Wanting Mr. Cane

by Shanora Williams

  Cane's eyes slid over to me, and I fidgeted, but didn't look away from him. I saw the guilt flash in his eyes, but he covered it with a soft smile and said, "Of course. Anytime." He changed the subject then, lifting the cup holder and showing off the coffees. "Brought you a pick-me-up. Figured you might need it after pulling an all-nighter."

  "Oh, yes please," she laughed. "Thank you. That was really nice of you." Mom accepted the coffee and then came back to me, wrapping her arm around my shoulders. "Do you have to be anywhere?” she asked him. “You can stay a while if you want to. The doctor said he should be waking up soon."

  Cane flipped his wrist to check his watch and then looked up. He looked at me first before focusing on Mom. "Don't have to be anywhere important for another three hours. I can hang out here until then."

  "Great. I'm sure Derek will be glad to see you when he's up. You're like family to him. To all of us."

  Cane nodded, but again, the guilt on his face was crystal clear. He didn't say anything else. Instead, he turned, pulling his coffee out of the cup holder and claiming the vacant recliner in the corner by the door.

  As he sipped his coffee, he stared at my dad with wide, distant eyes. He still seemed worried, anxious. Mom grabbed my hand to sit me down with her, and we all looked at Dad, the minutes ticking by ever so slowly, just waiting for him to move or sigh or do anything, but he didn’t move. Only breathed.

  Eventually Mom couldn't stand the silence anymore, and she grabbed the remote control attached to the hospital bed, turning on the TV and surfing through the channels. She stopped on the cooking channel, sipping at her coffee, letting it be her distraction for now.

  I felt eyes on me and knew whom they belonged to, but didn't bother checking to find out.

  I couldn't look at Cane. I wanted to, but couldn't.

  Every time I looked at him now, I thought about what he did to me only hours ago, how amazing and thrilled I was, and it felt wrong to have those thoughts, like I was betraying Daddy by thinking and worrying about someone else.

  Thirty minutes passed, but they were heavy and uncomfortable, filled with small chatter between Cane and Mom. She asked about his job and even Kelly. Hearing about Kelly was something I didn’t want to stick around for.

  I couldn't sit in there anymore, listening to him go on about how he and Kelly were supposed to be flying to New York together for an art expo. And the way he talked about her, like he was excited to go with and be with her? Ugh. It made me want to vomit.

  I needed to get some air, stat.

  "Mom, do you think I can borrow some money? I want to go to the cafeteria, see if they have anything quick to eat. Left my wallet at Frankie's," I explained with a shrug.

  Mom's eyes swooped up to mine. "Sure, honey. My—Oh, you know what, honey?" She looked around the room until her eyes pinned on the Michael Kors purse on the counter. "I left my wallet in the car, but you can go and get it if you want. My credit card is in there. Get whatever you need." She stood up, about to go for her bag, but Cane cleared his throat, making her stop mid-step.

  "No need to do all of that. I have some cash on me if you need it, Kandy." Cane slid to the edge of the recliner and pulled his wallet out of his back pocket. I watched with a suddenly dry mouth as he opened it and pulled out a twenty-dollar bill amongst other twenties and hundreds. His cloudy eyes shifted up to mine as he extended his arm and offered it.

  I wanted to decline his offer. I had no problem going out to Mom's car and getting her wallet, but I couldn't act like a stubborn bitch with Cane while Mom was around. I didn't want her asking questions or wondering what was going on between us. I smiled as graciously as I could and accepted the money, tucking it in my bra.

  "Thank you, Cane.” I noticed him watch me tuck it in. It was a brief glance, but he quickly lifted his gaze to mine again, returning a faint smile as he sat back in the recliner again.

  "Of course, Kandy."

  I told Mom I wouldn't be long, but I had no plans to rush back to that room. Yes, I wanted to be there when Dad woke up and yes, I should have been behaving and worrying more about Dad and his health rather than Cane and his body, but it was so, so hard.

