“We’ve got her,” I heard my dad murmur, and before I knew it, Cane’s arms were gone. His scent had faded. I cried with my hands in my face for a while, even as a new set of even stronger arms wrapped around me. I don’t know how much time passed before I looked up and realized that only my parents were in the room.
Cane was gone, and once again, my heart was broken.
Chapter Four
CANE
Heartbreak.
I’d never experienced it until that moment. The feeling couldn’t be described, only felt. I always heard about the monstrosity of a broken heart—that it leaves you helpless and hopeless, completely broken inside and numb on the outside. Anyone who hasn’t experienced it won’t know what it’s like. Anyone who has, knows that it will tear you the fuck up.
A heart is already fragile, vulnerable, but a broken heart comes with a dollop of pain and a heavy sprinkle of misery.
I went home that night and stared at the blood on my bedroom floor. It had gotten darker. The house was so much quieter, and my thoughts were so fucking loud. I couldn’t stand it.
I rushed back downstairs, grabbing the mop bucket from the pantry that I’d never touched before and filling it with hot water. I rushed to the laundry room and dumped some bleach into it, snatched up a towel and a sponge, and then went up to my room again.
The cops had already come by to check for evidence and get their DNA samples. All that was left was a mess—a reminder of what I’d lost. Not only Kandy, but a baby. My fucking baby. She was only nineteen years old, and I’d gotten her pregnant, then she was stabbed because of me. Our relationship had cost her so much. She was right.
I dropped to my knees and scrubbed.
Scrubbed.
Scrubbed even harder.
I scrubbed so hard that my hands reddened from the action, and my muscles locked to keep balance. Before I could stop myself, a roar had ripped through me. It bellowed, echoing throughout the house, down every hallway and bouncing off the walls. The sounds closed me in and, defeated, I dropped the blood-stained sponge into the bucket, watching the crimson stain bloom in the water, tainting it.
I huffed hard, eyes falling. The floor was clean. Hardly a trace of any blood left.
I thought it would satisfy me, but it only reminded me of my reality.
Kandy was done with me for good, and her family had been finished with me long before that.
I didn’t know when I would see her again, but what I did know was that I couldn’t stay in this house anymore. I couldn’t stay in this city. There was nothing left for me here.
After the investigation was over, I had to leave Atlanta behind for good.
Chapter Five
KANDY
The detective returned the following morning, a woman trailing in behind him. The questions were way worse this time around, and they still hadn’t found Kelly.
Where could she have gone that quickly? The detectives had confiscated my phone, so I had no idea if Cane was trying to get in touch with me or not. As badly as my heart was hurting, I did wonder if he was okay.
Two days later, I was clear to check out. Mom pushed me in a wheelchair to get to the exit and Dad was parked in front of the hospital, watching us come toward him when we got closer. He put on a faint smile and said, “I got it,” to Mom, before walking around the wheelchair and gripping the handles. He helped me get into the front seat of the car, but hunching over was beyond excruciating, despite the high dosage of pain meds my doctor had prescribed. According to my doctor, Kelly had used a tremendous amount of force with her blow, to have stabbed me deep enough to puncture my uterus. It almost felt like a phantom version of that knife was still penetrating me. Yes, it hurt that bad.
“You okay?” Dad asked as he buckled in. Mom was sitting in the backseat.
I nodded. “I’m okay.”
With a bob of his head, Dad took off. The ride was mostly quiet. Some old school music played softly, which soothed the awkward void. It was a relief when we’d made it home. I wanted nothing more than to curl up in my bed after being cooped up in that hospital room for two whole days with my parents breathing all over me. Don’t get me wrong, I loved that they were there for me and that they cared, but it became overwhelming having them make every single decision for me, like I didn’t have a mind of my own.
When Dad pulled into the driveway of our house, he parked and killed the engine of the car, then rushed around to the passenger door to help me out. “Want me to carry you up?” I looked into his eyes and realized he was dead serious.
