Loving Mr. Cane: Cane Series #3

by Williams, Shanora

  “I thought washing was only required if I left the house.” I bit into a gummy worm, shrugging.

  “Actually, now that I think about it, that’s true.” She sighed, taking the worms from me and digging in for a handful. “You could have called me, you know? Sent a text—anything instead of ignoring me.”

  “I’m sorry,” I murmured. “I’ve had my phone off for the past few weeks. Haven’t really wanted to talk to anyone.”

  She nodded. “It’s okay. I understand. Your mom told me about Kelly.” Her eyes stretched wide as she chewed. “I still can’t believe that happened. And then to know that you might not be able to have kids because of it.” She slid closer to me.

  I avoided her eyes.

  “Tell me how you feel,” Frank insisted, and I finally looked up at her.

  “It should be pretty clear how I feel. How would you feel?”

  “Honestly? I’d feel like killing her.”

  “Well, if prison wasn’t a consequence, I’d have done it already.”

  “I know. Fuck.” She dropped the pack of gummies. “I read in the newspaper that they aren’t taking the case to trial. The story isn’t even on the news anymore. That’s how quiet they’re keeping it. Anyway, someone vouched for her mental health, so it will be a quiet case. For all we know, she’ll strike a good deal and only have to do community service or something.”

  My eyes stretched. “What?”

  Frankie looked uneasy. “I—I thought you knew, K.J. They made it a bench trial a few days ago. No jury, just a judge. Your parents haven’t told you?”

  “No, they haven’t told me!”

  “I guess they didn’t want to upset you. But hey, she can’t bother you anymore, right? She would be stupid to come after you while her trail is so hot.”

  “She should be in prison for what she did to me,” I growled through my teeth. “She won’t suffer with community service or a stupid slap on the wrist. That’s bullshit, if she pleads mentally unstable.”

  “I know, but she’s rich and pretty, and from what your mom told me, her family has a lot of power. There’s never really any justice these days for people like them.” She lowered her gaze. “I didn’t tell you to upset you.” She paused, drawing imaginary circles on my comforter with the pad of her finger. “Have you talked to him? Cane?”

  I looked her over, then shook my head. “Not since the hospital.”

  “Are you upset with him about what happened?”

  I thought on it for a moment. “I don’t think it ever would have happened if he’d let her go the right way. He never broke up with her. Not only that, but there’s a lot I’ve learned about him since the stabbing. Cane isn’t who we think he is.”

  “What do you mean by that?”

  “I just mean that…he’s not safe to be around. Even Lora said he isn’t a good person, that it’s probably best if I stay away.”

  Frankie inhaled deeply before exhaling. She then kicked off her shoes and climbed up to where I was to sit beside me. “But what does that have to do with loving him?” she whispered, and my eyes shifted over to hers rapidly. “When you love someone, none of their flaws are supposed to matter. When you love them, you work through it, even if some of their flaws fucking suck. And as for the secrets, you just have to figure out if they’re worth making your own too.” She put on a faint smile, lowering her gaze. We were quiet a beat. I could hear the TV playing downstairs. Mom was watching The View.

  “I still love him, and I miss the hell out of him, but even if I saw him, it wouldn’t feel the same.”

  She sighed, nodding subtly. “Well, I did tell you to be careful, K.”

  “I know.” I put all my attention on her. “Are you ever going to tell me what’s going on with you?” I asked.

  “What do you mean?” Her eyes got bigger.

  “I mean…you’ve changed, Frankie. I’ve noticed since the last time I saw you. Your hair is…plain. Probably the plainest it’s been since we were kids,” I laughed, pinching a strand of her dark hair between my fingers. “And your eyes, Frank. They’re…hollow. Empty. Like something bad or crazy happened.”

  She pressed her lips, avoiding my eyes.

  “My mom says I lost some of my light since the incident, but if I have, at least you know why now,” I went on. “I’m your best friend, so I deserve to know what happened to your light, and why it became so dim.”

