Chapter Twenty-Four.
Cain
“Reply to Aaron Sinclair that I’ll attend his charity event,” I ordered my secretary before sitting back in my chair. I tapped the invitation Aaron had sent out and smiled. “Also, post on my social media where I’ll be attending.”
That statement alone would let people know where I stood.
Kensington’s fundraiser would be a failure; nobody but idiots wanted to cross me.
Not unless they had a death wish. It was obvious why Kensington was doing this.
Zade had just climbed the ranks with the announcement of Mystique signing with them.
Undoubtedly, Kensington had heard and was now shitting himself. If he wasn’t more fool him.
I turned to my latest report. Alicia had spent four days away with Harrison, and that burned.
Especially as they had become intimate with each other, while it grated, it wouldn’t last. Alicia would be mine, and I’d wait for her patiently.
She needed what Harrison could give her, and I’d allow that.
Alicia may not remember me, but I remembered, and I’d never forgotten her.
Cain – fourteen years ago.
He was dead. I couldn’t believe it. Rand was gone.
My older brother hadn’t come home as he promised.
Beside me, Dad stared at the coffin and at the flag that covered it.
Anger burned deep within me, mixed with grief.
This was his fault. Dad’s. He’d forced Rand into joining the army, full of comments about how it would make a real man of him.
Bull-fucking-shit. Instead, Rand had died on his first tour.
Dad’s hand clamped down on my shoulder as a tear trickled down my cheek. “Suck it up, a real man doesn’t show emotions.”
“What the fuck would you know about that?” I hissed hatefully.
Dad’s fingers tightened on me. The warning was clear.
Don’t make a scene, don’t shame the family.
Screw that. I angrily shrugged Dad’s hand off me.
He stood stiffly next to me, a soldier through and through.
He’d never learned how to be a father. Dad may have donated his sperm, but that was all he’d done.
Mom had raised us.
She stood silently, tears spilling down her cheeks as she gazed at the coffin holding her eldest son.
I didn’t know how she dared mourn him. Mom hadn’t defended Rand when he needed it most. Sheer hate nearly choked me.
We looked like the perfect family; we were anything but. We were ruled by the fear of one man.
“Behave,” Dad murmured as the priest droned on about what a hero Rand was.
Bull-fucking-shit again. The words the clergyman said were what they’d told him to say.
He didn’t really know Rand. Just what the allegedly grieving parents informed him.
I snorted; I was nineteen and being chastised by my father like a kid. Finally, I snapped.
“Shut the fuck up!” I yelled, and everyone fell silent, stunned. I wrenched away from Dad and his control. “You don’t know Rand. None of you understand the truth. You wanna know why Rand is inside there? I’ll tell you.”
“Shut up, boy, and show respect,” Dad ground out and reached for me. I darted back out of the way.
“Rand is dead and lying there because of him and her,” I pointed at them both. Mom went white and staggered, my uncle supporting her as he turned an angry eye on me. Dad grabbed for me, and I slapped his hand away.
“Rand was gay. Dad couldn’t—wouldn’t accept that. He forced Rand to join the army to make a real man of him. Rand didn’t sign up because he wanted to. Dad threatened to beat the gay out of him, and you tried, didn’t you, asshole?” I accused.
Dad was turning puce, a sure sign his temper was on the rise.
“And you! Some Mom you are. You let Dad abuse him and force Rand into the forces. You allowed that to happen and didn’t stop him; stand up to him. Didn’t defend your son!” I yelled.
“I said shut the fuck up!” Dad roared. Guests began talking and looked between the three of us, shocked. Guilt was written all over Mom’s face, and they knew I was speaking the truth.
Dad raised his fist, and people gasped. “You can’t show reverence for a fallen soldier?”
“Rand is my brother; he had all my respect and love. It didn’t matter he was gay; he was an amazing bro and a wonderful person.
What’s next, asshole? Beat me and send me to the army?
That’s not happening.” I turned to the mourners.
“You want to mourn Rand. Know this. He was the kindest, sweetest man I’d met.
Rand would do anything for anyone—he’d have given you the shirt off his own back if you asked.
Rand was funny, loving, and loyal and scared shitless of him. ” I pointed at Dad, whose jaw clenched.
“Being gay isn’t a crime, nor is it shameful.
Homosexuality doesn’t make people any different, although I’d say it promotes tolerance and understanding.
