by L. B. Dunbar
“Hey yourself,” came the deep voice of someone I’d recognize anywhere.
Cain.
He motioned for the girl to move then he circled the couch and sat heavily next to me. He hardly sat down when a man in a suit approached us.
“Gentlemen, I’m Spence Draper, the manager. I’m hoping you two are finding everything to your liking this evening,” he spoke with a forced smile.
“I’d be liking it more if you’d move,” Cain replied with a wave of his hand, attempting to dismiss the man. “You’re blocking my view.”
I looked around Mr. Draper to see what drew Cain’s attention. Convinced it could be any one of the girls on the dance floor, performing for him in hopes to snare him, I was surprised to find Sofie Vincentia front and center. Her attention was anywhere but on Cain, though. Her back was toward our table as she moved. A soft cuff came to my head, and I turned to my brother, who tweaked his lip.
“Gentlemen,” Mr. Draper coughed. “I’m hoping there won’t be any funny business in here, if you take my meaning.”
“Do I look like a funny guy?” Cain barked, as I was about to cower and assure Mr. Draper we understood his meaning. He didn’t want an encore fight to take place in the bar.
“Mr. Callahan, you look like you don’t understand humor one bit,” Spence replied with a slight tug of a smile. Cain fumed next to me. His hand twitched on his lap. Ruthie materialized from somewhere.
“Is there a problem?” she interjected. Mr. Draper’s eyes drew to hers. He blinked once then shook his head. I turned to see my new assistant hold him in a death stare with her reflecting glasses and stern expression. Too bad I knew she could blush like a teenager. I couldn’t take her seriously.
“Enjoy the view,” Mr. Draper said, letting his eyes run up and down Ruthie. I stood while Cain grabbed my arm to hold me still.
“I meant that view.” Mr. Draper turned slightly to allow a better visual of the dance floor. It was a mistake. Cain was on his feet as well.
“Gentlemen,” Mr. Draper warned again. “A hint of fighting and you’re out.” Spence Draper was suddenly the one to look severe.
“Well, I’m simply having a congratulatory drink with my brother,” Cain said sarcastically, wrapping his arm around my neck in a familiar hold. The tattoo of his arm was front and center for Mr. Draper: I am my brother’s keeper, scrolled down the left arm enfolding me in a familiar, teasing chokehold.
“Let’s keep it that way,” Spence expressed to us, nodded at Ruthie, and walked away to greet people at the next table.
“Mr. Callahan,” she said and we both replied with a yes. I was about to laugh, but the charm was on from Cain.
“And who might you be?” Cain sneered, yet it was slightly flirtatious. If I knew my new assistant, which I didn’t, I’d bet she was three shades of red just looking at my brother. Unfortunately, with the pulsating lights, it was hard to tell what color she was other than a flash of royal blue, bright fuchsia or neon yellow.
“I’m Mr. Callahan’s personal assistant, Mr. Callahan,” she addressed Cain directly. Cain raised an eyebrow similar to me and turned his attention to look at me. I just shook my head and for the first time, my brother laughed. An honest laugh that I couldn’t remember hearing, even as a kid.
“Jeez, you worked fast, Abel,” he teased.
“Mr. Jacobson hired her, not me.”
I looked to see the slightest of flinch in Ruthie’s face. If I had known her better I might have thought I hurt her feelings. She came across like she was tough enough, except for the blushing.
“How’s Dad taking things?” I asked to change the subject.
“Let’s not talk about him,” Cain sighed. He looked up at Ruthie.
“Can you give us a few minutes?” Cain inquired, but it was more a demand. He wanted her gone. Looking at the other hangers-on milling around the couch and the private seating area, Cain dismissed people as well. He soothed the sting with the ladies by a subtle rub up the thigh or a tug of their hand. The returning smile of these women said they’d do anything he asked and more. I could almost smell the unhad sex amongst them as they stepped away one-by-one.
“This isn’t for you, Abel,” Cain began.
“Why? Because I don’t have your charm?” I laughed bitterly.
“No, because it just isn’t you. You aren’t a user, and these women will want to use you, Abel, not the other way around.”
