Cards of Love: The Devil (Devil's Playground #1)(56)

I’m trying to wrap my head around what he’s saying and what it means, but Cain’s fifty steps ahead of me in what feels like a millisecond. “Failed to realize what exactly?”

“This whole time you thought I was your prey…but you were mine.” He pulls something out of his pocket. A small black cassette tape. “It was nice being fawned over, having my dick sucked whenever I wanted, and of course—having an alibi when I needed one. But our time together is over, Damien. There’s only room for one of us in this tank.”

I open my mouth to speak, but he presses a button on the phone and my voice fills the room.

“Well, before the pills, I would have re-wired an everyday household item...something simple…maybe a coffee maker or toaster. This way, they’d blame it on faulty wiring.”

“Blame what on faulty wiring?”

“The fire that would kill him.”

His smile is as cruel as he is. “Our paths might have crossed, but my future plans don’t include you.”

I stand up, which is a bad idea because the room is spinning. I’m trying to connect the dots…no that’s wrong. I’ve already connected the dots—it wasn’t hard—but my brain is trying to make up excuses as to why he did it.

Even though my heart already knows the truth.

This isn’t a mistake or a lapse in judgment. He recorded that conversation for one reason and one reason only.

To set me up to take the fall.

And that can only mean one thing. Cain never felt the same way for me as I do for him. He just wanted me to believe he did.

My partner. The object of my fascination…the person I thought was my reward for all the bad shit I’ve been through…is a traitor.

And I was nothing more than a love-sick pawn.

This whole time I thought Cain made me a better person…but it was only because I made him a worse one.

Just like my piranha who ended up a meal just moments prior. I didn’t realize I was in danger until it was too late.

The sound of the gun cocking is loud in the now quiet room. Cain’s not even shaking as he points it at me. If anything, he’s calm and collected.

He’s in total control. Blowing me off the face of this earth doesn’t impact him in the least.

And why should it…his body count is already up to three. What’s one more to a psychopath?

“You have three choices.” His eyes flash. “Option one—I can kill you and make it look like you took your own life because your guilt about being a murderer was starting to eat you alive.” He shrugs. “It’s not a bad way to go. People will still hate you, but at least they’ll know you felt remorse for your sins at the end.”

A surge of anger rushes through me and I press my forehead into the gun he’s holding against it. “What are you waiting for? Pull the fucking trigger.”

He’s already stripped me of everything I’ve ever cared about in the last five minutes…including my power and control. He might as well finish me off.

He clicks his tongue. “Option two—I could call Detective Trejo and tell him I stumbled upon a certain recording that I found in my brother’s car…and you can go to jail for the rest of your life.” He winks. “Come to think of it, you might like it there. It’s not all that different from your life now. Minus the fish tank of course. You’ll still have plenty of time to work out and fuck.”

I stay silent, the rage inside me waging war with the sharp pain of Cain’s betrayal.

“What’s option three?”

It doesn’t make sense why he’d give me another option when it’s clear there are only two.

His expression doesn’t change. “I’ll let you live…but it will be in torment. If you choose option three—you will walk out your front door in the next minute and never step foot in this town again, or even think about contacting me for the rest of your miserable life. Because if you do? I’m picking option one or two.”

Option three is the worst one of them all.

My throat burns. “Ca—

The sound of the gun firing makes my ears ring and for a moment, I’m thankful he shot me.

Only he didn’t. He shot the wall behind me. “Get the fuck out, Damien.”

I don’t move a muscle. If he’s going to break my heart and screw up my life, the least he can do is have the guts to end it on my terms.

Because I don’t want to live in the four walls of a prison cell without my freedom like one of my mother’s fish in captivity.

And I sure as fuck don’t want to live in a world where I can’t have him.

“Option one.”

For a second, I see something pass in his gaze, but then it’s gone when he reaches in his pocket with his free hand and pulls out his cell.

I watch in outrage as he brings it to his ear. “Hey, Detective Trejo. It’s Cain Carter. Listen—”

“I’ll leave.”

As usual. I’m at his mercy. He’s making the choice for me.

He hangs up the phone. “You have twenty seconds.”

Bending down, I pick up my shirt, holding out hope that he’ll tell me this is nothing more than a stupid joke and he just wanted to see how far I’d go for him.

“Cain.” Despite the gun he’s holding, I edge forward. As close as I can get to him. Maybe he needs to hear someone say it. Just like I do.