Rand’s core personality stayed the same whether he was gay or straight.
He was never hypocritical like those two.
Pretending to mourn a son they didn’t accept.
Those crocodile tears are just that, used to hide her true feelings of guilt and failure.
You deserve them, Mom. You, above everyone, should have protected Rand. You failed miserably.”
“One last time, boy,” Dad threatened, stepping towards me. “I’m warning you.”
“Enough.” I looked up, and Rand’s commanding officer, Lieutenant Colonel Yates, stepped forward. “I’ve heard plenty. You’re a disgrace.”
For a moment, I thought he meant me, and I held my ground, but he turned to Dad instead. Dad flinched.
“Cain is correct. Gay didn’t mean anything.
You believed the army would beat the homosexuality out of Rand?
Rand was an amazing young man whom I knew had secrets.
Now I know what, and my soul is saddened by that.
Gay or not, it was an honour to serve with someone so brave.
You’re a disgrace to the uniform. Rand wasn’t.
Now shut up while those here genuinely mourn Rand,” the Lieutenant Colonel ordered Dad, a mere staff sergeant.
Dad bristled. Angrily, he reached for me, furious that I’d aired our family’s dirty laundry.
I darted away before he could do anything.
I’d said what I’d needed to say, and Rand wasn’t in that coffin.
Rand was safe now, free from our father’s hate.
He’d have laughed hard at my confronting them here, above his grave, and would have called it karma.
I raced away through the gravestones, hid behind a tree, and leaned on a headstone. When they’d all gone, I’d go and say goodbye my way. I patted the small bottle of whiskey hidden in my jacket. Rand would have liked that.
“That was dramatic,” a soft voice murmured. I spun around and saw a girl standing before me.
“Who the fuck are you?” I demanded.
“That’s my parents’ headstone you’re leaning on,” she said, and I hopped off the grave guiltily.
“Sorry, I meant no disrespect,” I muttered, studying her. Her eyes were red, as if she’d been crying a lot, and she seemed gaunt.
“None taken. Mom and Dad would have helped hide you after hearing all that. I’m Alicia,” she introduced herself. Alicia didn’t wait for an introduction but continued. “Guess you can’t go home after that. You pa looks angry enough to kill you.”
“Yeah. He’ll beat me black and blue, but it was worth it.”
“Where will you go?”
“Alicia, it’s his roof or the streets. The streets don’t appeal to me. Once I’m twenty, I’ve got a small inheritance given to me by my grandfather. I can make that work for me.”
Alicia looked at her parents’ grave and bent down to arrange some flowers. Despite my own grief, I noticed hers was raw, and I glanced at the date of death of her parents. It had been nine months.
“Some days are harder than others,” she muttered. “Today was Mom’s birthday.”
Alicia placed a small, wrapped box down and patted the headstone. “Hey, Mommy. I bought you a gift.” She unwrapped it, and I saw a gold necklace with a heart inscribed with the word ‘Mom’. Alicia made a hole in the dirt and buried it before covering it over.
“I’ll leave you to your grief.”
“When are you twenty?”
“In a few months.”
“It must be a sign. I leave for college in a couple of months. I turn eighteen as I finish school.” Alicia sat back and studied me. It felt like she saw deep inside me, to my very soul.
“I’m doing business in college,” I replied.
“Sounds fun. I want to be a fashion designer.”
Alicia kept staring at me, and I grew uncomfortable. “You can come with me.”
“What?” I spluttered. Was she for real? Was Alicia blind to the danger of offering a stranger a home?
“I recognise genuine grief when I see it. I can also spot two flaming assholes when I see them. If you want a beating, go with them. But if you’d like somewhere to stay for a couple of months, I can offer you that,” she said softly. Alicia plucked a blade of grass and twisted it nervously.
“Alicia, I could harm you,” I murmured.
“You won’t. I see something in you. You’re not bad, just hurt. Like me, you’re a bit broken. You miss your brother; I miss my parents. Dad always told me to help people if I could. I can give you breathing room.”
I stared at her, stunned wordless. For the first time since I’d learned Rand was dead, my grief faded and hope dared raise its head. Was Alicia for real?
“Do you mean that?” I asked. It was a lifeline I’d not expected.
“Yes. But it comes at a cost.”