“You don’t think I can use women?” I scoffed, defending my manly honor.
“I know you have, but this is different,” he said, leveling me with a stare. Cain knew of the prostitutes in my past, only because he received the same gift when he was sixteen. He laughed in my father’s face. He wasn’t a virgin then. The result was a back handed cuff to the cheek and a demand to appreciate the gift.
“You’re more a one woman kind of guy,” Cain said, shifting in his seat, as his eyes focused out in the direction of the dance floor.
“And what about you? Have you been a one woman kind of guy?” The accusation was present. I still couldn’t believe what I thought he said on our way down to the mat.
“I’ve been as faithful as I could,” he said, softly looking down at the drink in his hand. He swirled the liquid around in the crystal and then drank deep. He slammed it on the table before us and sat back. His left arm came to rest casually on the couch behind me. It was my turn to sit forward. Cain watched me move. I turned my attention to the dance floor this time.
“So nothing really happened with Elma?” I questioned, needing assurance again. He’d told me in the heat of the fight. She’d told me in the heat of a disagreement.
“I didn’t touch, Elma,” he said firmly.
“I saw you kiss her forehead the next morning,” I stated the fact. “What was that all about?”
“Abel, how do you think Elma got to your room that night? Do you think for one minute our father would let her leave mine without an escort?”
I swung my head to questioningly stare at him over my shoulder. I shook my head. It couldn’t have been possible. Cain walked Elma to my room?
“But after she left me, she still could have…or you could have…”
Cain looked away from me. I couldn’t get out the words anyway. I didn’t want to imagine him touching her, tasting her, having her like I had.
“Do you really think so little of me that I’d steal your girl?” he questioned, staring back at me.
“Did you think I’d stolen yours?” I retorted, suddenly remembering that my brother had an obsession with Sofie. More than an obsession with her, and with good reason, and no reason, he believed I’d developed a relationship with her.
“Yes,” he paused. “Yes, I did think that. But now I don’t.” His eyes remained on the chestnut beauty, who rocked her hips on the dance floor, ignoring the hard glare of my brother.
“Elma’s here,” I informed him.
“I know,” Cain replied, tearing his eyes off Sofie for a moment.
“You know?” I squeaked, a familiar fear traveling through me.
“How do you think she got here?” Cain answered. He leaned forward, bracing his elbows on his knees. “Just to be clear, she’s here for you. Not me.” With that he stood and stalked off toward the dance floor.
I returned to Lindee’s suite to find Lindee pacing the room. Her expression matched my heart. She looked broken. Was it from watching the fight? Was it too much for my friend? Did seeing Cain pounding his brother renew the memories of Cain’s beating of my brother? While I certainly had my own issues about Cain punching Abel, I was willing to set them aside for my friend.
“Lindee, what’s wrong?” I reached for her and she jumped. Her eyes opened wide and she stared at me startled.
“Lindee?” I questioned and she burst into tears. My arms enveloped her. Although I wanted someone to hold me, it felt good to hold someone else for a moment. Lindee sobbed into my shoulder. My strong friend was frightening me, and I told her as much.
&
nbsp; “Lindee, what happened? Did something happen to you?” My voice grew higher, as I feared that the excitement of the crowd led to rowdy fans who believed they could act however they wished in the euphoria of a fight. I pushed Lindee back to assess her. Her makeup ran down her face. Her eyes were swollen from tears. Her hair looked disheveled, but I couldn’t see outwardly anything else that was askew.
“I…Creed…and I…I just…”
“Did Creed hurt you? Lindee, did he touch you and you didn’t want him to? I’ll kill him,” I growled, gripping the arms of my best friend.
“No…no nothing like that. I…I made a mistake.” Her shoulders heaved and a sob escaped again.
“Did you sleep with him?” My words brought Lindee’s eyes up to mine. The almond color glistened as she shook her head.
My eyebrows pinched in confusion. “Then what happened?”
“I wanted to,” she whimpered and began to cry again. I didn’t mean to, but I laughed. I didn’t understand how this was an issue.
“I’m sorry,” I said as she glanced up at me. “I didn’t mean to laugh. I don’t understand.”