“Uh, no, Dad. It’s okay. Just help me walk up?”
“Yeah.” He held onto my midsection, making sure to avoid my wound, and took slow steps with me until we made it to the door. Mom was already inside, waiting at the threshold. She gave me a sympathetic smile, and I forced one back before turning and heading up the stairs with Dad still at my side.
“Probably feels good to be out of that hospital, huh?” he asked as we entered my bedroom.
“Yeah. I was getting sick of the Jell-O.”
He chuckled and helped me sit on the edge my bed. “You hungry? Thirsty?”
“I’m good right now, but thanks.”
“Okay.” He took a step back, shifting on his feet. “Oh, before I forget.” Reaching into his back pocket, he pulled out a cellphone with a white and pink case, then handed it to me. I smiled at him. “They looked, but said they didn’t find much of anything. They were going to return it tomorrow, but I went up to the station and grabbed it today. Phone’s all yours again.”
“Thanks, Dad.”
He turned for the door. “If you need anything, text me or your mom. We don’t want you walking up and down the stairs until you’re feeling better.”
“I will.”
He lingered, like he always did when he had more to say. Finally, he manned up to his feelings and faced me, then marched my way. He collected me into his arms, holding onto the back of my head while kissing the top of it. It was sudden, but it was comforting, and I clung to his arms.
“I was scared as hell, Kandy,” he confessed. “I know it may seem like I was more angry than anything, but I wasn’t. I was terrified. I saw all that blood and thought I was going to lose you.”
The rims of my eyes burned. “I’m here, Dad. It’s okay.”
“I know.” He kissed the top of my head again. “You’re here now, where you belong. Anything you need, I’ll get it for you.” He pulled back, but held my face in his hands, his eyes red-rimmed and damp. “Get some rest, okay?”
“Kay.”
Finally pulling away, he walked to the door, but this time didn’t stop or linger. He walked right out, cracking the door behind him. I took a look around my room—the Justin Timberlake poster on the wall to my left, and the collage board on the wall behind me, covered with photos of me and Frankie, my parents, and even a few of my parents, me, and Cane when we used to have dinner. I focused on each picture of Cane, and in each one he had that subtle smile and spark in his eyes, like he was content with where he was. I was certain he didn’t feel that way anymore.
I heard murmuring outside my door and turned to hear better.
“Think she’ll be okay?” Mom whispered.
“She’ll be fine,” Dad assured her. “Just give her some space and time.”
“What if Cane wants to see her again?” Her voice was full of concern.
“He’s not setting foot in my house,” Dad grumbled, then the whispering drifted as they went downstairs.
I laid down on my side, staring ahead at the window across from me as a tear slid over the bridge of my nose. I didn’t deserve this place. My parents were out there, willing to do literally anything for me, and I’d chosen Cane over them, not even realizing what all he was capable of or all he had in store.
Dumb and naive, that’s what I was. I’d jumped the gun and now I was suffering the consequences of my actions. I brought a pillow in front of me and pressed my face into it, stifling my s
obs. I wanted to wail, but also didn’t want my parents to hear me.
What was my life now? What was my purpose? I no longer had school, I didn’t have a job, and the man I loved seemed like a complete stranger, with a life that was built on lies.
I wish I could say that time would ease my pain, but it didn’t. Each day was worse than before. I had dreams about Cane. Nightmares about the stabbing. I even had a dream that transitioned into a nightmare, only this time, Cane was the one holding the knife. I woke up screaming for help every night, and Mom would rush into the room to hold me until I fell asleep again. I felt awful, not only for what I was going through, but for what my parents had to go through because of my irrational, hasty decisions. If I hadn’t walked out on them that night, this never would have happened.
Eventually, I became numb to it all—the nightmares, the guilt. The medicine I took would knock me out cold, so I took more and more of it. It also made me lose my appetite, so the dinner Mom would bring to my room, on my favorite blue tray, would remain untouched. She noticed, I’m sure. I saw the way she looked at me when she came in each morning to take the old food out.
