Paradise Found: Cain (Paradise #2)(85)

“No,” I hissed, twisting my head to look at him. “No, you’re nothing like him,” I assured. My eyes begged his face to look at me, but he refused. His own were trained on the redness that covered my bare hands and the knife sticking out of the back of his friend.

“I did this to him,” he muttered. A shaky hand came to his forehead, which he rubbed ceaselessly. My heart shattered to see the slightest weakness in a man so strong as Cain.

“Cain,” I spoke softly, “look at me.” He shook his head slowly left to right in refusal.

“Cain,” I demanded. “Look at me.”

My heart grew icy, as the glare that met my eyes was dark and unemotional. Emptiness filled them. I blinked at the fear that Cain Callahan was at the end of his rope. His body pulsed with suppressed anger. His skin prickled with the need to strike. If I didn’t know better, I would worry I’d be his next victim as he needed to lash out at someone.




After arriving at the emergency room, medical staff took over, and I was escorted to a bathroom to wash my hands. Covered in Kursch’s blood, I was given a doctor smock to wear with my jeans. I looked official but I felt helpless. My thoughts raced to the emotion within Cain at the prospect of losing Kursch. He was a strong force in their limited family. He loved Cain in a way no other adult had shown, and while he did nothing to prevent the beatings, he brought subtle comfort in acknowledging that they were wrong. He wasn’t soft with Cain, but he had been patient and understanding. He’d been kind. He understood that Cain had good in him. He understood Cain needed love. The urge to tell Cain again that I loved him almost choked me. He had to know that I would be here for him. If anything happened, I would be here for him from this day forward.

Cain was pacing the waiting area when I returned. Immediately, I walked up to him, prepared to envelop him in my arms, but he flinched from my touch. So deep in his thoughts, I’d actually startled him when I brushed his arm. He pulled back from me, staring at me like he didn’t recognize me.

“Cain?” My concern jumped to the worst of conclusions. He stepped back like my touch singed him.

“He’s being taken into surgery,” he said, rubbing the spot on his arm where I’d touched him. He fell silent after that.

“I love you,” I blurted in a desperate attempt to reach him, pull him out of his head. He continued to stare back at me, like I was a stranger.

“What’s happening with Kursch?” The timbre voice of Malik roused Cain, who leapt for him instantly. Tumbling down to the floor, plastic waiting room chairs crashed and clattered over the industrial tile. The crack of bone echoed and additional blood spilled. My attempts to grab for Cain were thwarted when arms circled my waist, holding me back. Security was pulling Cain off Malik.

“What the f*ck were you doing?” Cain screamed over the shoulder of the officer, who was repeatedly telling Cain to calm down.

“What the f*ck were you thinking?” Cain yelled louder, struggling with the hold by security. I tried to intervene.

“Cain, this isn’t helping Kursch,” I offered. I didn’t risk reaching for him, as he clearly didn’t want my touch.

“Shut up,” he spit at me, his eyes wild and solid black without recognition.

“Hey,” came a voice behind me, still holding me firm against his chest. The tattoos on his arm instantly let me know it was Abel preventing me from getting near Cain. He was also ready to shield me from him, if necessary. I didn’t want to be afraid of Cain.

“Answer me,” Cain demanded at a slowly rising Malik. Blood teemed from his nose, and he spit rudely on the floor.

“Okay, pal, out we go,” the officer emphasized, pushing back on Cain. The struggle was real. Cain wasn’t going willingly, but the security guard was able to hold his own against the anger in Cain.

“I had that coming,” Malik offered, wiping his nose roughly, blood dripping in delicate drops onto his t-shirt.

“You haven’t seen anything coming,” Cain belted, “until I’m done with you. You’ll go so far back to that street, they’ll pave over you,” he hissed.

“Cain,” I snapped. “You don’t mean that.”

He turned on me again; his glare so intense it struck me. Abel held me firmly against him, then shifted me to his side, ready to step between myself and Cain. Something in this stance made Cain snap his menace from Malik to Abel.

“Get your hands off of her,” he hissed, spit literally coming out of his mouth.

“Calm down,” Abel commanded, attempting to bring his brother down.

“Calm down?” Cain strained against the guard, who hadn’t given up holding Cain but wasn’t forcing him outside the entrance yet. “Calm the f*ck down? Our father just stabbed Kursch,” he swallowed forcefully, “And we just learned we have an older sister.” His eyes still remained wild and unseeing, but his focus was in the direction of Abel. “My wife was clearly kidnapped by some street trash,” he stated turning back to Malik, “and you have your hands all over her.”

It was my turn to be offended. The implication was clear. Cain wasn’t seeing what was before him. I was worried out of my mind for him, and he was barking at me, but that tone came filled with hurt. He was panicked. He couldn’t control this situation, and he couldn’t step into someone else’s place. He couldn’t cover for Kursch, like he’d done for Abel, or take care of him like he did for Evie. Cain was utterly helpless, in this moment, and his fear was making him overreact. It took all my intelligence to come to this conclusion, as I was shaken by the tone of his voice and the direction of his anger.