Chapter 11
11
“So, what happened?” Jadyn asked me over the phone Wednesday afternoon.
I had just got in from my Pilates class and was munching on some grapes as I lay out on my sofa.
Jadyn’s question sprang forth a vivid memory of what had gone down during my impromptu visit to Keith’s that past Sunday.
Not that I would tell anyone, but I found myself to be incredibly limber these days.
It had been a while since Gaius, and sex was like a new awakening all over again.
Just the thought of Keith taking me on my back, my legs on his shoulders, made my middle burn. Every inch of him was big, leaving my body to have to accommodate him. I wasn’t sure I’d ever get used to sex with him. He only fucked me, and I couldn’t stop myself from wondering what it was like to have him go slow, to make love to my body, and be gentle.
I liked Keith’s sex, but I was curious.
Then, I supposed, candles and sensuality were probably a bad mix for what we were doing. To be tender. To be affectionate. It would cross a line, and I feared I’d slip and tumble down that rabbit hole.
The no-strings thing was easier in college. Now that I was a little bit older, and dated seriously, there was a piece of me that missed romance. A connection.
I just had to accept that I couldn’t have it all.
“K?” Jadyn pressed on, bringing me out of my thoughts. “Don’t leave me in the dark.”
“Right, sorry,” I apologized. “I went over to his house and we hooked up.”
“And…?”
And I decided to be stupid and jump into a committed non-relationship with him. “I fucked up.”
“Oh no,” Jadyn responded, sounding worried.
“We had sex and I fell asleep. When I woke up, I should’ve left, but I didn’t,” I said. “He was outside smoking and I went out to see him. I told him I wanted to see him again, but only like that.” I rubbed at my neck, remembering Keith’s reaction. “And he said if he’s sleeping with me, no one else can.”
Jadyn sucked in a breath. “Well, shit.”
“I know.”
“You down for that?”
“I mean, we’re basically in a committed no-strings relationship,” I pointed out. “But, I guess I can deal with that. At least I know he won’t stray.”
“What are the chances of you getting two men who want fidelity from you?” Jadyn joked. “And neither mean a thing.”
Keith wasn’t supposed to mean anything, and Cain never would. He was more so my warden.
“Tell me about it. I haven’t kissed Keith, so there’s that,” I said.
Jadyn snorted. “Lame.”
“I know.”
“So what did y’all do?”
Guilt washed over me at how I left things. “He tried to feed me.”
“What an asshole,” Jadyn responded dryly.
I managed to loosen up and laugh. “Stop.”
“So, he offers you loyalty, dick, and food? Besides your psycho fiancé, not seeing the problem here.”
Cain being in the picture was the biggest problem. And beyond that, this thing with Keith was a recipe for disaster. “He could break my heart.”
“Take that risk, girl, that’s what glue is for.”
I rolled my eyes. Jadyn was no help. “I feel bad. He went out shopping because he didn’t have any fish thawed out, and I bailed while he was gone.”
“Kennedy!” Jadyn chastised.
“I know.” I cringed. “I didn’t do it on purpose. There was a false alarm with my dad.”
At once, Jadyn understood. “I’m sorry, K. Is he doing any better?”
On Sunday, my father had experienced some muscle cramps in his thighs, causing my mother to panic and take him to the hospital. I couldn’t blame her for the dramatics. This whole ordeal had us all on edge as we had no agency over my father’s health. It was an uncomfortable feeling, sitting around, watching, waiting, hoping for some sort of miracle that would make my father’s condition bearable at the most.
He was in and out of the hospital, with some prescribed pain meds for the cramps. Being there in the thick of it, I could see what Cain had alluded to. My father was prideful, insisting that he was fine and my mother was overreacting. But I could see him wincing as he was helped back into bed from his wheelchair. I could see his gritted teeth. I could feel his rage.
He hadn’t asked, but right then I conceded, allowing myself to stop fighting this marriage to make one part of my father’s life easier. A sacrifice if you will. It was pathetic, but seeing with my own eyes how my father tried to fight defeat was a blow I couldn’t recover from.
“He’s adjusting,” was all I could say on the matter.
