Cain's Darkness

by Jenika Snow

  He leaned forward another inch, dropped his voice to a low whisper, “Things will work out, Violet. Don’t worry about anything.” The look in his eyes was violent, deadly, and he was not even blinking as he watched her. “Everything will work out exactly the way it is supposed to, understand me?”

  She nodded.

  “Carl, that motherfucking prick, will get exactly what he deserves tenfold.” Cain’s voice was undeniably hard and true, and she knew that there was no doubt Cain and his men would deliver on the promise of making this right. The truth was she didn’t want them getting involved, that if she had the means she would have made sure Carl suffered by her own hands. But Cain was already invested in this, not going to back down, and she knew that no matter what she said or did he would handle this on his own terms. He took her hand again, squeezed it tight, and breathed out as if he were in pain.

  “I wrote, called, and I miss you, Cain. I miss the family I have with you and Fallina. Blocking me out isn’t what I want, and I hope it isn’t what you want either.”

  He shook his head, but didn’t respond right away. Minutes seemed to move by agonizingly slow, but she knew it was seconds that skated by at a snail’s pace.

  “You can’t come back, Violet. You can’t. Don’t write, don’t call, and don’t fucking ever come back to this shithole. You’re better than this, better than me.” He stopped talking for a second, as if to let those words penetrate. “What you think you want with me will never happen, because I’m a dirty biker bastard, and you deserve so much better.”

  “Don’t tell me what I should and shouldn’t want, Cain—”

  “Violet, I don’t want you anywhere close to this murder pit where assholes run around and have little care for the human population. They’d destroy you, sweetheart, and then I’d have to destroy them.”

  She wouldn’t cry at his harsh words, and even if she knew he was only doing this, pushing her away, because he wanted her safe, she had to believe that he felt something more for her, something as monumental as she did for him. Violet stared at him, watched as he rose to his huge height, and then he leaned forward and kissed her on the forehead. Violet closed her eyes, clenched her jaw at her emotions, and breathed out when he pulled back. He stared at her for a moment, then left her alone in that sterile, lonely room.

  ****

  Violet had left the prison hours ago, and Cain found himself in his cell, with his metal trunk open, and staring at the stacks of letters she’d written to him over the years. The truth was he didn’t want her to back off and leave him alone. He cared about her, more than a man like him should, and he wanted her in his life. She was a woman now, smart and mature, making something with her life, but all he thought about was the fact he wanted to fucking tear out that rapist bastard’s throat. If Carl had been in the joint his molesting, raping ass would have gotten it hard and good by the other inmates. Men in here were violent murderers, arsonists, rapists, and burglars, but hell, bring in a man that hurt a child and everyone joined together to make sure the offender was taught a hard lesson and paid for his crime with his life.

  “Hey, man.” Goon, the man he shared this piece of shithole in the wall with, stepped inside the cell, a towel in hand, and the standard issue jumpsuit open at the collar. “You coming to work out in the yard?”

  “Yeah.” Cain shut the metal trunk and moved out of the cell with Goon leading. They had an hour for activities, outside in the yard, as it was called. The outdoor, barbwire fenced and bricked-in courtyard was on the south end of the building, and it was only because Cain had been on good behavior that he was given some leniency. They entered the caged-in outside square of space. Some prisoners were leaning against the chain-link fence that separated the courtyard into two sections, while others played basketball using the several hoops in the far corner. A row of workout equipment, aged by the sun and worn by the weather, was being used by a group of white supremacists. There were guards stationed all around the courtyard, some even in the towers above them with their guns trained at the prisoners. The barbed wire atop the fencing that kept them all housed in was harsh in appearance. It was meant to keep others from getting out, but also from anyone getting in.