Per doctor’s orders, Dad helped me walk back and forth through the hallway to restore my strength. After a few days, he’d help me walk up and down the stairs, just so my body could get used to the activity again. Eventually, walking up and down the stairs wasn’t so bad, I just had to do it slowly. Mom wanted me to start coming down for dinner and I did, but I couldn’t help staring at the empty seat at the end of the table—the seat that was only a few inches away, where he used to smile and laugh and tease me. My chest tightened, and I looked up, realizing Mom was staring right at me.
“You okay, honey?”
I nodded, pushing my lips together.
Her eyes dropped down to my plate. “You’ve barely touched your food, Kandy.”
I studied the broccoli, mashed potatoes, and baked chicken briefly before pulling my eyes up. “I’m not that hungry.”
“Kandy, you have to eat,” she urged.
“You really do,” Dad cut in, and my eyes swung over to him. He had his uniform on today. He’d taken the first two weeks off just to be home with me. “Your mother said she’s been bringing food to your room, and you haven’t eaten any of it.”
I shrugged. “I don’t know what you want me to say. I’m not hungry. I guess it’s the meds.”
“Well, should we take you back, have them prescribe you something else? You have to eat something, Kandy. What about that spaghetti you like so much?” Mom asked.
Spaghetti…
Shit.
The thought of it made my eyes burn. I was going to cook spaghetti for Cane before Dad saw us in the parking lot of the grocery store…before I had to come back here. That was one of the best days we’d had—being together after everything had unraveled. Holding hands in public. Not giving a damn about reality and getting caught up in our own little world. Why couldn’t things go back to the way they used to be?
“Kandy?” Dad called, but his voice was nothing more than muffled noise to me. The tears I’d been biting back trickled down my cheeks, hot and thick. Dropping my fork, I pushed back from the table and stood.
“Going to my room,” I announced, and took off as they both called after me, desperate and confused.
I took the stairs as quickly as my body would allow and rushed into my room, closing the door and locking it behind me. I grabbed my phone and then curled up on the bed.
I knew it wouldn’t have been wise to text Cane after what I’d told him at the hospital. The thought of it made my heart ache, but there was one other person I could contact to see how he was doing.
Lora.
Chapter Six
KANDY
The phone only rang three times before she answered.
“Kandy?” She sounded like she was out of breath.
I sat up completely. “Oh my God, Lora?” I was so relieved to hear her voice. “I’m surprised you answered.”
“Surprised? Why? I’m glad to hear from you! What’s going on?”
“Um…other than recovering from a near-homicidal experience?” I forced a laugh.
“Yeah, Cane told me about what that crazy bitch did to you. I’m so sorry that happened to you, Kandy.”
I shut my eyes, but the tears fell anyway. I swiped them away with the back of my arm before reopening my eyes and sucking in a deep breath. “Have you, uh…have you talked to Cane much?”
“I have here and there. He’s mostly been at work. Hardly showing up at home and hasn’t really been calling. I think he’s trying to avoid being in the house because of the press. They’ve been camped out behind the gates, trying to take pictures and figure out who the stabbed girl was.”
“Oh. Yeah, my parents don’t want people knowing.”
“Understandable.” There was a brief silence. “He’s…not doing well, Kandy.”
I sat up a little higher. “What do you mean?”
“I mean…well, for example,” she sighed. “I went to his office to bring him lunch. He sucks at taking care of himself when he’s stressed. Anyway, I brought him lunch and noticed a lot of his suits and pants folded in the corner. There were food containers everywhere. It’s like he’s been sleeping there every night. I know he’s trying to avoid the press, but I think he’s afraid to go back to that house, period.”
“Because of Kelly?”
