Cain

by Lane Hart

  Gabby was sexy as fuck on her knees with her pink lips stretched around my cock. She sucked me off so damn good. And the best part was, I think she even liked doing it.

  The pleasure overwhelmed me, making me forget all the important reasons why chasing a release could not only hurt me but Gabby too.

  Then it was too late.

  I was so far gone I couldn’t make her stop. As soon as my dick finished pulsing, I felt it…my entire body relaxing, going limp because it was well sated for the first time in almost a year since the last time I jerked off. That rage I feel in the cage from the pent-up hormones evaporated until I started thinking about how those few minutes of ecstasy could mean losing my next fight and Gabby taking her clothes off for men at Escapades.

  I flew off the handle and tossed the blame for my moment of weakness on Gabby. And yeah, I do think it’s partially her fault.

  She’s too fucking gorgeous and sweet and sexy. Sleeping in her bed every night with my fingers in her tight, wet pussy is making me crazy. I want to be inside of her so fucking bad I can’t stand it.

  The temptation is too great with what’s at stake.

  I can’t have it both ways.

  Either I can abstain from all forms of sex and train to be the best fighter I can be to protect her; or I can fuck her, which would mean fucking her over. There doesn’t seem to be any middle ground between those two ends of the spectrum.

  So while I hate that I was an asshole for yelling at her, like usual, it’s for the best if she’s pissed at me. When my dick’s not always hard for her, I can concentrate on what’s important — winning and keeping Gabby safe from nasty, gawking bastards.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Cain

  “Cain!” Vaughan yells, calling me over to him as soon as I walk into the gym.

  “What’s up?” I ask.

  “Mario just set your next fight, two weeks from Friday,” he says.

  “Already? I just fought last night,” I grumble in annoyance. “So who the hell is it?”

  “Robbie,” he says, nodding over in the asshole’s direction where he’s sparring in the ring with Cal.

  “Are you fucking kidding me?” I shout.

  “You know I don’t set them up, so don’t take your shit out on me,” our coach says in warning.

  “This is bullshit and Mario knows it!” I yell, wishing that rat bastard was here so I could plow my clenched fist into his face.

  “Watch your mouth,” Vaughan warns. “Don’t make things worse for yourself.”

  “Worse?” I repeat. “I’m gonna fucking lose,” I mutter as my heart races. “I can’t lose!”

  “No, you can’t,” Vaughan agrees on a heavy exhale. “Maybe you can talk to Robbie.”

  Ask Robbie to fall on his sword? Fuck, if anyone would agree to lose for Gabby, it would be her own damn brother, right? Surely he wouldn’t sentence her to the goddamn stage for a win.

  “Yeah, okay,” I agree.

  My hands are shaking so bad that it takes several tries to get the tape off of them. I wait until Cal leaves the ring before I approach Gabby’s brother.

  “Yo, Robbie,” I call out as I slip between the ropes.

  Spitting out his mouthpiece, he sneers at me. “What the fuck do you want?”

  “Mario is making us fight,” I tell him.

  “Yeah, I know,” he replies with a shrug.

  “And? You’re gonna lose, right?” I ask.

  His forehead wrinkles in confusion. “Why would I do that? My payday is twelve grand if I beat you, the only undefeated fighter,” he asks, pounding the boxing gloves covering his fists together in front of him.

  No way. He can’t be that stupid or selfish.

  “Fuck the money! You know what happens to Gabby if I lose!” I shout at him, both of my hands clenched tightly by my sides because I want to wrap them around his damn neck.

  “My sister’s a big girl now. If Mario wants her, he’s going to have her. There’s no point in you or me trying to protect her from him forever,” he grumbles.

  “She’s only eighteen and she’s a virgin, so she does need me to protect her. God knows you’ve never done it,” I tell him with a shove to his chest. “You’re gonna lose, asshole. One way or another.”

  He laughs in my face at my threat. “If you really think Mario will continue to honor some bullshit agreement he made with you, then you’re even stupider than I thought you were.”