  He walked over to the set of bench-presses that were on the left hand side, currently not in use because half of the men were being ushered back inside because their hour was up. Cain set his towel down, took off his shirt, and Goon went behind him to be the spotter while he lifted. For the next twenty minutes Cain pumped the bar up and down, felt sweat cover his body, his muscles burn from the power he was wielding, and finally had Goon set the bar back on the arms. He sat up, grabbed the towel, and as he wiped the sweat off of his face and chest he glanced around the courtyard. A small gang known as Aullies had formed while inside the prison. It wasn’t as large as the other already formed groups, but they tended to start shit with people they thought disrespected them. That particular group stared at him, three of them huddling in a corner as the rest of their men were ushered inside. Cain knew the leader of this particular gang had it out for him. This was the first time they had been in the same area after their last altercation three months before, when the little asshole had tried to say Cain had to give up an extra set of his uniform. Cain wasn’t having that shit, didn’t bow down for anyone, and after a scuffle, and being called a pussy because he wasn’t about to ruin his good behavior record, he backed off. It wasn’t something Cain ever did, because he always stood his ground and fucked up an asshole that came up to him, but he needed to be out and with his girls.

  “You think they’ll have the balls to come over here and start shit?” Goon asked and went over to the bench to start his workout.

  Cain gave one more swipe over his chest with the towel, stood and went over to spot Goon. He glanced at the group of bikers that he associated with while in here, and because there were no Brothers of Menace inside at the moment, he still had to rely on back-up from other groups. It was a necessary evil, and because a person couldn’t be on their own while inside it was important to form alliances.

  “I think he’s going to try, but I can’t risk my record getting fucked up.” Cain looked over at the guards currently standing the closest to them. “But if I don’t show this bastard up he won’t stop.”

  “I got cha’,” Goon said and walked over to the bikers. Cain kept his focus on the punk staring him down, and then looked over at the group of men Goon spoke with. The leader of that particular group of bikers nodded over to Cain, and sent a couple of his guys over to where some others were playing basketball. Then all hell broke loose as a fight broke out between the bikers and players. That was Cain’s chance and cue to get this done while the guards were occupied. The little bastard across the courtyard realized that, too, then came charging toward Cain. The other bikers moved forward, not to help in the fight, because Cain didn’t want that, but to block the sight so the guards wouldn’t be able to see what was happening.

  The prick, who called himself Boomer, stopped when he was right in front of Cain. “You ready to get your ass handed to you this time?”

  The sound of the fighting on the basketball court sounded like a riot had broken out. Shouting, orders, and curses rang through the air. Cain didn’t respond, just braced his feet apart and waited for Boomer to come forward. They grappled for a few moments, and Cain saw the glint of the shank in Boomer’s hands. He jabbed the sharpened piece of metal toward Cain’s side, but he blocked him, took the asshole to the ground, and was able to get the shank out of his hands. Cain held his hand around Boomer’s throat, but the fucker knocked him in the jaw. Cain tasted blood as his teeth cut into the inside of his cheek, and rage burst through Cain like a wrecking ball destroying a building. He slammed his fist into the other man over and over again, saw the blood come from his mouth and nose, and cover Cain’s knuckles.

  “I’m going to fuck you up when you’re not looking, maybe even go after that pretty little slit that left just earlier today.”

 
Cain saw red at Boomer’s words. He knew that just because someone was locked up didn’t mean they couldn’t get things done on the outside. Cain took the shank, and without thinking jabbed it into the side of Boomer. The man grunted, and Cain twisted the metal so the wound wouldn’t close.

  “You don’t fuck with what’s mine. You don’t even talk or think about what is mine,” Cain said in a seething voice.

  “Yo, break it up.” Goon said over his shoulder.

  Cain glanced up and saw the fight over by the basketball court was being broken up. He moved off of Boomer, who still was on the ground, now curled up and bleeding out.