“I hate this for him and you,” Jadyn said. “Especially you, because you must feel obligated to help in anyway.”
She knew me too well.
“How are things with the script?” I pushed for a subject change, if only to spare myself from dwelling on my predicament.
Over on her end, Jadyn groaned. “I was trying to go romance-less, but now I’m thinking my girl deserves a little love in her story. I mean, it’s not like coming-of-age stories with guys don’t feature love stories.”
“Love is nice, Jay.”
“I wouldn’t know. It’s been a while over here. Twisted or not, you’re the one swimming in prospects.”
Prospects. Right.
My only true prospect was Cain. With Keith, somehow, I had to manage to keep a wall up while sleeping with him.A task he seemed intent on making a challenge.
He asked about my father. Something small, humane, but left me feeling antsy.
I hadn’t called or texted him to explain my abandoning him further, and he hadn’t called or texted me to ask for an explanation. This was how it would work. No emotional ties. No questions. Just a phone call or text when either of us was horny.
“I’m trapped, Jay,” I said softly. “It can only be sex with Keith, because if I fall for him, it’ll only end badly.”
There was a knock at my door, drawing my attention across the room.
“If you want to cut off ties now, I get it,” Jadyn replied. “Whenever you want to escape the stress of Cain and your dad’s situation, I’m here. Whatever you want, I support you.”
I was entirely overwhelmed with what was going on. Sinking on a raft with no way to land. Having at least one hand reaching out to help me lifted some weight from my shoulders.
“Thank you, Jay. I mean it, you’ve been my rock since this whole thing started.” I got up from the couch and went to answer the door.
“Of course, what are friends for?” Jadyn reasoned. “I don’t want you to feel alone when you have me.”
I opened my mouth to thank her again, but the words never came out.
Cain was on the other side of the door when I opened it. His men weren’t too far behind him keeping lookout.
“J-Jay? I gotta go,” I let her know before I hung up.
I was still in my sports bra and yoga pants, but Cain held the grace to look me in the eye.
“Cain,” I said as I leaned into my door. “You’re back.”
He nodded. “I was in the neighborhood.”
Somehow, I doubted that. “Okay.”
There was no use in fighting him, so I let him into my suite and shut the door behind him. He made no move to remove his jacket or get comfortable. Instead, he stood in the foyer, staring back at me.
“Do you have any plans?” he wanted to know.
“Not particularly, why?”
“I’d like to take you out on a date. Somewhere…special to me,” Cain answered. His eyes ran down my current state of dress before returning to mine. “You’d have to change of course.”
I could’ve stood my ground, asked him to leave, but what was the point?
“What should I wear?” I gave in.
Cain’s eyes returned to my figure. They were empty and impassive. If he lusted after me, he didn’t let it show. “A dress.”
Classy. Got it.
“I’m going to go shower and get ready. Please wait outside.” I opened my door and Cain put up no fight as he began making his way by me. It caught me by surprise he didn’t insist on waiting in my living room. “Wait.”
Cain paused just as he’d made it back into the hallway. “Yes, Kennedy?”
“You can wait in front of the TV,” I offered.
For the briefest second, Cain smiled at the change of plans, but still, he went over to his men and left me to be alone in my suite.
Who knew the Devil could be a gentleman?
Cain was in a fitted black suit. I preferred white, but I had just the black Balmain dress in my closet for the occasion. After all, this was my funeral.
Forty minutes later I was in the back of a town car sitting beside Cain as we rode over to his surprise date. Like a dutiful fiancée, I wore my ring as my only accessory. My hair was back in a bun, I’d only applied mascara and eyeliner for makeup, and my Balmain mini dress had caught the eye of Cain and one of his men. Beans had the decency not to be affected by the sight of me.
When the car came to a stop, I discovered we were downtown at some hole-in-the-wall spot I didn’t recognize. The marquee out front glowed brightly with the venue’s name. Lucky’s Blues Lounge .
I faced Cain for an explanation, but he merely got out of the car and came and helped me out of my side.
“Come, they reserved us good seats,” he instructed. With his hand on the small of my back, he led me inside and I didn’t miss the fact that Beans and the other man were following us.