“I don’t have money to pay you,” I replied quickly, cutting her off. There it was. The catch. There was always one. Disappointment flooded me; I’d thought Alicia was different, but it seemed she wasn’t. Damn me for wanting to believe that there were decent people out there.
“Did I mention payment? The cost is something you can afford: time. I can’t keep the grass tidy because I’m studying so hard.
I’d ask you to mow it for me. Also, I can’t pack up their stuff.
I can’t even enter their bedroom. Would you help me and stay with me while I choose what I want to keep?
And then could you box the rest up for charity? ”
“That’s the price?” I demanded incredulously. Alicia raised tear-filled eyes to me and wiped them. In that moment, I knew I’d burn the world for her.
“Yes. I can’t do it, it hurts too much.”
“Not a problem. Whatever you need. Who do we need to talk to about my coming back with you?” I asked. Whoever was in charge of Alicia might not like this arrangement, but even so, I’d watch over her for now.
“No one. The court decided I was old enough to look after myself. Occasionally, someone from adult social care drops in to check on me, but that’s rare.
I handle my finances, my home, and everything else.
I’m going to sell the house; I can’t stay there; it hurts too much.
Maybe you wouldn’t mind helping me prepare it? ”
“Whatever you need,” I promised fervently. I couldn’t believe this was happening. Was Alicia an angel sent by Rand?
“They’re leaving. Your father is looking for you,” Alicia said, nodding towards where Rand’s funeral was.
“Let them. I’m only going back to fetch my stuff. I know when Dad is out of the house, so I’ll sneak in and get it.”
“What about college? Don’t you need to return?” Alicia asked.
“My course finished early. I passed with flying colours, not that it impressed him. I’ll be returning at the same time you start.”
“Then we’ve a deal,” Alicia said, putting her hand out. I hauled her up and shook it.
“Your kindness, I don’t know how to thank you.”
“A name would help.”
I chuckled, the first time since Rand had left us. “Abel.” I offered her a false name; if Dad came searching, although it was doubtful she’d be a poor liar. Alicia had innocence and truthfulness written all over her.
“I’ll wait here while you say goodbye,” Alicia said, and I nodded. I walked away as I saw the limo leave. Yeah, Dad wouldn’t hang about; everyone else had gone on to Rand’s wake. This was my time to say what I needed to Rand.
Four hours later, I looked up as the sun began to set. I’d not realised so much time had passed. Shit, I bet Alicia had left. Oh well, the offer had counted and meant something. I was surprised when I turned around and saw her sitting on a bench.
“You’ve been here waiting?” I demanded as I wiped tears from my eyes.
“I was over there. I didn’t want to intrude on your grief. But when it began getting darker, I came closer,” Alicia explained. “Shall we go home?”
In front of me was the embodiment of an angel.
I was convinced of it. I knew no one who’d act like this.
People were out for themselves, usually.
Finding someone like Alicia was like discovering a unicorn.
Alicia ducked her head and began walking away; I followed blindly.
Rand would have loved Alicia if he’d met her, and she reminded me of him. Two gentle souls in a cruel world.
I crushed my pen in my hand and felt a stabbing pain.
I dropped the mess into the trash can and headed for the bathroom.
Ink stained my hands, and the water turned black as I scrubbed them.
Memories kept running through my mind. Alicia had never asked for anything in return, but I found ways to help make her life easier.
She’d let me store my belongings at her house and hadn’t asked how I’d got them.
The memory of punching my father out surfaced, and made me smile. He’d not seen that coming. It had given me great joy. I’d taken Rand’s most cherished possessions, my clothes, laptop, and left the rest. None of it meant anything, and it could all be replaced.
Within a year of leaving Alicia’s home, I’d earned my first million. Taking risks, two years later, I was a multimillionaire and on I went. In fourteen years, I’d accomplished everything I’d meant to do.
But the sweet girl never left me. I’d returned for Alicia, but she’d been with Oliver and seemed happy, so I didn’t interfere. Now I wish I had. But again, I’d wait because what Alicia wanted, she got. Her happiness was paramount. And deep down, I knew Harrison was a stopgap.
Harrison was what she needed to regain herself. I’d allow it. I turned my attention back to destroying Kensington. I had shit to occupy myself with until Alicia became free. Once that happened, I’d focus everything I had on winning her love. And I’d succeed, because I was Cain Russell, her Abel.