cain

  In the half a week that passed since the night of Johnny’s party, the sharp pain of his betrayal didn’t hurt any less.

  Maybe calling it a betrayal was going overboard, but when he stopped in the middle of the best sex I’d ever had to suggest maybe we quit, I was livid. I was upset and furious. I was broken.

  What was wrong with me? Obviously there was something about me Johnny just couldn’t get past. Something he couldn’t accept.

  Tears sprang to my eyes again as I curled up in my desk chair with my knees to my chest, and not for the first time I angrily blinked them away. Work had been difficult for the past few days, and when the words came they were sparse and unenthusiastic. I hated Johnny for having such a powerful influence on me when I obviously couldn’t return the favor.

  The sex wasn’t bad, which meant there was something wrong with me.

  I found myself barreling down the train of thought again, and I didn't try to stop it since I obviously wasn’t getting any work done anyway. The memories of the night of the party, and the night we’d spent together on his couch flickered to the forefront of my mind.

  I realized with a hideous, ugly feeling in my stomach that they were exactly the same. Both times Johnny had freaked out and cast me off. Maybe I should have felt lucky that at least he had the decency the first time to wait until the morning after. I barked out a bitter laugh thinking about how he literally stopped mid-fuck to announce he wanted to end whatever relationship we had.

  A soft whimper made me look down. Roxy sat by my chair’s wheels, her ears pinned back as she gazed up at me with big brown eyes. I let out a thin sigh and scooped her up. Maybe she sensed my foul mood and was trying to cheer me up.

  At least there’s one living being who cares about me.

  I stroked her hairless back and leaned back into my chair, shutting my eyes. I couldn’t focus. I could barely think of anything except how upset I was. The bad mood clung to me like a storm cloud that wouldn’t dissipate.

  I wondered if I even wanted to make up with Johnny. Now that he was permanently moved in, his presence would be a constant thorn in my side if I continued to ignore him. I almost laughed again. We were right back where we started, two next-door neighbors who hated each other.

  Discomfort bloomed in my chest. I was lying to myself. Despite being furious with him, I didn’t hate him.

  But I was starting to hate myself.

  It felt strange being on my old high school’s property again. The big football field stretched out before me, flanked by familiar bleachers on either side. With no one else in the gravel lot, I parked sloppily by the wooden rail in front of the field.

  Roxy whined and nosed my hand as I sat there, staring out through the windshield. I’d almost forgotten she was there, even though she was the whole reason I’d dragged myself out of the house. As much as I wanted to sit around and mope, I forced myself to do something productive by taking Roxy to an open space to run around in. An open, empty space with no one else around, so I wouldn’t have to see another human being.

  The late summer air was charged and grey clouds hanging low overhead promised an oncoming storm. I gave it half an hour before the rain broke. Plenty of time to tire out a fifteen-pound dog.

  I grabbed a pink tennis ball from the glove compartment and watched Roxy’s eyes light up. Instantly she gave me an excited doggy grin, oblivious to my mopey attitude and focusing only on the ball. I couldn't help but smile back.

  “All right, girl, get all your energy out now because daddy’s not leaving the house again tonight, okay?”

  She barked. I chucked the ball as far as I could throw it, which was barely half the length of the field. Thankfully it was just me and her, with no one else around to judge my crappy arm strength.

  We played fetch for a solid ten minutes before her tongue began to loll and her thin chest moved rapidly. Still, her enthusiasm didn’t dull, so I kept throwing the ball. I sat on the lowest seat of the bleachers, feeling tired even though Roxy was the one doing all the work.

  Tired from throwing a pink tennis ball, Cain? Really? God, I need to start working out or something, I thought, feeling even more exhausted at the mere idea.

  A low rumble from the sky above made me lift my head. The clouds had darkened, and the first drops of rain began to fall, making me flinch as the droplets hit my face. But I didn’t feel the need to hurry home. A little rain never hurt anyone. It was no heavy downpour, and Roxy obviously wasn’t bothered by it, so I decided to stay for her sake.

  “What would I do without you, huh?” I asked Roxy as she deposited the ball at my feet and wagged her tail.

  I chucked the ball and laughed as Roxy slipped on the newly wet grass in her eagerness to catch it.

  Then the little traitorous voice in my head suggested it would be nice if Johnny was here to enjoy this moment, too.

  I shut it out. I didn’t need Johnny. I was done with him. He hadn’t even tried to contact me since that disastrous night, so I convinced myself that whatever we had was over.

