17. Cain
Erica rides with her feet on the dashboard, humming along to the music.
I let her choose the playlists and I fall more for her with every song.
Our tastes are so fuckin’ similar, I thank fate a hundred times for bringing me to that shitty town with its shitty gas station and shitty motel.
We talk about our favorite bands, and I can see the surprise in her eyes when she realizes how much we have in common.
She quizzes me, asking suspicious questions like which songs I enjoy the most.
She even names a few wrong to see if I’ll correct her, and I do.
I reckon a part of her rejects that connection between us.
She wants to believe that I’m simply the monster who kidnapped her and keeps her as his prisoner—not a man she can get along with and want to spend time with.
When I take off my hat and lay it between us on the bench, Erica puts it on.
She sticks her tongue out at me, and the zap of electricity running through me almost has me veering into the nearest ditch.
Her crystalline laughter makes it too easy to forget we ain’t a normal couple.
If I didn’t know any better, I’d think she enjoys my company as much as I enjoy hers.
We make a brief stop for food.
Erica orders a double cheeseburger with extra pickles, large fries with ketchup, and an iced coffee with vanilla syrup, whipped cream, and caramel on top.
I get the same.
It’s a killer combination.
East San Antonio is busy in the early evening, but I planned the night carefully.
A traffic jam can’t derail us.
With time to spare, we park the car in a multi-story garage.
We get into an elevator that takes us to street level, where people stream toward the entrance of the indoor arena across the road.
I’ve been there a handful of times to watch the local basketball team play, but tonight, a different event is on the schedule.
A banner on the side gives away my surprise for Erica—or rather, a part of it.
“Billy Talent?” she asks and grabs my sleeve, yanking on it.
“We’re going to see Billy Talent? You’re kidding me, right?”
I put a hand over my heart in mock offense.
“Do I seem like a man who’d joke about something as important as his girlfriend’s favorite band?”
She turns tomato red.
“How do you know they’re my favorite?”
“I stalked you for a while before I kidnapped you. When I stood outside your motel room, I heard you listening to them every day on repeat, more than any other music.”
She slaps a hand across her forehead, but that doesn’t dull her grin.
“I should be so mad, Cain. So. Fucking. Mad.” Her gaze drifts to the venue, and she groans.
“But I can’t be. Last year when the tickets went on sale, I took a day off to wait online and when I finally got through, they were sold out! Scalpers resold them for a fortune, but that was way out of my league. I never thought I’d get to see them live again! And now we’re here and… and—”
Her speechless joy fills my chest with light.
Hurting Erica is like a powerful drug injected right into my veins.
It’s addictive.
I can’t live without it.
But seeing her happy has me caring about nothing else in the world so long as I can make her smile.
I smirk while I light a cigarette and take the first drag.
“Go on. Say it, little dove.”
“Damn you.” She kicks a pebble onto the road.
“Fine.” Her eyes roll before they fix on me and she gives me an even sweeter smile.
“This is… incredible. I’m seriously grateful. Thank you, Cain.”
“There you go. That wasn’t difficult at all, was it?”
She glares at me.
“Don’t push your luck, curly.”
I laugh and take her hand, leading her across the street as I smoke.
“The concert ain’t the most exciting part.”
“There’s more ?”
I don’t answer.
It’s better if she sees it for herself.
We cross the plaza in front of the main entrance, but instead of lining up to show our tickets, I swerve to the left.
I throw away my cigarette and grab my phone to send a quick text to the band manager’s number I’ve been given via email.
He said I should let him know when we’ve arrived, and he’ll take care of the rest.
At first, he was reluctant when I reached out to arrange a meet-and-greet with the band, but everybody has their price, and I simply had to mention the right number.
It’s an expensive event, sure, but every cent spent on Erica is a worthwhile investment.
“Where are you taking me?” she asks as we round the arena and the noise of the crowd fades.
“Are you going to fuck me by the dumpsters to make me pay for this?”
“If you want me to, darlin’.” I wink.
“But jokes aside, this ain’t a transaction. I don’t expect anything from you in return for this date night. Is it so unfathomable that I wanna do something nice for you without any ulterior motives?”
She scoffs.
“Yeah, it is.”
“You know that’s bullshit.”
