The Wrath of Cain

“No, Calla. You can do this. Just walk in there and be nice. He has to want this over just as much as you do.”


The sound of my own voice and words calms me. I glance at myself one more time in the mirror. My long, dark hair is flat-ironed straight. My greenish-blue eyes are made up with a sultry look, and my tight, red pencil skirt and low-buttoned white sleeveless shirt make me feel like a badass. Top it all off with my black Jimmy Choo stilettos and I am one hell of knock out, if I do say so myself.

Just like last time, I pull up to the gate, which is heavily guarded. My eyes bulge when the biggest man I have ever seen taps a gun on my window. There are tattoos up and down his arms, and a colorful snake tattoo that looks real drapes around his neck, its mouth covering his right cheek, hanging open as if ready to strike.

I’m so freaked out I’m unable to move. I’m studying to be a lawyer, for God’s sake. I shouldn’t be intimidated by this man, but I don’t like the deeply entrenched feeling I’m getting in the pit of my stomach that something terribly wrong is happening around here. What the hell has Cain done with this place?

I jump clear out of my seat when his gravelly voice crashes through my window as if he were sitting right next to me.

“This isn’t a carpool parking spot, little mama. Get the fuck out of here.”

He taps my window one more time then turns his bulky frame away from me. My hands continue to shake when I lower the window just a crack.

“I’m here to see Cain,” I squeak.

He stops but never turns back around.

“Is that so? Boss man went and got himself a high class hooker instead of dipping his dick into that Emerald whore, huh? Well, he never told me about you... so like I said, get the fuck out of here.”

Two steps is all this big bear of a man gets before my fear turns into full-fledged anger. My heart goes from cold to glacial knowing Cain’s still with her.

“Look, you son of a bitch. I am not a hooker. Now do whatever the fuck you do when someone is here to see your so called ‘boss man,’ and tell him his wife is here.”

“The fuck?” He jerks his head back.

“You heard me, you damn moron. Now call him.”

I cross my arms over my breasts, drawing his stare directly there.

“You’re Calla?” he asks curiously.

That’s odd, and instantly has me on edge again. How does he know my name and who I am?

“Yes,” I spit out.

“And how did you know my name?”

“Well, Jesus Christ. He’s a damn fucking fool. And to answer your question, all of us around here know who you are.”

“Come again?”

“Look, woman. I don’t have time to stand here and talk to you. My shift is over. I want a cold beer and my wife. So I’ll let you in. Cain should be in his office. Or in the bar. Anything else you want to know you can talk to him, but…”

He steps into my space.

“Cain may look like a sweet man on the outside with his clean-cut self, but he’s definitely not the same man you once knew. He’s one cold-hearted son of a bitch. Whatever went down between the two of you years ago did a number on him. Take my advice, sweet cheeks. A lot of things have changed around here, and this isn’t the place for someone like you. Now that’s all I’m gonna say.”

He turns his back to me again and I swallow the lump in my throat as his callous words about Cain settle in my head. Hearing the gate creak open, I bite back the big ‘Fuck you, too’ I’m dying to deliver to him and climb back into my car, praying for God to help me get the hell in and out of here as fast as I can.





Chapter Two


Calla




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