“What? No! God, no. Because of the memories, I guess. He told me that moment replays in his head over and over again—like he’s being forced to watch it happen, just so he can know how much he fucked up by not stopping Kelly in time. He feels guilty, like it’s his fault.”
I swallowed hard, lowering my gaze. “It wasn’t his fault. Both of us knew the risks involved. We knew Kelly wasn’t all there. She moved too fast for either of us to realize.”
“They caught her; did you know?”
I was shocked to hear that. “They did?”
“Yeah. Your parents should know. Have they not told you?”
“No…they actually haven’t updated me about any of it since we left the hospital. They’re being very overbearing, treating me like a baby again.”
“Understandable,” she stated bluntly. “Their only daughter was stabbed by some madwoman who is clearly dick-whipped. I would be the same way.”
I sighed. “Did Cane tell you anything…about me?”
“What exactly?”
My bottom lip trembled. “He came to the hospital…I told him I needed time. Space.”
“Ohh.” She said it like she’d come to the realization of something. “That’s why he’s being like this. He’s avoiding the issue. Same shit he always does when he feels like he’s lost control.”
“I didn’t mean for him to feel this way. I’m just…I’m scared, Lora.” My voice cracked. “He said he knew that—that guy that was on the news. Said he was coming, and that it wasn’t safe, and then that shit with Kelly happened and I just—I kept thinking about it, and it freaked me out more and more—”
“Wait…what guy are you talking about?” she demanded.
“I think his name was Jefe or something like that. Some guy that the cops are looking for.”
“Shit! He should not have told you about him. What the hell was he thinking?”
“Why not?”
“Because he’s fucking insane. And if he finds out that you know who he is and that he’s coming, that’s not going to be good, Kandy. That guy is—he’s a monster. Okay? He’s ruthless. If anyone stands in his way he has no problem making that person disappear. Do you get what I’m telling you?”
“I, uh…I think so.”
“Listen, maybe it’s a good thing you told Cane that you needed space. It gives a solid reason for you not to be associated with Cane, and Cane can be stubborn sometimes, especially about the things he wants. You don’t need to be around when that guy shows up. Okay? You need to stay far away.”
“Okay. I will.” I swallowed h
ard. “Lora?”
“Yeah?”
“Cane isn’t a good person, is he?”
She was quiet for a really long time. So long that I thought she’d hung up. “Cane has a good heart—loves harder than a lot of people—but he has never been a good person in the way you mean, and I’m sorry you had to find out the hard way.”
My heart dropped to my stomach. That wasn’t the answer I wanted to hear, not by a long shot.
"In the beginning, I told him it wasn’t wise to get close to your dad," she went on. "He was a cop, and we didn’t know much about him other than the fact that he was good at his job and had saved our Mom’s life, but of course he didn’t listen. Cane thought he was changing—becoming this great person who had been forgiven of all of his sins, just because he'd made a best friend." She sighed. "He hides it well, Kandy, but Cane has done some fucked-up things that I’m sure he isn’t proud of, just to be where he is now. He wants to be the good guy so, so much…but we weren’t born to be good people, and my biggest fear is that he has forgotten that."
God. Of course. Of course that was her response.
I wanted there to be hope—a reason for me to hold on—but hearing it from his own sister was proof enough that I needed to stay away.
“I guess it’s a good thing he’s leaving.”
My brows dipped. “Wait, what? Leaving? To go where?”
“He bought new headquarters in Charlotte several weeks ago. He wasn’t going to move his office until the summer, but with all this stuff going on, I guess he’s ready to go sooner. He said he’d mentioned it to you.”
“Yeah, but he never said when.” I couldn’t believe what I was hearing.
“He hasn’t bought a house or anything yet. He’s only moving his office right now, getting settled in to work there. He’ll most likely commute back and forth for a while. I’m sure he will get in touch with you if he has any other plans, Kandy. He’s probably just trying to find the right words…the right time.”
Loving Mr. Cane: Cane Series #3 Page 3