Lucky’s Blues Lounge was like a step into the past. Once inside I felt as if I’d been immersed into the ’40s with its dim lights, soul music, and classy attire. There were booths and tables, food being brought to patrons who wished to dine. The live singer on stage was singing a rendition of some old-school song I couldn’t quite place, and I was in awe of the environment. It was something like an old-school juke joint.
Whoa .
“It’s Etta James,” Cain clued me in of the young woman on stage singing a cover. “?‘Trust in Me.’?”
The lounge wasn’t bustling with people, but there were enough in the room to let me know Lucky’s was an exclusive spot. The crowd in the surrounding tables and booths were a mix of what looked like Black twenty-somethings, along with an ample amount of people in their thirties and forties.
Cain didn’t take a moment to study the atmosphere like me, nor did he wait to be seated. He took the lead and led me over to a booth on the lefthand corner of the room, with a terrific view of the stage, as well as the door.
His men didn’t join our table. They took a circular one a few feet away and focused on the menus on the tabletop.
I slid into the booth first, and Cain joined me.
All of the staff of Lucky’s wore black trousers, button-down shirts, or dresses for the female members or skirts. They too looked like they’d stepped right out of the ’40s—when men were “dapper,” and the women were “dames.”
Our hostess, a young woman in a black A-line skirt and white polo, came to our table with a chipper smile on her face. She procured a pad of paper to take our order before sweeping her attention between Cain and me. “Good evening, welcome to Lucky’s. My name is Blair. How can I help you folks tonight?”
“We’ll start off with some waters before we order,” Cain spoke up. He glanced my way. “Is that okay?”
I could only manage a nod as I reached out and collected a menu from the table. The smell of beef filled the air, and I noticed a couple nearby eating steaks.
Blair went off to grab our waters and suddenly Cain and I were alone.
I took the time to examine the room. The young woman on stage was doing another cover, her angelic voice putting the entire first floor in a trance. The balcony area held patrons leaning over the railing to get a good view of her. Next to the smell of steak, cigar smoke wafted down from the second floor.
“They can smoke in here?” I voiced my surprise as I came back to Cain.
His eyes lifted to the balcony as he nodded. “If it bothers you, I’ll have them put it out.”
“You can’t do that.” It wasn’t a big deal. The scent only served to remind me of Keith. Of sharing his rancid cigarette with him after sex.
“I can do what I want.” Cain returned his attention to me. “I own this place.”
That took me by surprise. A man of Cain’s age and position, I would’ve guessed he would own a nightclub before something niche like a blues lounge.
“You like this style of music?”It was a silly question, seeing how here we were.
Cain hummed. “Blues, jazz, doo wop—most of my favorites are older. Think the last newest voice I would say who caught my ear would be Adele.”
“Adele hive,” I joked.
Cain glanced my way, and I could see him almost smiling. “What do you like, Kennedy?”
“R&B, and some pop. Mariah, Brandy, Janet, and Sevyn Streeter,” I listed. “Just to name a few.”
The style of music Lucky’s presented wasn’t bad. It reminded me of older movies I’d grown up seeing with my mother.
“Hungry?” Cain asked as he reached out and tapped my menu.
While I was happy that they offered several fish entrées, I wasn’t in the mood to eat. “Too nervous.”
“Don’t be, it’s just us,” Cain insisted. “Then again, every man in here is looking at you, and I’m not sure I’m a fan.”
“Oh please.” I brushed him off and tucked a strand of hair behind my ear, suddenly anxious.
Had people noticed me? Or were they eyeing the owner? Something about Cain demanded attention. When he walked into a room, you knew he was a somebody, someone with power and prestige.
Whether he earned it or not.
Cain made himself comfortable as he went and removed his suit jacket. Right away I spotted the shoulder holster he was wearing beneath it. On the side closest to me, he had a gun tucked away. I’d never seen one before, and the sight made me uneasy.
Cain noticed.
“Safety’s on,” he assured as he removed the gun and held it in his hand. The proximity had me sitting up straight. “You ever use one of these before?”
“N-No.”
Cain accepted this. “We’ll have to fix that.”
When he put the gun on his lap, I calmed down. If only a little.