  She finally looked up at me, but her eyes were filled to the brim with tears. She bit them back though, blinking rapidly and sitting up higher, drawing her knees to her chest.

  “I told you it was because Mom—Aria—is starting to lose money. I mean, that was the main reason, and working all these hours is killing me.” She sighed, and it took me a second process who Aria was. She hadn’t used the name in years. Frankie had grown up calling her adopted mother, Mom, when her real name was Aria. Aria tried getting Frankie to stick with calling her by her real name, but she never did. After all, she was only four years old when she lost her real mother, who just so happened to be Aria’s best friend.

  Aria took Frankie in when the accident with her mother happened, raised her, and it changed things for Frankie. In my opinion, I think Frankie lived in denial her entire life and never accepted that her real mom was gone, so she insisted on calling Aria that as a replacement. It was her comfort and to be completely honest, I didn’t blame her for it.

  “She was getting so much money, but was wasting it all,” Frank went on. “I thought we were fine until she called me one day, asking to borrow a hundred bucks for the power bill. And it got worse from there. I finally called her on it, asking what was going on. She said the companies that had sponsored her before were looking for younger people—millennials. She was losing money and fans quickly. She’d even gotten a part-time job as a secretary for a travel agency, but what she made there wasn’t enough to cover all the bills.”

  “Wow. I’m so sorry, Frank.”

  “Meh, that’s just a part of it. The bigger issue is that she has cancer, and is no longer working at said job.”

  “What?” I gasped. “Oh my gosh.”

  “Yep. Pancreatic. Stage 2. She’s getting treatments, but lately she hasn’t been looking so good. She’s thinning out, losing hair. All she has is Clay and me.” When she said her last sentence, her face scrunched up, and her eyes filled with a familiar guilt.

  “What is it?” I murmured.

  She looked at me through the corner of her eye, then dropped her legs, raking her fingers through her hair. “Clay is thinking about dropping out of college and moving back in to take care of her. Can you believe that? He’s actually thinking about leaving a full scholarship behind and it pisses me off! He’s telling me all these crazy things, like how I need to stay in school because one of us has to make it.” Her eyes fell, her dark eyelashes touching her cheekbones. She was quiet for several seconds, running her fingers over her bangles. “Kandy, there’s something about Clay that I never told you….”

  “Something like what?”

  “Like…how we kissed before…”

  Holy shit.

  Holy. Shit!

  I held my hands up, like I was pausing the entire conversation. “Wait—with Clay? Your brother Clay?”

  “He’s only my brother by law, not blood,” she stated, like she’d practiced the statement a million times. “I’ve never felt a brotherly bond with him. Ever, and how could I? Technically, before I even moved in with Aria, we were friends before becoming family. At first I hated him, and then I warmed up to him, and then I hated him again for making me look so fucking stupid.” She rubbed the tip of her nose.

  “But how did that happen? The kiss?”

  “Ugh. I don’t know. It’s a lot. There have always been little signs here and there, but we never acted on them until we got older. Not only that, but the last thing I want to do is hurt Aria. The first time something happened was when I was seventeen. Clay was home for spring break and came into my room saying he wanted to wa
tch a movie on Netflix, and since I was the one who had the account, he needed the password. Well I refused to give it to him, so he did that stupid thing he always did and tried to play-wrestle with me. It was all fun and games as kids when we used to get into fights, but we were older by then. Hormonal.” She shrugged. “Anyway, he picked me up and dropped me on the bed and then he was on top of me. He was between my legs, and he had my wrists pinned to the bed. Like I said, we wrestled all the time, but the way he looked at me, and how close his mouth was to mine, it was just…different. He climbed off all quickly and then I gave him the password for my account, just to get him to leave.”

  “Wow,” I breathed. I don’t even know why I was so surprised. Frankie and Clay argued and fought often, and now that I thought about it, there was always something there that made them not seem so brotherly-sisterly. I mean, I grew up with Frank and always knew him as her brother by adoption, so I only saw Clay as her brother. I never had a sibling, so I suppose I couldn’t place it, but their bond was very unique. There was always more, and he was always very protective of her. Overly protective. “Were there other times?” I asked.