  “Come on, go through the south entrance,” Goon and the other bikers said, and Cain took off, not about to be caught having severely injured an inmate. That would have fucked with his parole, and could have also put more years on his sentence. He followed Goon and a few of the bikers inside, and glanced over his shoulder to see a few guards rushing over to Boomer. The fucker wouldn’t speak, not unless he wanted to be called out as a rat, which would only get him in a lot of shit with everyone in the joint. No matter what group a person was in while locked up, what race or gang, no one snitched anyone out. That was a death sentence.

  Cain headed inside, went right to his cell with his hand shoved in this pocket to hide the blood, and once inside he cleared off his knuckles. He watched the blood run down the drain until the water turned clear, then braced his hands on the small metal basin of the sink and stared at his reflection in the dull plastic mirror on the wall. He’d get out of here early, and do what he needed to do. That was his driving force, and no one would fuck with that.

  Chapter Three

  Present day

  Violet stared at the woman, her psychologist that she’d been seeing off and on for the last few years since the attack, and noticed the way Doctor Yen watched her with interest. It had been a long, long time since Violet had been back to talk to the therapist, but she also knew that she wasn’t one hundred percent better either. Maybe at one time she thought she had been, even convinced herself that the therapy hadn’t been working, but the truth was it had been, and she wanted to talk to someone about how she felt about Cain.

  “How are you’re feeling today Violet? It’s been a long time since we have spoken together.”

  Violet nodded and looked around the office. The building she was in currently held a doctor’s practice, a lawyer’s office, real-estate agent, and her therapist’s office. It was the only professional building in Chatham View, and her therapist, although not one that was a big-shot in Denver or a bigger city, had helped her immensely over the last few years.

  “Violet, is there anything you want to talk about, or if you prefer we can just sit here?”

  That was genuine sincerity in Doctor Yen’s voice, and Violet knew that she would be more than happy to sit here and let Violet stare off into space. That was the nice thing about coming here: Violet wasn’t expected to do anything she wasn’t comfortable with, even if that was just talking. She looked at her therapist, an older woman with short black and grey hair, flat ironed and swooped to the side. Her dark eyes were partially hidden behind thick black rims, ones that looked stylish and not gaudy. Violet had started seeing Dr. Yen when she was having a hard time concentrating, and partially because Fallina had said it was helping her.

  “I just thought coming here might help since I haven’t been able to let my mind get past Cain.”

  “Mmhmm,” Doctor Yen said, and jotted something down on her notepad. “This is the man in the motorcycle club, the one that is in jail because he attacked the man that harmed you and his daughter?”

  Violet nodded and looked at her hands. She twisted her fingers together, knew that the therapist may not be able to steer her in the direction that would help clear her mind, but she had to try to see if coming back helped.

  “Violet, do you think maybe you feel this love, this connection, for this man because you see him as your savior?”

  This wasn’t a new question, just one Violet had avoided answering. “No, I don’t think that is the fact.”

  “Do you think maybe you see Cain as someone who is like a father figure, and that is why you have this strong attachment to him?”

  “Sure, I saw him as a father figure while growing up, but something changed after he was put away.”

  “Mmhmm,” Doctor Yen said again and jotted down some more notes. “Let’s recap, Violet.” The therapist stared at her and smiled gently. “Your mother wasn’t in the picture, and you don’t remember her, right?”

  Violet nodded.

  “Your father was an alcoholic that would verbally abuse you on your looks and weight.”

  “Yeah, that’s correct.” As strange as it was hearing it from someone else, Violet had moved past her father’s emotional abuse. She didn’t let it shape her. What was consuming her since she was sixteen was Cain, and of course those lingering feelings of disgust when she thought about the man that had hurt her.

  “Then the man,” Dr. Yen looked down at her notes, “Carl Brungarden, raped you when you were sixteen.” The therapist didn’t phrase it like a question. “It’s been a very long time since we’ve talked, Violet. How have you been dealing with that?”

  Violet looked down at her hands again. “I don’t think about Carl, or at least I try not to. Sometimes I look in the mirror and see something ugly, picture his hands holding me down, but it hasn’t controlled me or any relationships I’ve tried to have.”