“He didn’t want to sleep with me,” she cried, covering her face with her hands. I bit my lip again. She had to be mistaken. It was obvious that Creed McAllister wanted Lindee Parks desperately. He had to have a reason to deny her.
“How do you know this?” I questioned.
“I threw myself at him and he refused me.”
I bit the inside of my cheek to suppress the giggle. I didn’t believe it. Creed couldn’t ever keep his eyes off Lindee. I didn’t believe he would keep his hands off her, if she offered herself to him. There had to be a mistake.
“I’m so embarrassed,” she sobbed. I pulled my friend back to me and wrapped my arms around her. Poor Lindee; she needed Creed. I wanted to think him an asshole, but I was willing to bet there was a misunderstanding.
“We’re quite a pair,” I laughed humorlessly. Lindee shook her head against my shoulder then pulled back from me.
“Why? What happened with Abel?”
“He refused me, too.” I smiled weakly. “And then I saw him with another woman.”
“No, I don’t believe it,” Lindee breathed. I had to laugh internally as Lindee’s words where my thoughts about her.
“Yep, in the hall, outside the bar. He was leaning into her.” My voice faltered. I didn’t want to cry. I’d already lost a tear or two over Abel on the way up to Lindee’s suite. The image of Abel, leaning over the girl in a suit, reminded me of our first encounter in Thor’s room. That was months ago and I was a fool. The irony of being in Thor’s room wasn’t lost on me. I was in the room of whom I thought I wanted, but the man I needed had been right in front of me. I wasn’t paying enough attention, like Abel had accused me.
“Did you ask him what the hell he was doing?” Lindee commented, her voice growing stronger. “Ask him how he could be with another woman when he loves you?” The anger in her voice hinted at the possibility of this being a past argument between Lindee and Montana.
“I don’t think Abel loves me, Lindee. Or if he did, it is past tense,” I sighed heavily and sank down on the couch behind me. Lindee twisted to sit next to me.
“Do you love him?”
My answer was an immediate, “Yes.”
“You need to confront him. You need to make him see you.”
I found it ironic that my friend was suddenly giving me the advice she should have been taking herself.
“I need to move on, that’s what I need to do. I’ve made a huge mess of things with Abel.” I shook my head. The list of my indiscretions was long.
“If you love him, I wouldn’t give up on him yet. I loved your brother and he loved me in his own way, but I would have given anything for it to be the way Abel loves you. He just fought his brother for you. He won to keep you away from Cain,” her voice rose.
“That wasn’t about me.”
“Yes it was. That fight started because of you. You wanted Thor for your revenge plan. When he was scorned, he went to Atom. It was an opportunity for him, but Abel took the challenge for you–he wanted to keep you safe from them. He was willing to fight his brother for you, Elma. It was stupid, but it was love that made him fight.”
“He’ll never forgive me for getting him into this mess. Thor telling his father about the fight. Him paying for my tuition. His father thinking I owed Cain.” I ticked off the list of guilty actions on my fingers.
“Have you told Abel you’re sorry?”
“Why? There’s too much to say.”
Lindee shook her head at me.
“Apologize, because he’ll forgive you. You need to take the chance, Elma.”
I laughed again. “How do you know?”
“Because Abel might have just fought the fight of his life for you, but he’s a lover at the core. He just needs to listen to you. You need to explain yourself. Take the chance, Elma. Sometimes it’s all we have.”
I stared at my friend. If only she could practice her own advice with Creed. If it was so easy, why hadn’t it worked for her?
After Cain’s words, I returned to my suite. I’d had enough celebration. I expected to find Creed in my rooms, but he was still absent. My coach had her own room, and she’d been missing ever since the end of the fight. Kursch tried to corner her when he came to congratulate me, but she brushed right past him without a word of acknowledgement. “Still feisty,” he muttered before following her exit.
I needed to shower. I wanted to wash the second half of the night off of me: the touching, the grabbing, the stale scent of women on me. I had tugged off my t-shirt and was crossing the room for the en suite bathroom, when a knock on the door redirected my path. I was laughing as I opened it expecting to find Creed on the other side, too drunk to remember he had a key.