  “Fuck this shit!” I say, climbing out of the ring before I throttle the bastard. I storm out of the building and head back to the apartment, done with that whole damn place for the day.

  How the hell am I supposed to tell Gabby I have to fight her brother and beat him? Or that if I lose because he’s a dickhead who doesn’t give a shit about her, that she’ll have to dance naked, and who the fuck knows what else, for Mario.

  I can’t lose this fight.

  But I’m pretty sure I can’t win it either.

  We’re so fucked, and Gabby has no idea how precarious her future is, practically balancing on the head of a goddamn needle.

  I’m an idiot for thinking that I could beat everyone for her. What did I really think? That love would make me a better fighter?

  And of all the times I need to have my shit together, my aggression and anger, my arms and legs tough rather than like jelly because of getting my dick sucked, it would be before the hardest fight yet. This must be the punishment I get for not stopping Gabby last night when she got on her knees.

  I don’t deserve to have her touch me, much less have her sexy mouth on me. Over the years, that’s probably why I always kept my distance from her, because I’m a no-good, white trash, piece of shit murderer, and she’s a sweet, innocent angel who deserves so much better.

  But I’ve never been strong enough to do right by Gabby and leave her the hell alone.

  That isn’t going to change anytime soon either.

  I would do absolutely anything to protect her.

  Even if it costs me my life…

  That’s when I realize exactly what the two of us need to do.

  I’m so damn happy to see Gabby’s home when I get back to the apartment. There’s a book in her lap as she studies like the good girl she is for exams. But then she glances over to the door and her eyes narrow into a glare when she sees it’s me standing in the foyer.

  Oh fuck. She’s still pissed at me for the shit I said and how I acted after the blowjob, as well she should be. I was a dick, and she didn’t deserve how I treated her.

  Well, it’s time I apologize.

  Without stopping or saying a word, I go over and rip the book right out of her hands and toss it to the floor so that I can pick her up and sit down with her on my lap. Reaching for her face, I bring it to mine, kissing her hard, desperately like I currently feel. At first she resists, but only for a heartbeat before she’s kissing me back just as eagerly.

  “I’m sorry, angel,” I eventually say against her lips. “That was all my shit I was upset about, and I shouldn’t have put it on you. It won’t ever happen again,” I promise.

  “Which part won’t happen again? The blowjob or you being a jerk?” she asks between kisses.

  I groan at the other major enticement for giving up fighting.

  “Just the jerk part,” I tell her, pulling her down on my lap until the crotch of her jeans rubs against my erection.

  “You’re gonna let me…do that again?” she asks, grinding down on my hard bulge.

  “Yes. I’ll let you do anything and everything,” I reply. “But only if you’ll leave town with me. Just you and me.”

  “What?” Gabby reels back and asks.

  “I’ve got a few grand saved. It’ll be enough for our bus tickets and rent for a new apartment.”

  “You’re serious?” she asks, arching one eyebrow in disbelief. “I thought you said that we can’t leave. That Mario will find us and hurt us.”

  “That’s a fucking chance we’ll have to take,” I tell
her, knowing she’s screwed if we stay. Mario will use her and fuck her, strip her naked in front of nasty bastards and sell her body to the highest bidder every night.

  “I can’t just up and leave,” she says. “Robbie’s here. Do you expect me to run away from my own brother?”

  “Yes,” I tell her, but I withhold the reason why. “He doesn’t care about you, Gabby. He forgot your birthday and didn’t give a shit where you would live after you turned eighteen. And he sure as fuck doesn’t care what happens to you at Escapades.”

  “Escapades isn’t that bad,” she says. “All I do is serve drinks, and the tips are great.”

  “Do you know what the dancers have to do most nights?” I ask her.

  “I’ve walked in on a few things and usually see them leaving with guys,” Gabby answers with a shrug.

  “Right, because those guys pay Mario to let them take the girls home and fuck them. If they get too worked up at the club, he could get shut down, so he sells them to the highest bidder every night.”