“You trust me with a gun around you?” I found myself teasing.
Cain wasn’t fazed as Blair came and deposited our glasses of water. He held his finger out to her, asking for more time to decide on what he wanted to eat. It was only when she was out of earshot that he replied. “If it’s my time, it’s my time.”
He sounded so nonchalant, as if the idea of a violent death didn’t scare him. Bastard or not, I didn’t like that.
Cain chuckled at my frown.
“Everybody wants to be a gangster, until it’s time to be a gangster,” Cain quipped as he took a sip of his water.
Gangster . The moniker fit him to a T when I thought about it. There was nothing clean-cut about Cain Carter. “Now that we’re engaged to be married, will people be out to hurt me?”
My father was a businessman and even he hadn’t ever walked around with security like Cain did.
Cain regarded me, a serious expression on his face. “You’ll always be safe and looked after when you’re with me. You never have to question that.”
I barely knew Cain, but I could just tell he was a man of his word. If he said something, he meant it. If he promised something, he saw it through.
“Still,” I went on as I stole a peek at where Beans was ordering food with a waiter and the other man was scouring his menu. “Do you have to have your men follow you everywhere you go?”
Cain glanced at his men and came back to me. “Precaution.”
“ Precaution ,” I repeated. “Sure.”
Cain tapped his finger on the table, once more looking over at his men. “Vino’s the only person you want watching your back. And Beans…” Cain’s gaze fell to the tabletop. “He’s the closest thing to family I’ve ever known.”
“Really?” I didn’t miss the way Cain’s face fell, the sense of vulnerability in the air.
“We…met in foster care,” Cain admitted.
At once I turned, giving him my complete attention. “ Foster care ?”
Cain stiffened a little beside me, letting me know this was a hard topic for him. “My mother…she died suddenly when I was twelve. With no father coming forward, that left me a ward of the state.”
Despite it all, I reached out and placed a hand on his. “I’m sorry, Cain.”
He regarded my soft palm on his. He gave a shrug, as if it didn’t matter, but I called bullshit. “So, anyway, that’s how I met Beans. He was… different from the other kids, and that made him a target. I stuck my neck out for him, and he’s been loyal to a fault ever since.”
Suddenly, I felt bad for Beans, being bullied after being placed in the system. “You know, with a little cleaning up, maybe I can set him up with a girl I know.”
Cain almost seemed to smile. “That won’t be necessary.”
I got back to their relationship. “So, he owes you.”
Cain was quick to shake his head. “He doesn’t owe me a thing, but I respect his loyalty. I trust it.”
“Trust seems like it’s hard for you.”
He frowned. “You have no idea.”
“Could you…trust me?”
“If you give me a reason to trust you, Kennedy, I’ll trust you one hundred percent.”
I grabbed my glass of water and took a hearty sip, half paying attention to the Bill Withers song playing through the speakers in Lucky’s.
We were engaged, and I was having an affair. I wasn’t selfish enough to ask him to trust me.
Sitting so close, I saw it. There, on Cain’s bottom lip, was a scar. About a few inches long, faded, but there.
“What happened there?” I wanted to know.
Cain thumbed at it and looked off. “Lost battle.”
Somehow, my mind pieced together his time in foster care, his connection to Beans, and this telltale scar. Against all that I felt for him, my heart softened.
Cain peeked at me and snickered surprisingly. “Jesus, to think pity would’ve been a good route in winning you over.”
I only halfheartedly rolled my eyes. “Can’t help it that I have a heart. There’s still time for you to grow one.”
Cain glanced down at his glass. “In another life, perhaps, I would’ve had a chance.” He observed me limply. “Guess we’ll never know.”
I didn’t know his entire life story, but it was clear that Cain wasn’t born this way. Rather, he was made.
His mother died young and suddenly. He had no father or other family to raise and nurture him. And then the foster care system had been cruel to what was left of the impressionable little boy.
I wanted to touch his scar, but I kept my hands in my lap instead.
I chewed on my cheek, feeling conflicted. “And when you said you wouldn’t cheat, you meant it?”
He nodded. “You never have to question your trust in me. I took a pay cut for you, to do that and fuck up by being weak would be foolish.”