  Every time I moved, I could remember the feeling of Cane's fingers playing with my pussy. It's like they were still there, diving deep, bringing me closer and closer to euphoria. Every time I saw him sip his coffee out of the corner of my eye, I remembered those lips on my lips, neck, and all over my skin.

  I didn't go straight to the cafeteria. I went to the bathroom and rushed into one of the stalls. I planted my back against one of the walls and sucked in a deep breath.

  "Get it together, Kandy. Seriously." I was here with Mom and Dad. I was happy to see them after an extremely long night. I needed to focus on that.

  Forget. Forget. Forget.

  After I left the bathroom and grabbed three bacon, egg, and cheese bacon croissants from the cafeteria, I went back to the room with a new mantra ringing in my head.

  Forget. Forget. Forget.

  I couldn't get invested in Cane. I couldn't like him. I couldn't need him. I had to be happy with the fact that I was better off without him.

  With the mantra ringing in my brain, I was back in the room, handing him a sandwich and his change with a warm smile. His eyebrows dipped, like he was confused by the smile and the offer of the sandwich, but he took it all anyway and thanked me.

  He didn't eat his, but Mom and I devoured ours, despite the heavy, gloomy mood weighing over our heads. Who knew distress and anxiety could make a person feel so hungry?

  Two hours passed and Dad still wasn't awake. Cane blew a breath when he realized it, and I knew he had to go by the way he slid to the edge of his seat again, looking between the two of us.

  "I would stay," he said with a sigh, "but I have a business meeting that includes talk about having another Tempt factory opening in Canada. If I didn't have to be there, I would let my secretary handle it. I’d stay here all night if I could." He flashed his wickedly straight teeth.

  Mom stood up. "Oh, Cane, please go. That is your job, and things like that are important. Go," she insisted. "I will let you know when Derek is awake."

  Cane stood and looked at Dad, the pain still swirling in his eyes. With a simple nod of his head, he took a step to the left, toward the door. "Please let me know first thing. When he wakes up, tell him I'll be thinking about him until I can see him again."

  "I will," Mom assured him.

  He exhaled, long and deep, like he didn't want to leave, but he headed for the door anyway. He pulled it open, but before he walked out, his eyes landed on mine. His lips pressed together and as he looked at me, I could have sworn I saw something in his eyes. A small glimpse of sympathy and...longing.

  "Take care, Cane," I called after him before he could go.

  "You too, Kandy Cane," he teased, but I didn't laugh and neither did he. Mom did, but it was a soft, small chuckle, like things were still the same and he was only joking around. Like that name didn't have a deeper, truer meaning to me. He knew it did—knew all too well how it affected me—and he'd called me it anyway.

  Kandy and Cane. His Kandy Cane.

  I watched him go, and when he left, the room didn't feel as crowded. My mind didn't reel chaotically with unrequited, forbidden thoughts, and some of the tension in my body had even faded...but not all of it.

  Why? Because Dad still wasn't awake. Because I'd done wrong last night, and the bonds that had been created were tainted and murky. The lines had blurred now.

  We'd started something—lit an inextinguishable fire in our souls—and that fire was going to burn us inside and out. It was going to consume us whole and probably destroy us.

  The fire was going to blaze like a furnace, and neither of us had time to prepare for it.

  14

  KANDY

  It was around midnight when Dad finally woke up. Neither Mom nor I had fallen asleep. We just waited for what felt like centuries, and when we heard him grunt, and t
hen let out a small sigh, we gasped, because the next thing we saw was magnificent: his dark brown eyes.

  We rushed for him, both of us hugging him at the same time as he chuckled low and deep.

  “Oh, my girls,” Dad sighed, voice raspy. “My girls.”

  We didn’t sleep at all that night. We called for the doctor, who came in about an hour after he was awake. He was checked thoroughly, and the doctor was surprised he wasn’t in more pain than he let on. Still, she gave him morphine to ease it, assuring him that the pain would kick in soon, once the previous dose had worn off.

  “I want you to stick around here for three more days,” Dr. Ambrose told Dad. “I just want to make sure you’re healing properly and that nothing else has been damaged.”

  “Okay. Three days I can do,” he confirmed.