  “No way,” she huffs. “The girls look happy…”

  “They’re not happy. They have to do that shit. Mario may pay them half of what he gets, but most are drug addicts.”

  “I don’t believe that.”

  “It’s the fucking truth!” I yell at her. “And if you stay there…you’ll end up like the rest of them.”

  “I don’t understand,” she mutters, her forehead creased in thought. “Why would I do any of that nasty shit…”

  “Because your brother sold you to Scarfone.”

  Gabby stares at me slack-jawed and silent for a moment before she shouts back, “Bullshit!” Scrambling up and off of my lap, she says, “Robbie wouldn’t…”

  “He sold you. That’s how you ended up at that house with me three years ago! And that’s why Mario owns you!”

  “No, that’s not true,” she says, pacing around the living room while continuing to shake her head in denial. “Robbie was going to fight, and girls aren’t allowed in the dorms.”

  “Yeah, and you think they just agreed to give you food and shelter for free?” I ask her, hating to see her hurt but needing her to understand that the two of us have to leave town. “The young girls who end up there are sold by men. And when they turn eighteen, they have to sell their bodies at the club as payback.”

  Gabby’s feet stop abruptly in understanding. “Is that why you and the guys all fight?”

  “Yes! No one gets to stay for free. We all owe a debt to Scarfone, and then Mario when he took over for him. Three years for me; four for you.”

  “But I haven’t… I’m just a waitress…”

  Taking a deep breath, I decide to finally give her the truth. “Mario made a deal with me.”

  “A deal with you?” Gabby repeats. “One that had to do with me?”

  “Yes. If I agreed to fight, he would keep you off the stage,” I explain.

  “Oh, my God!” she gasps, slapping her hand over her mouth. “That’s why…that’s the reason you gave up on your dream of tattooing? Because of me?”

  I give a nod in the affirmative and then cringe when the first tear falls down her cheek.

  “Why? Why would you do that?” she asks as if it’s not obvious.

  “I care about you, always have,” I tell her, choking on the three words that I feel but can’t seem to admit aloud. “You deserve better than that life.”

  “And you don’t?” she huffs. “I didn’t want this life of fighting for you! I would’ve done anything for you to have your dream!” she says through the tears.

  “My dream was nothing compared to the hell you would’ve faced. But I don’t think I can protect you much longer,” I admit. “We need to leave. Now. Tonight.”

  “No,” she says. “I can’t put you at risk like that for me.”

  “The risk is worth it!” I tell her. “Please, Gabby. If you care about me, then come with me.”

  “I do care about you,” she says as she backs away. “That’s why I can’t let you sacrifice anything else for me.”

  Without another word, she turns and walks out the front door.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Gabby

  Marching into the gym and up to my brother, who is talking to some of the other fighters, I jerk him by his arm to turn him to face me and ask, “Is it true?”

  “Is what true?” he asks, eyes cutting over to the guys listening to us.

  “Did you sell me?” I ask him point blank.

  “That motherfucker!” Robbie grumbles. “Don’t let Cain fill your head with bullshit, Gabby. I didn’t sell you. In fact, I’ve been paying Mario for you the last few years out of all my winnings.”

  God, my head feels like it’s gonna explode. Cain tells me one thing, and then Robbie says another. Who am I supposed to believe — the man I love or my brother?

  “You need to stay away from Cain,” Robbie says.

  “That’s not gonna happen,” I tell him without any hesitancy.

  “Cain is a goddamn liar and even worse, he’s a murderer.”

  “No, he’s not,” I reply with a scoff and a roll of my eyes. “That’s absurd, Robbie.”

  “I’m serious, Gabby. He’s dangerous. Why do you think he ended up at the house, an orphan with nowhere else to go?”

  “He ran away from home after his mom died,” I explain.

  “Oh, he ran away from home, all right,” Robbie remarks. “After he set the fucker on fire with his mom’s boyfriend still inside!”

  Shaking my head in denial, I say, “I don’t believe that. If there was a fire…well, it must have been an accident.”