  “Yeah. The other times were more intense,” she went on. “There was one night when Clay had a spur-of-the-moment party at the house and had invited the whole football team and some dumb cheerleaders over. I think you had practice that night, so I didn’t bother you. Anyway, I’d been drinking during the party and had to go up to my room to change. Well, Clay came stumbling in my room with Irene.”

  “Ew, Irene?”

  “Yes, Irene Hall. The girl who sucks every guy’s dick. I don’t even know why she was there. Anyway, he came into my room, knowing damn well I was in there. I was changing clothes because some douche had spilled his drink all over my shirt and pants. I asked Clay what the hell he was doing in my room, and he had the nerve to tell me to get out of my own room so he could do shit with her.”

  “Oh my God, he didn’t!”

  “Yes, he did! I flipped the fuck out! I told Irene to get lost, and I guess he was pissed that he’d lost his free pass on getting head, so he slammed the door closed and got in my face. He told me I was always cock-blocking him and he was sick of it.” She rolled her eyes. “I told him that he does the same damn thing whenever I have a guy around—even at school. We got into this heated debate and I shoved him away, but he came closer, and before I knew it, his mouth was on mine. He started…kissing me. And the kisses were fucking torture and bliss, K.J. I’d never felt anything like it. It was so fucking wrong but so damn hot. And God,” she groaned, throwing her hands in the air, “I hate that I’m even saying all of this because it’s so freakin’ horrible! I mean, I could taste the alcohol on his breath. I can still remember the taste. Modelo Negro. He always drank that beer. The next thing I know, he was picking me up and pushing me against the wall. He started kissing my neck. He was hard and grinding on me. He kept saying how frustrating I was, and I kept telling him how irritating he was. We were still arguing while kissing and humping like dummies, and it was so fucked up. So, so fucked up. I mean, we grew up together, K.J. He should feel like a brother to me, but I wanted him to fuck me so badly. He almost did, but we got interrupted.” She whipped her head over to look at me, as if she forgot I was sitting there. “Is that bad?” she whispered.

  I couldn’t do much but look at her. “I, uh…I don’t know. Do you think it’s bad?”

  “Yes, it’s bad, K! Clay is—he’s supposed to be like family! I’m not supposed to want him! And imagine how Aria would feel!”

  “But…technically speaking, he’s not. Society makes you think it’s wrong because you’ve known him your whole life and because you got adopted into his family. I do understand how this could ruin things, though. Especially for Aria…but Clay is really, really hot…”

  “I know.” She groaned, pinching the bridge of her nose. “I feel so stupid. Clay and I have known each other since we were babies…and before I realized I was going to be his adopted sister, I had a stupid crush on him. All these years, I’ve tried to get rid of that feeling and face reality, but it doesn’t help that I actually know he’s not family, you know? I mean Aria always tells us, we’re family, to take care of one another, so she obviously wants us to stick to that family bond.”

  “Well, shit, Frankie! Why didn’t you tell me this when it first happened? I’m your best friend!”

  “This isn’t like your situation with Cane, okay? Clay is supposed to be my brother. Everyone knows him as my brother, even you. I didn’t want you judging me or thinking I was some slut or—”

  “You are not a slut,” I stated. God, I hated that word now. “You are my friend, and I love you. You didn’t have to keep that bottled up for so long.”

  “He also didn’t want me to say anything to anyone. Not even you.”

  “And you, Frankie Martin, listened?” I quirked a brow, smirking.

  “Yes, because he was right!” she laughed. “No one can know, okay? I wasn’t even supposed to tell you, so if you come around and he’s there, pretend things are still the same. Pretend he’s just Clay, my annoying older brother.”

  I nodded. “Got it.”

  She exhaled hard. “Feels good to have that off my chest now.”