  “I’ll call Cane. He said he wanted to know as soon as you were awake,” Mom chimed, hopping up and going for her handbag. Cane’s name made my booming heart go a little unsteady, but I kept up a smile for Dad. For now.

  “Was he here?” Dad asked after taking a sip of water.

  “Yes. He was around earlier, stayed for about two and half hours. We thought you would have been up before he left. He had a meeting to go to.”

  “Oh. Yeah, bring the phone here. Let me call him,” he insisted. Mom handed him her cell, and Dad pressed the call button.

  “He kept Kandy overnight, too, when things got a little hectic,” Mom added, and I wanted to cup my hand around her mouth and tell her to shush. The reminder was nauseating.

  “Did he? That was really nice of him.”

  “Yeah,” I murmured, but I avoided his eyes.

  Dad put the phone on speaker and rested it on his lap. Then Cane’s voice came through the receiver, and I froze in my seat, staring at the phone.

  “Cane!” Dad boomed lightly.

  “Hey, if it isn’t Mr. Strong-O himself!” Cane boomed back with a light chuckle. “How are you feeling, man? You had me really fucking worried!”

  Dad glanced at me when Cane cursed, but I just shrugged. I was eighteen now. Had been since September 23rd. He couldn’t protect me from curse words and violence anymore. And Cane was a grown man who could say and do whatever the hell he wanted. Like Dad knew that, he continued the conversation.

  “I’m great, man. A little sore here and there, but I’m alive. That’s all that matters.”

  “That’s right,” Cane agreed.

  “Listen, Mindy told me you kept an eye on Kandy the other night…”

  Cane hesitated for a brief moment. It wasn’t too brief, to the point my parents would wonder why he wasn’t responding, but it was enough for me to know that the mere mention of my name was bringing him memories of the night before.

  “Yeah, I did,” Cane responded.

  “I can’t thank you enough for that. Watching over my little girl.” Dad looked at me, and I forced a smile. “She wasn’t too much trouble was she?”

  Cane laughed, but it was most definitely forced. “Not at all, man. She wanted to be there, was a little upset when I wouldn’t take her to the hospital right away, but she understood.”

  Yeah, I understood, all right.

  “That’s good. You know they’re going to have me in here for three more days?”

  “Three? Seventy-two hours of torture, man,” Cane teased.

  “Yeah, being in here isn’t the best, but they’re taking good care of me.”

  “Well, I’ll come see you when I can to make sure you’re comfortable and so your ass doesn’t get too bored in there.”

  Dad chuckled. “Bring beer. That’ll be all the entertainment I need.”

  Mom sucked her teeth, playfully smacking Dad on the shoulder. “You know you can’t have beer while recovering,” she laughed.

  I smiled, lowering my gaze.

  “I’ll see you soon then, and thanks again for taking Kandy in and keeping her in good hands. I know that was a scary night for my girl.”

  “Of course, Derek. Anytime. You focus on recovering, all right? Maybe you’ll get out of there sooner.” He was deflecting. He didn’t want to talk about taking me anymore. I was kind of glad. I wondered just what he was thinking whenever Dad said my name.

  I was certain there was regret.

  Dad was his best friend. Probably his only real friend. I wondered if he would get so consumed by guilt and remorse that he’d actually end up telling Dad all about it one day.

  Would he be that bold?

  Would he put his friendship on the line and risk ruining everything between them over a confession?

  I thought about that for the rest of the night and even the next day. But those thoughts vanished as soon as the door to Dad’s room opened the next day and Cane strolled in, and following behind him was Kelly, with a bouquet of flowers.

  It was clear to me then—with Kelly at his side—that he was never going to tell my dad the truth. He was going to bury it—pretend that what we did had never happened.

  I watched him the entire time. He hugged Mom, so of course he had to hug me too, to keep things normal and casual. It’s what he always did when he saw us for the first time of any day. He couldn’t break the tradition.

  When he hugged me, I sucked in a breath. His arms were tight around me, but not as tight as usual. His scent drove me crazy. He always smelled so good.