  “It wasn’t an accident. Cain killed a man. He’s dangerous, and you need to stay the fuck away from him!”

  “You know what, I’ve heard enough bullshit for one night,” I tell my brother. “I will find out the truth, and if you lied to me…” I warn him.

  “I'm not lying to you, but Cain is,” Robbie says before I turn around and walk out of the gym, even more confused and hurt than when I first walked through the door.

  …

  Cain

  Ever since Gabby got back to the apartment after, I assume, she went and talked to her scumbag brother, she’s been quiet, withdrawn, tucked away in bed. It’s not just me getting the cold shoulder either.

  At our small dinner table, Gabby came and sat down with us but ate her grilled chicken and vegetables in silence, barely saying a word even when Knox tried to get a rise out of her.

  “I’m going to bed,” Gabby stands up and announces at six o’clock. The sun is still up outside and will be for a couple more hours.

  “Already?” I drop my fork to ask.

  “Yeah,” she answers on a long sigh before raising her eyes to mine. “You coming to bed later?”

  She wants to know if I’m sticking to last night’s argument when I told her I would be sleeping in my own bed from now on.

  “Definitely, angel. I’ll be in soon,” I tell her, because I’m running out of time before the fight and need to keep trying to convince her to leave with me every chance I can get.

  The bedroom door shuts behind her and then Knox asks, “What crawled up her ass?”

  “I tried to get her to run away with me,” I tell him and Ivan.

  “Why? Are you suicidal?” Ivan asks.

  “No, but the chance of death beats the alternative,” I mutter. Propping my elbows on the table, I scrub my hands over my face. “I have to fight Robbie.”

  “Fuck.”

  “Damn.”

  “That’s what I said too,” I reply. “So I think Gabby and I need to go and take our chances hiding.”

  “I’ve got a Glock with a silencer if you need protection,” Ivan informs us casually between bites of his broccoli.

  Knox and I stare at each other in shock for several silent moments before either of us can figure out a response to that news flash.

  “What the fuck are you doing with a Glock?” I ask Ivan.

  �
��And one with a goddamn silencer?” Knox adds.

  Shrugging, Ivan takes a sip from his glass of water before he says calmly, “One day I’m gonna find and kill the fucker who murdered my mom. But you can borrow it until I need it.”

  “Are you serious?” I ask him. Ivan is a man of few words and not much of a sense of humor, so I don’t think he’s joking around with us right now.

  “Yep,” he answers with a nod.

  Jeez, I had no idea that his mother was killed. After all these years, living with these two guys, I was worried about what they would think if they found out about my sordid past, and now Ivan just came right out and told us he plans to kill someone.

  “Wow,” Knox says. “I knew you had a few screws loose, but I didn’t take you for the bang-bang type of dude.”

  “Show us,” I tell him, curious to see the weapon.

  “Sure. It’s under the floorboards in my room,” Ivan says before he pushes back his chair from the table and heads in that direction.

  “Should we be worried about him?” Knox leans across the table and whispers to me.

  “Nah, he’s smart. If he ever kills anyone, he won’t get caught,” I tell him with a grin.

  “That’s not exactly reassuring,” Knox replies before we both get to our feet and follow Ivan to his room.

  Inside, he’s kneeling on the floor beside his bed, using a knife to pry up one of the boards. After popping it loose, Ivan lifts the board with one hand and reaches inside the opening with the other, pulling out a big, black gun.

  “It’s not loaded,” Ivan informs us before he hands the gun to Knox, who examines it, then passes the heavy piece to me. “In fact, I don’t have any bullets yet.”

  “But you wanted to have the gun on standby because there’s a waiting period?” Knox asks.

  “Yep.”

  “Wow,” I mutter as I turn the weapon over in my hand and then hold it up, aiming like I’m gonna shoot it. I had no fucking idea one of my best friends and roommates was packing heat for the purpose of killing someone.

  “Were you ever gonna tell us or just do it one day?” Knox asks Ivan. He crosses his arms over his chest, the disapproval obvious on his usually happy face.