Paradise Found: Cain (Paradise #2)(9)

“Why didn’t you sign the papers?” he asked abruptly. His question was like a sharp prick to the heart; a pin popping a balloon, and I withered away from him.

“What papers?”

“The divorce papers.”

“Divorce?” I choked. “We weren’t legitimately married,” I laughed humorlessly.

“Sofie, yes, we were,” he said definitively, staring at me. His dark eyes opened wider. “We are,” he added for emphasis.

I sat up instantly, dragging the sheet haphazardly with me to cover my chest. We couldn’t be. That night, he’d had too much to drink, and the diamond ring was pawned off a divorcee in the bar. It was all a rouse. The ceremony. The dance. The vows. It was all pretend; a means to justify the end - a night of bliss.

“We…we can’t be.”

“We are. That woman was an ordained minister in the state of California. She filed the papers the next day.”

“I… she…what?” The reality was slow to process. Married? To Cain Callahan? For real? It had been almost a year. It couldn’t be possible.

“You really didn’t know?” he asked. I couldn’t look at him as his voice drifted softer. I wiped a hand through my messy hair and held it at the base of my neck. My knees pulled up, and I began to curl into myself, just like I’d done when he left me behind that terrible morning. When his father called me a slut, then kicked me out of his room, and Cain did nothing to defend me. He didn’t even come after me.

“I had no idea,” I whispered.

There was a long silent pause between us, as I tried to digest what he was telling me. The fantasy of our marriage and the reality of his request to divorce were in juxtaposition.

“So you filed for divorce?” I swallowed hard. It seemed worse than a fake marriage.

“I sent the papers to the vineyard address.”

“I don’t live there,” I replied nonchalantly. “Plus I’d been away.”

“I know,” he said quietly. “But you worked there. It was the only address I had,” he stated, his voice rough. That’s how we met. I was working at my grandparents’ vineyard for the weekend, trying to earn cash for my long awaited semester abroad in Italy; the romantic place I joked would be perfect for our false honeymoon. I ended up going alone, but that had always been the plan anyway.

He sat up suddenly. Sensing his hand reaching for me, I flinched, expecting him to touch me. He froze. We stared at one another for a long moment, then ever so slowly the cobra-tattooed arm stretched toward me. He drew the sheet higher up, over my back as unbeknownst to me, it had slipped down my body. I remained still, confused at the sudden tender gesture. After covering me, he brushed back my hair before he spoke: “I need to go. I’ll be back soon to take us home.”





I had to see my father. Then I had to get Sofie out of Vegas. I’d been summoned to meet Atom in his suite that morning. After his heated attack on me the night before, I had ignored him. He wasn’t pleased with the outcome of the fight with Abel, my younger brother. It was my destiny to win. I, however, had other plans.

My father nearly jumped out of his skin when he first learned my brother was fighting. He came almost completely undone when the suggestion to fight one another was offered. My father and his relationship with Abel had been less than ideal. It was practically non-existent. He ignored Abel as much as possible, belittling any effort Abel attempted to gain his attention, in a positive or negative manner. I never let Abel take the destructive attention. He wasn’t strong enough as a kid. He couldn’t take the hits. So I did.

I entered the suite in time to hear Abel arguing with my father. In the past few months, my little brother displayed a side I’d never seen before. He was stronger. Confident. Cocky. He talked back to me, but more intriguingly, he spoke back to our father, and didn’t back down like he did when he was a child. Presently, his fist was raised along with his voice in response to something my father said.

“Don’t even look at her,” Abel growled.

“Or you’ll what?” my father tormented. Abel raised his fist higher. Elma screamed.

Elma Montgomery was the girl Abel was in love with, even if he hadn’t admitted it to her. Blonde hair, smoking body, and pesky attitude, she’d been the source of our fight. She was a handful of trouble, but I deserved her blame. I’d killed her brother. Even if it was ruled an accident, I still lived with the guilt.

Our father didn’t even flinch at Abel’s threat.

“I knew you couldn’t do it. What kind of son raises his hand to his father?” Atom tsked.

“One that doesn’t have a man to call a father.” Abel wound back for the punch, but I grabbed his elbow. He hadn’t noticed I was in the room.

“Always intervening for him,” our father spit, shaking his head. His attention was focused on me as I lowered Abel’s arm.

“Abel, step back,” I directed. The tension in his arm was strong. He had developed a physical strength he hadn’t had when he was younger. I could attest to that newfound power from our fight the night before. My father’s eyes focused on mine for a moment, then shifted back to Abel. Menacing evil beamed from cold eyes, ones that I’d grown used to seeing in pleasure or pain. He never looked at me like he did Abel. We’d been told it was because Abel had our mother’s eyes. Our father hated to be reminded of her.