  He pulled away, and I looked up into his eyes as Mom, Dad, and Kelly shared a conversation about the bandaged wound on Dad’s neck.

  “You brought her here?” I whispered. “During a time like this?”

  “Don’t start, Kandy,” he mumbled, placing his keys down on the counter. “She wanted to give her condolences.”

  “She could have sent them. She didn’t have to come,” I whisper-hissed.

  “Stop it,” he snapped lightly. “Please, Kandy, just stop it, okay? I—shit. I can’t. I can’t do this with you right now and you know it.”

  Cane looked me hard in the eyes before walking around me and meeting beside Dad. They laughed and their voices boomed as Cane teased him about who the stronger person was now, but I couldn’t find it in me to laugh.

  I couldn’t find it in me to accept what was unfolding right before my very eyes.

  Cane came here with Kelly.

  Did he spend last night with her?

  This morning?

  Did they wake up together?

  All of it hurt my heart much more than it should have. And hell, I could have been assuming things, but when Kelly placed a hand on Cane’s chest and looked into his eyes—an intimate gesture that made my belly clench—I just knew he’d called her over, or he’d told her he was coming to visit.

  Perhaps he wasn’t satisfied and had to find a reasonable woman to unleash himself on and that woman just so happened to be Kelly.

  Did he think about me when he fucked her? Did he remember what he did to me, and pretend she was me?

  I think I found that answer when he and Kelly shared a laugh. His eyes shifted over to mine. He scanned me twice. I wore another dress that day. It was white, stitched with cotton, and stopped just above my knees.

  Cane’s tongue rolled over his bottom lip as he studied me. His eyes were smoldering and hungry. It was a short look. A fleeting glance.

  In that moment, I realized that yes, he had most likely imagined sliding between my legs and stealing my innocence.

  Yes, Quinton Cane still wanted me, despite the realities laid bare right in front of us.

  Despite the friendships and relationships.

  Despite the rights and the wrongs.

  Despite my age and naivety.

  I saw in his eyes the same look I’d seen the night he finger-fucked me, an insatiable hunger and so much lust.

  Even though I knew the consequences—feared knowing my father could find out how I felt about Cane and what I wanted him to do to me—I was tempted to make him sin all over again.

  15

  KANDY

  My father's recovery took a little ove
r a month. He hopped around on crutches and attended therapy sessions to strengthen his leg.

  Even though he asked me to fetch every little thing for him—and had even made me drive to the store in his truck to get him a Snickers bar—I didn't mind doing it. I was thankful he was alive.

  During Dad's recovery, Cane only visited twice, and to my complete and utter satisfaction, Kelly wasn't with him during either visit.

  The first time he came around, he hung out with Dad in the basement that Dad liked to call his man cave. Little did he know that it wasn’t, and that I spent more time down there than he did during the day.

  I heard them talking about the nasty gun wound on Dad’s thigh (that he so often liked to flash to me and Mom, saying it was a battle scar) and they talked about Cane getting the big opportunity to open a Tempt factory in Canada.

  I heard all of this from the kitchen over my lonely dinner at the counter. Mom was working that night—another late shift as divorce attorney Mindy Jennings—and I'd taken Dad's heated-up lasagna down to the basement for him a few minutes prior to Cane’s arrival.

  I should have been bummed when Dad said he wanted to celebrate Cane's big promotion, but I wasn't. I heard talks about the beach and beer, but I stopped eavesdropping when Kelly’s name was mentioned.

  I went upstairs before Cane could come back up, and started typing about my day, which somehow led to typing about my relentless infatuation with him, just like a girl with a crush would.

  Only this wasn't just a crush anymore. This was my heart. My all. This was my love for him...the love he would never, ever understand.

  The second time Cane came around, neither of my parents were home. I was on the sofa in the living room watching reruns of Breaking Bad when the doorbell rang.

  Pushing off the sofa, I slid into my fuzzy pink slippers and shuffled to the door. I expected it to be the delivery guy, seeing as Mom had told me she was expecting a package and wanted me to be on the lookout for it.