The Wrath of Cain (The Syndicate, #1) by Kathy Coopmans
Prologue
“I can’t believe we just got married! Married, Cain! Can you believe it?” I exclaim in delight at my boyfriend of two years, Cain Bexley.
No, I take that back; he was my boyfriend. Now he’s my husband.
“Calla Bexley!” Cain yells at the top of his lungs as we walk out of the courthouse in downtown Detroit where we’ve just gotten married.
It all happened so fast that I still can’t believe we pulled it off without either of our families finding out. Maybe that’s why Cain said we should come to Detroit to get married instead of holding the ceremony in my hometown of Bloomfield Hills, a small community on the outskirts of the city.
Our fathers hate each other, and that is putting it mildly. I guess you could call the two of us forbidden lovers. My parents are even less lenient than Cain’s dad, and that is putting it mildly, too.
This bullshit between our fathers goes all the way back to their time in high school, where my dad was the big jock and Cain’s dad was the big party animal, and part of the notorious Sinners of Revolution MC.
Who gives a shit, right? That’s what we kept telling them all. Let it go, I would tell my dad, but nope, he wouldn’t listen. He would always carry on about the fact that Jed Bexley had been chasing after my mom. Wouldn’t leave her alone, always trying to get her to go out with him and all that high school drama crap.
I remember the first day I came home and told my parents I had a date, a date with the boy I’d secretly had a crush on since elementary school. A boy who was a badass. No one, and I mean no one, messed with Cain for the simple fact of who his dad was. Me, on the other hand… I saw Cain for who he really was, just a teenager like myself trying to get through school and make it to the next chapter in our lives.
My dad was furious when I told him who it was, and forbade me to go out with him. I was crushed. I cried and begged him to please let me go. He refused, told me straight to my face that he was no good for me, and if I ever went out with that boy, he would send me away or lock me in my room.
I snuck out and did it anyway, with help from my mom, of course. She’s the only one who has been on my side. I know for the most part it’s because she loves me, but she has a soft spot for Cain, too.
She knew he didn’t grow up with a mother. He lost her in a tragic accident when he was three years old. An elderly couple slid on some ice and lost control of their vehicle, slamming right into Cain’s mom and crushing her body against a parked car. Cain doesn’t talk about her at all; says he has very little memory of her. It’s sad. No child should ever have to grow up without a parent.
For two years, Cain and I have snuck around seeing each other whenever we could, both of us lying to our fathers. It’s been hard, but we’ve managed to do it. I could go on and on about this feud between our fathers, but not today, and hopefully not ever again. Now that we’re both eighteen and married, there isn’t jack shit they can do to us.
“Come here, wife,” Cain growls in my ear.
He pulls me into his arms, kissing me deeply as we come to a stop in front of his bike, the Harley I love so much, painted in the blackest of blacks and all decked out with shiny chrome. The only other color on the bike is a white Calla lily painted on the side, which he had done just two weeks ago for my birthday.
His tongue swirls with mine as he sits sideways on his bike, his long legs stretching outwards. He pulls my body flush with his. I inhale the deep smell of his leather vest and all that is Cain.
“So, I think we should just get this over with and go tell both of our parents, because I am not hiding anymore from any of them. I want them all to know you’re mine.”
“Okay,” I manage to squeak out.
He knows it turns me on when he nibbles on my ear and neck. If we weren’t here in the middle of this busy street, I would straddle him on this damn bike and f*ck him hard, ride him like I have done so many times. One of the reasons I love his bike is that when the weather is warm, we love to have sex on it. Trust me when I say it sucks in the winter when we have to sneak around in his truck, trying to find a place to park in the middle of all that snow.
“Your parents first, or mine?” he now asks.
“Mine,” I say.
He hands me my helmet and I tuck my ponytail inside, climbing on the back of his bike as best I can with a knee-length skirt on. I tuck it underneath me as Cain swings his long leg over and starts the bike up. My hands wrap around his middle and I clasp them together over his tight abs, but on second thought, I reach down and give his cock a quick squeeze through his jeans. He cranes his neck back to stare at me with the same desire in his eyes that I have in my own.
“You want that cock, don’t you, Calla?”
His eyes roam over my face.
“Always,” I grin.
With a knowing smirk, he flips down his visor and races toward I-75.
He only slows down when we pull onto my street, removing one of his hands to give my knee a light squeeze of reassurance. Those nervous butterflies start flapping their wings in my belly when I see both of my parents’ cars parked in the drive.
“We can do this, Calla. You’re not alone now. I’m your husband, and there ain’t jack shit they can say anymore.”
He shuts off his bike. The loud rumble dies off, but before either one of us climb off, my father is jumping down off of the porch and getting right up in Cain’s face.