Erica grumbles something about kidnapping and drugging but when we approach a metal gate, she quickly perks up.
A pair of security guards stand on each side.
They look us up and down, one opening their mouth to say something, when his radio buzzes and garbled speech comes through.
“Understood,” he says into the little black box and waves us closer.
“Cain and Erica Morrow?”
My heart lifts.
God, that sounds like music to my ears.
She wears my last name so well.
Erica’s eyes nearly pop out of their sockets as she stares at the guard.
Her head snaps to me.
No doubt she wants to give me an earful for acting like she’s my wife, but I answer the man before she can get a word out.
“Yeah, that’s us,” I say.
The guard punches a code into a keypad on the fence and the gate opens.
“Follow me, please.”
That adorable, giddy smile hasn’t left Erica’s face since we walked out of the backstage area and found a spot by the side of the VIP pit in front of the stage.
And the entire time I have been asking myself one question:
How did she become even more beautiful?
She clutches a tote bag with the band’s logo on it, giggling and shaking her head like she expects to wake from a dream.
Her unbridled joy gives her a glow that rivals the lightshow on stage.
I can’t stop grinning as she rocks back and forth on her heels, listening to the opening act play pop-punk.
Seeing her jaw drop when the band members came out of their dressing room and the lead singer shook her hand was worth every dollar.
As I requested, he gave her a swag bag, filled with t-shirts, autographs, and every other kind of merch they had available.
They did a small photo shoot, too, and I volunteered to take the pics.
My gallery is filled with pictures of Erica and the band, looking like they’ve been friends for years.
Being around her is easy and talking to her is fun, so no wonder those guys were all over her.
A lil too all over her for my taste.
My hackles raised when the lead singer pulled her in for a picture, dipping her like he was about to kiss her, but I didn’t wanna fuck this up for her.
The jealousy grinding along my guts like razor blades wasn’t a priority.
And beating the shit outta the guy for touching her definitely would’ve ruined the mood.
The meet-and-greet was a special occasion Erica will remember until her dying breath, and I wanted her to have this memory.
Unblemished.
It was important to her, and that meant it was important to me by proxy.
Erica teared up when the singer asked how long she’s been a fan, and she explained that their songs helped her through difficult times.
Your music saved my life , she said, choking up.
Shit, even my eyes had burned a bit.
Mostly because I hate to imagine my little dove alone and scared during her lowest lows, with just music as her companion.
But I’m grateful, too.
If she didn’t have her love for Billy Talent, I never would’ve had the chance to meet my soulmate.
Because that’s what she is.
Whether she’s all dolled up like tonight or stumbling out of bed, no makeup and messy hair…
No matter if she argues with me, hates me, or laughs and jokes with me.
Erica is my soulmate.
I didn’t even believe in that shit before I met her.
All that woo-woo stuff seemed like powerless people’s attempt to pretend they had control over something they could never influence.
But there’s no other explanation why I have butterflies in my stomach while I watch her bop her head to the music.
Or why I no longer only want to fill her pussy, but her heart, too.
I didn’t think that a monster like me is capable of this most human of emotions.
But for the first time in my life, I’m hopelessly in love—with the woman I abducted to slaughter on my operating table.
With Erica.
I nudge her side.
She smiles at me, the genuine affection in her eyes making my pulse jump into my damn throat.
I wish she’d always look at me like this.
“Yeah?” she shouts over the bass and guitar riffs.
I speak directly into her ear.
“I’m gonna get a drink before the main show starts. Do you want anything? You can indulge because I’m driving, but I’d rather you pick something in a bottle so I can buy them closed and pop the top myself. Safety reasons.”
She nods.
“Beer, please.”
“Alright. I’ll be right back,” I say, closely watching her reaction.
Erica gives me an energetic thumbs up.
If she wants to run away, this is her best shot.
I guess this is a test for her.
Will she stay or will she flee?
I wait a moment, but she looks at the stage, not an ounce of tension in her posture.
My brows rise.
In case she does run, the hidden tracking app I installed on her phone will send an alert to mine as soon as she gets out of range.
It’ll lead me right to her.
But Erica doesn’t seem to want to go anywhere.
She wants to stay right where she is, and I want to believe that has at least a bit to do with me…
not just with her favorite band.