  It was easier this way.

  Something pale and quick flashed in the corner of
my eye, and for a brief second I thought it was lightning striking the earth–but then the shape of a large prick-eared dog entered my vision. It was heading straight for Roxy. I shot up.

  “Roxy!” I called, a note of alarm in my voice.

  The white shepherd was faster. She lunged closer, her eyes focused and almost hungry, and panic rose inside me. I had a horrible mental image of the white dog snapping up Roxy and breaking her in half like a twig.

  I rushed forward, ready to kick the shepherd away if it was attacking my dog. But as I approached and saw that the shepherd was only picking up the pink tennis ball, I skidded in the wet grass and fell face-first on the ground.

  Roxy danced around my head as I groaned and got up. The entire front of my shirt and jeans was stained a beautiful shade of green and brown. Roxy seemed to care more about me than the ball, which was being carried around by the shepherd as it danced around.

  I sighed. There was only one dog I knew who looked like that. And if his dog was here, that meant he wasn’t too far away.

  “Sheba, here.”

  My lip curled as Nash’s voice rang out, loud and clear over the patter of the rain. Sheba ran to him, sat in front of his feet and dropped the ball. My ball.

  I stood and glared at Nash. He glared right back.

  “What do you want?” I asked.

  Nash shrugged. With his legs spread and his shoulders squared, he looked larger than I remembered. “I always come here to train Sheba. I should be asking you the same thing.”

  Forget the ball. Just go home.

  I was too fucking stubborn to do that.

  “Give me my ball back,” I called firmly, not bothering to add please.

  Nash picked it up and examined it. The rain and mud made it look more brown than pink. He made no attempt to return it, which made me clench my fists. I really wasn’t in the mood to play mind games with him.

  If I was smart or maybe even less pissed off, I would have walked away and forgotten about the cheap dog toy. But it was the principle of it. Nash standing there, holding my possession, taunting me with it like some high school bully–which is exactly what he was. He hadn’t changed a day.

  He was still the cruel boy on the football team who spread a malicious rumor about his best friend and blamed me for it.

  And I was fucking sick and tired of it.

  “Give it back. Now,” I demanded.

  Thunder rumbled loudly. My clothes were fully soaked now. Rivulets of rain trickled down my face, and I felt my skin growing cold.

  “Or what?” Nash growled. The corner of his lip twitched, and his mouth split into a cruel smirk. “Your boyfriend’s not here to protect you this time.”

  “He’s not my boyfriend,” I snapped.

  I was too angry to hear his dark connotation. But as Nash approached me, my rage became tinged with fear. We were all alone on the field in the middle of a thunderstorm without another soul in sight.

  If something bad happened to me here, would anyone even know?

  I stepped back, suddenly intensely uncomfortable.

  The worst thing Nash did in high school was push me hard enough to bruise, I thought. He’s not that bad. He can’t be that bad.

  But on his face was a deeper, colder fury than there was ten years ago.

  Instinct took over. I turned to run, but Nash caught my arm, pulling me back with a hard yank. I gasped. Roxy started barking, consistent and high-pitched. Sheba began pacing nervously around us, apparently unsure of what to do.

  My heart leapt into my throat, beating sickeningly fast. It struck me just how much stronger Nash was than me. He was taller, wider, more muscular. I wouldn’t be able to fight back.

  My mind snapped to Roxy. Would he harm her? If things escalated into a fight, would his dog attack mine?

  The idea was too much to bear. The thought of Roxy getting hurt was worse than anything Nash could do to me.

  “Don’t hurt my dog,” I blurted out. “Please. Whatever you do.”

  A brief look of confusion crossed his face. “I don’t care about your dog.”

  I gritted my teeth, feeling the barest sense of relief.

  “Then what do you want?” I asked, fear and resentment thick in my blood. “You finally have me alone. You gonna hit me?”

  Nash’s hand tightened around my wrist like iron on flesh. There was no running anymore.

  And just like Nash said, Johnny wasn’t around to save me.

  Something in me snapped. Once the words started, I couldn’t hold them back. “There’s no one around, Nash. It’s just you and me here. If you want to beat the shit out of me for talking to Johnny, now’s your chance.” I barked a bitter laugh. “You can finally have the revenge you always wanted! Sorry for making you wait ten years!”

  Nash grabbed me closer to his chest and a startled yelp escaped me. He was too close. My chest was tight with fear, my breath coming out in short wheezes. His eyes glared bitterly and his mouth was set in a deep frown.