“Pay cut?” I questioned.
Cain ran his finger along the rim of his glass. “Damon wasn’t going fifty/fifty after I proposed adding you to my end.”
Shit.
Cain wanted me. There was something off about him, but then there was something nice, too.
Blair swooped back by, and this time, to distract myself, I ordered a Sprite and forced myself to get a Mediterranean salad with salmon. Cain ordered wine and a lamb chop meal, and once more we were alone as Blair went to turn our orders into the cook.
Another song by Etta James was playing and around me I could see some men and women swaying to the melody and giving their lovers the eye.
Cain undid his cuffs and pushed his sleeves up, revealing naked skin. Aside from that thorny-stemmed rose tattoo on his hand, his skin was bare of ink. Tattoos didn’t quite seem his style anyway.
Blair came and handed me my Sprite and Cain his glass of red wine before going on to her other table.
“Can I ask you something?” I grew the courage to speak up. “I-I pretty much know the answer, but I gotta ask. Would you really do it? Would you kill someone who touched me?”
Cain didn’t even look at me as he answered. “In a second. I wouldn’t recommend testing that theory.”
My heart dropped. “I wouldn’t… I don’t think I’m worth it. The hassle of doing all this.”
“What’s mine is mine,” Cain declared. “I don’t like people touching what belongs to me.”
I belong to me. “How do you know I won’t go to the police?”
Fear didn’t register on Cain’s face. “Guess I do trust you.”
Either that or he was arrogant.
“I am going to have my hands full in the coming weeks and months,” Cain said. “I’m aiming to open The Residence at Cartier next year.”
Next year? Most of my father’s hotels took more than a couple of years to go from designs to opening day.
“That can’t be done,” I commented.
“It can when you light a fire,” Cain responded. “I also think we should speed up the wedding, maybe do it in December.”
“Cain—”
“It’s just for appearance, mainly your father. I don’t want to push it and he not be here in the end. We won’t have to consummate it or anything.”
A lump lodged in my throat at the possibility of my father passing before I said I do . “We wouldn’t have to do anything?”
Cain shook his head. “You have my word. Not until you’re ready.”
I smirked, grabbing my Sprite and forcing down a mouthful. “What if I’m never ready?”
Cain chuckled, appearing handsome and young. “I’d like to think I can be somewhat charming.”
Charming, sure.
According to my father, I only needed to last three years in our marriage before I could receive my inheritance. Could I go three long years in a sexless marriage?
“But if I don’t want to?” I pressed, needing to hear him say it again.
Cain gave a stiff nod. “Do I want to wait until after we’re married? Not at all. It’s not up to me, ultimately. I don’t intend to touch you until you want me to touch you.”
I turned, facing him, giving him a better view of me. “And if I say yes, you can touch me?”
Not breaking eye contact, Cain responded, “I’d very much like to fuck you in that dress.”
So he was attracted to me.
Swallowing thickly, I remained calm. “But since I’m saying no?”
He shrugged simply. “Then I’ll wait.”
“No crushing pills or ripping IUDs?”
The frown that took his face let me know he regretted those words. “I’d never do that, Kennedy. I’m a lot of things, but not a monster.”
It was mid-February. If we got married in December, that would only speed up my countdown until I was truly free of this arrangement. Worst came to worst? He wouldn’t let me go and allow us to divorce. Odd-case scenario? I got to know Cain and fell in love with him.
A sense of panic overcame me at that thought.
Really, in the end, I didn’t have a choice. Prolonging the inevitable would only lengthen the time frame of this whole nightmare. I told myself I was doing this for the greater good. For my father.
I buried my discomfort as I raised my Sprite in the air for a toast. “I guess we’re getting married in December, Dice.”
Cain studied me. He ran his thumb along his bottom lip as he tilted his head, shaking it slightly. “ Cain . I don’t want to be ‘Dice’ with you.”
“To a December wedding, Cain?” I reiterated, still holding my glass out.
Cain went and clinked his wine against my soda. “To a December wedding, Wife.”
I took a sip of my Sprite, gulping it down as my hand shook, hoping he wouldn’t notice.