Page 60 of Cain

“Is my husband home?”

“Not yet.”

“Is …” Mom swallowed hard, struggling to speak his name. “Is Atticus here?”

Eleanor swallowed hard as well, her eyes penetrating me.

“He will be here soon,” she said. My heart skipped in fear again.

“Okay. You’re excused.”

Eleanor nodded softly and closed the door behind her.

“Mom,” I whispered hurriedly, feeling my eyes welling up.

“Shhh.” She extended her arms, inviting me to fall into them. I did. I jumped into her embrace, and she hugged me tightly.

“I’m scared,” I mumbled.

“Don’t be, honey,” she whispered, cradling me in her arms. “You will stay here tonight, okay? I will lock the door, and we’ll both stay in.”

“Do you think it will stop him?”

She pulled back and held my face in her hands, making me look at her. “I will protect you with everything I have.”

I cried inconsolably in her arms. I was scared. Terrified. But that night, she made her promise come true.

Atticus had been gone for days, dealing with the company’s filthy dealings. I didn’t know what he was doing, but I do now. He was sinking ships after insuring them, all to fill his pockets with blood money. Lives shattered for a few extra coins. Innocent people lost in his hunt for wealth. It was a twisted trick he’d taught my father, which is why my father held him in such highregard, handing over the entire company to him, even though it all belonged to my mother.

But my father was a master manipulator, convincing everyone that my mother was crazy and incapable of running her empire.

That is one reason I enjoyed setting this motherfucker on fire. Family … family means nothing. He wasn’t my family. None of them were.

My mom was right. I had to learn to think ten moves ahead. To be ten steps ahead of the enemy and, if necessary, everyone else. Mercy was a weakness, and hesitation was a death sentence. So, I buried both.

I became a predator, ruthless and cold. I didn’t just rise to the top. I crushed anyone who stood in my way. I learned that power isn’t given; it’s taken. Ripped from the hands of the ones who betray their own. And I took it all.

And yet, after everything, I still can’t solve that damn Rubik’s Cube.

My fingers spin the lines more frantically now. I can feel it—something rising, something clawing its way up from the pit of my stomach. My breathing turns sharp and labored as the memory of my mother twists and blackens, rotting into something darker. Something cruel. It evolves into pain. Fear. Fury.

“Please, let me go,” I wailed desperately, tears flooding my childish eyes.

He didn’t even flinch at my plea. His cold eyes never wavered, staring down at me as if I were nothing more than an object. He leaned in, his voice low and taunting.

“Begging already?” He sneered, his lips curling into a sickening grin. “You really think I’m going to let you go just because you cry? I own you, remember?”

I still can’t believe how an eighteen-year-old boy could be so sick and sinister without an apparent reason. How could a young man’s mind be so toxic and disgusting?

I remember the sound of the chains as they clattered on the dust-covered ground of the cell where he kept me chained. This sound was different in my ears. It didn’t resemble the one I hear when I chain my victims now.

“I just want to go to my room,” I pleaded, my voice shaking with fear.

I took a few steps back, trying to avoid him. I knew there wasn’t any escape.

He raised his leather belt and slashed through the air, landing it across my shoulder blades. The pain was immense. Unbearable. Piercing. Consuming. I was just a fucking kid.

“Shut up! You’re such a filthy bastard that sneaked into our house, and you dare to claim what’s mine!” he barked, turning all red. He was furious again.