Page 151 of Cain

“What? No, I’m too old for that,” he says, looking away. He’s adorable.

“I didn’t know there was an age limit for dancing.” I smile broadly, raising a brow. “Besides, you’re not old. You’re what? Fifty?”

“I’m fifty-eight, but you’re flattering me, Miss Ružicková.” He beams.

He doesn’t look a day older than fifty. He has that fatherly expression plastered on his face all the time, and it makes me wonder … does he have any kids? I’m sure he’d be a great father.

“It’s Katerina; we’ve established that,” I attest with a grin.

“You’re right. I keep forgetting.”

He raises the coffee jar and offers me more. I extend my mug, and he pours my third cup of coffee for the day. Sweet Grayson; he drinks coffee with me, pretending I’m not weird.

“Do you have kids, Grayson?”

“Not in the way you think.” He sets the jar on the ebony kitchen table and takes a sip of his coffee.

“What do you mean?”

“I’m not a father. Not the way I’d want to be. But I love Cain like a son,” he says quietly, his grassy eyes fixed on the table. “I’ve known him since the day he was born. I always tried to protect him from Wade and Atticus, but I knew my place.”

“What was your place?”

He exhales, raising his gaze to meet mine. “If I went against them, they’d kill me in a heartbeat, and then there would be no one to protect him.”

“His mother loved him.”

“Alice wasn’t enough. Wade made her weak, kept her drugged, and told everyone she was sick so he could take her money.” He sips. “My poor Alice,” he adds, his chin trembling.

Did he have feelings for her? What if he’s … no, that would be insane.

But I can’t shake the thought of his and Cain’s eye colors looking so similar.

“She suffered so much,” he continues, pushing his glasses back.

“They sound like monsters,” I mutter, thinking about the way Cain’s expression changes every time he talks about them.

“They were. Horrible. Filthy,” he says, clenching his jaw. It’s the first time I’ve see an expression other than calmness from him.

I click my tongue. “I guess all fathers are the same.”

“Did your father abuse you, too?” His eyes widen, clearly shocked at the possibility of something like that.

“Not exactly,” I mutter, fidgeting. This time, I’m the one who keeps her eyes low. “He … they treated me like I didn’t matter. I was just a burden to them, something they had to tolerate until I finally stopped needing anything.” I chuckle humorlessly. “Then I became an embarrassment.”

I feel my eyes burn from the tears I try to hold back. They don’t deserve more of them.

“You are the biggest embarrassment I’ve ever had to live with.” I repeat his words as the tear finally runs down my cheek. “And my mother was always apathetic. It was like she wasn’t even listening.”

“You’re not an embarrassment,” Grayson reassures me, cupping my hand in his.

“Tell them that. Never in my life was I genuinely happy. I never had someone to take care of me, to care for me. Until …”

“Cain.”

I look him in the eyes. “Cain is there. He listens. He loves me in his own wicked way, but he does.”

“So, you feel you owe him for taking you away from them?”