“Elma?” I questioned, choking on my laughter. Her eyes were red rimmed eyes and devoid of make-up. She was such a natural beauty and her light blue eyes sparkled up at me filled with hurt.
“Can I just have five minutes, and then I’ll leave you alone?”
I stepped back from the door, allowing her entrance. Closing it softly, I turned to find she’d walked across the living space to the brightly lit window. It was as if we were in a fish tank and the world existed outside of us. The city of Las Vegas spilled out before us. Lights dotted and lined various directions of sin. This was the adult playground, and I knew all too well what some adults liked to play in this city.
“It’s so beautiful and so dangerous,” she began. “Montana, he wanted it all. He thought living near it would bring it to him. He worked hard. Too hard. It cost him his life,” she added, resting her forehead against the glass.
“I blamed Cain. You already know I did. It was easier to blame him than Montana. I had too much faith in him as my brother, as my protector. When he was gone, there was no one there to take care of me. My mother was worthless. She couldn’t take care of herself. I realized slowly that I was becoming her. I didn’t do for myself either. I had to find a way to get it back. Get some of my life back, but you can’t ever go back, Abel, right? You can’t change what’s happened.”
She turned to me. “I’m so sorry, Abel. For everything.” Her blue eyes sparkled in the reflection of light that was floors below us and yet radiated upward like a reversed heaven.
I sighed, “Well, I’m not.”
She continued to stare at me.
“I don’t regret one second of being with you, Elma. But I take it for what it was. It’s the past, too, right?”
She looked away from me then, rolling her forehead against the glass, staring back out of the bowl at the neon lights of an active city.
“I don’t want it to be in the past.”
Elma was a constant conundrum. Just like when she came to me after that fight, the one where I kissed her and I thought she didn’t like it. She had hinted then that she wanted more from me. When we kissed in the stairwell, and I thought she was pushing me aw
ay, she leapt for me after a momentary breather. Elma was like the fish that swam up to the surface, then dove down to the bottom. I couldn’t understand her constant change of direction.
“Elma, you confuse me. I can’t reconcile that I’m so pissed off at you one minute, and yet I want to spread you on every surface in this room the next and have my way with you.”
She twisted her body to face mine and began to slowly unbutton that transparent blouse with the dark bra underneath.
“What are you doing?” I choked.
“I want you to spread me on every surface, too. And then, when you’re done being pissed at me, I’d like you to try to love me. Because I love you, Abel. I have for a while, you just wouldn’t let me tell you.”
I stepped toward her and covered her hands that shook with the unbuttoning of the final button.
“Wait? What?”
With my hands over hers, she tugged open her blouse.
“Tell me again,” I whispered harshly. My voice rasped like water over pebbles.
“I love you.”
Keeping my hands over hers, she dragged our collective hands back to her shoulders, under her bra straps and slid the silky material to the sides. I studied her as my hands fell from hers, and she removed the remainder of her bra. I reached out and covered each breast in kind. Elma arched forward and I squeezed tight, rolling the nipples to ripe peaks between my fingers. She squeaked but when I released her she whispered, “Don’t stop. Love me, Abel.”
My mouth crashed over hers and her hands went into my hair. Holding the back of my head, she climbed my body, like she’d done in the past, and I took us down to the floor. We weren’t going to wait for a bed. My hands worked quickly to unbutton her jeans while her hands fumbled to work my zipper. We were a mix of fingers and wrapped legs, until I finally released her mouth.
“What are we doing, Elma?” I questioned out of breath. I sat back to continue the removal of her jeans, tugging her underwear with them. She lay before me bare and sprawled in the middle of the open floor space. Artificial lights reflected into the room. This wasn’t under the heavens full of stars like the first night. I intended to worship her in this light of sin. My hands rubbed upward from her ankles to behind her knees, where I pulled them apart, forcing them to bend. She was open to me in the harsh light of the room, but I didn’t care. Elma was an oasis of paradise in the hellish desert of my life. She might have been a mirage at first, tempting me, but I intended to prove she could quench my thirst.