  “I bet,” I giggled. “I’m glad you told me, Frank.” I picked the gummy worms up again, this time with a smile. “And you know what? I needed this. You.”

  “I know. That’s why I’m here.” She rested her head on my shoulder. “You’re a strong girl. One of the strongest, sincerest bitches I know, and if you really love Cane, don’t let your fears stop you. Trust me, your mind will feed on that fear, and it will be your biggest setback. Don’t let that fear control you.”

  “It’s hard not to be afraid, Frank. I mean, Cane is different. There’s so much that sets us apart.”

  “Well, how about you find the reasons that make you stick together?”

  “How am I supposed to do that?”

  She sighed, picking up her head. “You know, there’s this thing I learned in my psychology class. There was a girl who had gotten into a bad argument with her boyfriend, and she started randomly crying in class. My professor took it as a learning opportunity. On the board, he made two topics. On one side was ‘Bad Things.’ On the other side was ‘Good Things.’ He told the poor girl to come up and write down all the good things and the bad things, and then told her that if the bad outweighs the good, leave it alone. If the good outweighs the bad, see what you can do to heal the situation. So…I’m telling you now to make a list.”

  I let her words sink in, and after I told her I would, she changed the subject to work and college. After she heard from Mom, she came here just to see me, and I couldn’t thank her enough for skipping classes and possibly missing more important life lessons from her psychology professor, all for me. She truly was my best friend in the world.

  Around 11:00 p.m., Frankie gave me a big squeeze goodbye, and when she was gone, I sat on the bed, staring at my phone. I looked toward my laptop, the one Cane had given me, and then at the notebook that was sitting there. I had two options that night. I could forget about making that list and forget about Cane altogether, or I could make the list, and try to find some light in our darkness.

  I chose the latter.

  I hopped off the bed and sat in my computer chair. I created the “Bad Things” side and the “Good Things.” It was easy for me to write the bad. I had so much negativity swirling inside me—so much hate for what had happened—but realized none of it was directed at him. All of my hate was for Kelly, but Kelly had never determined our relationship. Why would I let what she’d done to me determine our status now?

  I wrote until my hand began to cramp and my eyes got tired. I checked the clock, and it was 3:00 a.m. I read over my list several times, and for the first time in a while, my heart blossomed.

  Bad Things:

  Can be a sarcastic asshole

  Too much baggage

  Crazy ex who wants t
o kill me

  Too many family secrets

  Gets jealous way too easily

  Work-a-holic

  Works for a cartel leader

  Hasn’t always been a good person

  Good Things:

  Makes me smile

  Good at giving gifts

  Great sex

  Big heart

  Treats me like I am special

  Makes me so, so happy

  Doesn’t want kids (good now that I can’t have any)

  Always ready to fight for me

  Tattoos

  His hugs are amazing

  He loves me

  I sat back in my chair, reading over the good and bad, surprised that the good outweighed it. Before, the bad was so strong—so intense that it was all I could focus on. I had overlooked all of the good. Why? Because I was afraid of what would come next. I was so focused on the bad that the good came close to meaning nothing…but there it was, right in front of me. His goodness shined bright, and I’m sure I’d missed a lot more, but it was there. Right in my face, the letters seared in my brain.

  Maybe there was something left to fight for…but even so, a part of me was still too afraid to go after it.

  Chapter Eight

  CANE

  Two Weeks Later

  “Are you really leaving today?” Lora stood between the frames of my bedroom door, watching me collect some paperwork from the desk.

  I looked around, holding my hands out. “Doesn’t it look like it?” I gestured to the empty room. Everything was gone except my desk, which I had used last night to finish up some work. I’d hired movers several days ago to take my belongings to the new home I bought in Charlotte, North Carolina. The new home was slightly bigger than the one in Atlanta, and I don’t know what had possessed me to buy it. It just felt…right.

  “You’re leaving so much behind, and really fast, Q.” She came into the room, folding her arms. “There’s too much up in the air. You don’t even know what’s going to happen to Kelly. They’ll probably call your lawyer, want you to testify.”