  “If you’re going to hit me, just do it!” I snapped. “Otherwise, leave me the fuck alone!”

  Nash yanked me, dragging my body towards his like a ragdoll, and I braced myself for the impact.

  Then I felt his mouth on mine.

  For a second I was too shocked to react. His attempt at a kiss was hard and wet and filled me with disgust. Bile rose in the back of my throat. I practically punched his chest with my free hand, scrabbling in my attempt to get away.

  Nash let go of me. When I pulled back, I gasped, both for cleansing air and from disbelief. I felt dirty, and the rain wasn’t help wash it away. It felt like I could vomit my own heart.

  “What the fuck is wrong with you?” I spat.

  Nash stared at me stupidly, like his body had acted of its own accord. Or maybe he was surprised that I pulled away, ruining the sex-fantasy version of himself he’d built in his mind. Whatever he was experiencing, I didn’t care. I grabbed my dog and bolted back to my car without waiting for an answer.

  27

  Johnny

  The house was a mess in the best way possible. I cleaned up most of trash left behind by the partygoers but left the rest au naturel. My jacket was tossed over the railing right by the door and my shoes were kicked off to the side. The furniture I’d purchased with Kaitlyn sat nicely in the living room and looked a little more lived-in after the party. Molly had even spilled a little pink splotch of vodka cream soda on one of the white pillows. She’d apologized profusely, but I kept secretly thinking about how much it added to the atmosphere. I didn’t know how to make the place seem more lived-in short of actually living here.

  In short, the house was perfect for the last stage of my scheme.

  I took a last stroll through the halls with my phone in hand. But when I came to the kitchen, I paused. My eyes strayed to the counter–the same counter I’d pinned Cain against before kissing him.

  My heart fluttered, but it wasn’t pleasant. Less butterflies and more like a sickly bird failing to fake flight.

  Cain hadn’t tried to contact me since the night of the party, which was fine with me. At least, I kept telling myself it was. I didn’t want to be the guy who strung him along for nothing. If Cain had known my ultimate plan was to leave Rosecreek and that everything between us was leading nowhere, it would have hurt him more in the end.

  It was better to nip it in the bud now before it bloomed.

  But every time I glanced in the direction of his house–and it was impossible not to, since it was right next door–the stinging pain returned, a thorn in my ribs.

  Just one more reason to move as soon as possible. When I left Rosecreek for good, I would never have to think about Cain Schwartz again.

  I ignored the unpleasant stirring in my gut and brought up the lawyer’s number on my phone.

  “Ms. Walker? This is Johnny Hunter. I think I’m ready to discuss the other half of the will.”

  She arrived right on time with a briefcase clutched in her hand. The click of her heels
echoed as she stepped into the house.

  “Good to see you, Johnathan,” she said, giving me a brief handshake. Her eyes roamed the front foyer and I caught the way she looked at my shoes and jacket.

  Good. Keep looking around like that.

  “How have you been? Good, I hope?” Ms. Walker asked as we walked towards the living room together.

  “Great, actually,” I said. “Work’s been steady, and I’m starting to get into a daily rhythm. Oh, and I even threw a party this past weekend.”

  Her brows rose in what I hoped was delight. “Really?”

  I gestured to the half-empty alcohol bottles lining the counter like decorations. Of course, they’d been accidentally left there, but she didn’t have to know that. There was also Kaitlyn’s tray of cookies sitting on the stove. Only about half were missing, even days later, because that woman really did bake about a thousand of them and a man could only eat so many chocolate chips.

  “Cookie?” I offered her with a grin. “My neighbor made them and I can’t eat them all.”

  Ms. Walker smiled but politely declined. She continued glancing around the open-concept kitchen and living room, no doubt noticing all the little details I left for her to discover. “Big lunch. Anyway, I don’t intend to be long. I think I’ve seen enough.”

  My hands clenched nervously at my sides. What did she mean by that? Had she already formed her opinion?

  “Let’s go upstairs,” she said.

  Ms. Walker strode into the hall and I followed, biting my lip in anticipation. I hoped she wasn’t dragging me there just to let me down again. Having a meltdown after her last visit wasn’t one of my proudest moments.

  But that had also been when Cain comforted me. He reached out to me in my moment of darkness and pulled me out.

  Stop thinking about Cain right now.

  As I forced him out of my mind, Ms. Walker stopped. We stood in front of the locked office. My heart began to race. When she turned to face me, she wore a pleasant smile.