  The doctor nodded.

  “I’m not damaged though. Carl doesn’t have that kind of control over me. And no, I don’t think the rape, or my father, has anything to do with what I feel for Cain.”

  The doctor didn’t move and didn’t say anything, just let Violet speak, and right now that was what Violet needed.

  “Violet, I think you’ve come a long way, and are doing remarkably well for someone with the life, the past you have had.”

  “Thank you. I think I’m doing well in life, too, but I just can’t get my feelings for Cain to diminish, not even after all these years.”

  She nodded. “Do you want the feelings to diminish?”

  Violet thought about that. “No, I don’t, but I also know I can’t possibly have anything with him in that way.”

  “And why is that?”

  “Because he isn’t the type of man that settles down, especially not with a woman like me, his daughter’s best friend.”

  “Violet, maybe speaking to Cain will help in you moving forward, help you make that first step.”

  “He’s pushed me away, and I’ve stayed away because I don’t want to make things bad between us.”

  “There isn’t a timeframe where you have to move on, where you have to stop thinking about the past. That takes time, and is why you have seen me in the past and now. You need to just get through it one day at a time.” She smiled at Violet. “But you have to start with yourself first, worry about making you whole and right before you try and focus on taking the next step in that direction.”

  Violet knew Doctor Yen was telling the truth, and knew that although she was doing very well in her life, she wouldn’t be able to just work on herself and not worry about what she wanted with Cain. She loved him, and that was not an emotion she wanted to lose. The past hadn’t weakened her, but made her stronger.

  ****

  Cain felt the wind on his face, the freedom run through his veins. He was finally out of this piece of shit place and would be able to exact his revenge, and be with his girls. He stopped and waited for the gates to open and let him out. But there wasn’t any welcoming committee on the other side, just a black SUV with a pierced and tatted up motherfucker wearing a Brothers of Menace Prospect cut, and looking a little apprehensive.

  Good, he should be a little frightened in Cain’s presence. Cain walked through to the outside, took a second to revel in the fact he was finally out, and glanced at the guard that stood on the other side.

  Fuck you, motherfuc
ker.

  “Have a fan-fucking-tastic-day,” he said instead of what he really thought. He grinned, and the guard didn’t move, didn’t even crack a smile or snarl. Cain walked up to the prospect, eyed the man up and down, and commented on the fact he was a big asshole. He’d be a good addition to the club for muscle alone, but then again it would all depend on how loyal and true to the MC he was. They didn’t want any weak bastard wearing their cuts.

  “I’m Pierce, brother.” The prospect held his hand out.

  Cain eyed the outstretched hand. “I’m not your brother.” He moved past Pierce, and climbed in the front seat. Pierce stayed by the passenger side door for a few seconds, then walked around the front of the SUV. He had this fierce look on his face, and Cain smirked. The man better toughen up. If he thought Cain would embrace him right off the bat, without even knowing shit about the man, his feelings would get hurt a hell of a lot. Cain didn’t trust many people aside from the men in his club, and until Pierce showed himself and proved his loyalty, he was just another schmuck on the fucking street to Cain.

  Pierce got in the driver’s seat, started the engine, and glanced Cain’s way. “Man, lots of shit has happened since you were in, and a lot of it ain’t good.”

  Great, just what Cain needed right now, but then again, when he was part of an MC, things didn’t always run smoothly. That was the violent, dangerous life they led, and being front and center when the shit hit the fan was all part of being in the brotherhood.

  ****

  Several weeks later

  Cain kicked open the front doors of the clubhouse, his body full of adrenaline, his blood pumping, and the need to finish this once and for all consuming him. The guys were playing cards at a table inside, and when Cain stepped in they all stood. Carl was already half dead, busted and bruised, and spilling blood on the club floor, and Cain wanted him hurting even more. They stared at each other, the club members looking confused and a little curious as to what was going on.