Page 42 of Unhinged Cain

His eyebrows rose as he stuffed his hands in his pockets, and as shaken up as I was, I couldn’t deny that something about him had my blood heating up, which was all sorts of wrong. He rubbed the back of his neck, and I clasped my hands in front of my body.

“Please, I’ll pay for your gas, or if you miss out on a call, I will pay for what it will cost you to lose the tow.”

He sighed and nodded. “Alright, but I need to go to my shop first. It’s down the road a ways, but that is where I was heading when I saw your car. I own a garage and was working on a friend’s car that needs parts.”

“That’s completely fine, thank you.” I padded my other pocket, didn’t find my purse, and swore as I spun in a circle.

“If you’re looking for your purse, it’s over there,” the guy said and pointed. “Whoever you were with tossed it.”

“Oh, thank god.” I marched over and bent to pick up the small black purse. “What’s your name,” I asked as I turned toward him.

He gave me a smirk as he stood in front of the truck. I gripped my purse tighter as I stepped closer once more. His eyes were intense, like they were swallowing me whole even though he hadn’t moved.

“Cain,” he held out his hand.

“Kirby,” I said and reached for his hand. As our hands met, I sucked in a deep breath as the sexy dreams I’d been having of this man rushed to the surface of my mind. His hand was firm and warm, and I had to force myself to release it. “You have really nice hands,” I said. Clearing my throat, I felt compelled to explain. “I was expecting rougher hands with the type of work you do.”

Awkward much?

Turning, I practically sprinted to the passenger side of the truck. I had no idea where that random comment came from, but he didn’t acknowledge my strange outburst as he got in beside me. If an award could be handed out for the worst day ever, I think I may have won.

It couldn’t get any worse than almost being raped by my ex.

CAIN

There are just sometimes in this life that I had to wonder if there really was a God, and if there was, did he hate his creations as much as I did? I had a whole plan on how to kidnap Kirby. I’d spent all last night mapping it out to the letter, and then Peter, oh so generously, helped me out. He made my plan so easy that I couldn’t even believe it. The man was still going to meet the end of my blade, and as Kirby sat quietly beside me, I deemed it was going to be a far sweeter kill with her watching.

My cock had been rock hard the moment she touched my hand, but the scent of her skin filling the cab of my truck made it hard to think about anything other than getting her under me. Even though the truck was warm, she pulled the coat around her body tighter and stared out the window. I figured that this was one of those moments I should be feeling bad that her night was going to take another turn, and yet that wasn’t me. Why should I feel bad that the fly flew into the center of the web I was already making?

I stopped at the metal gate to put the code into the keypad entrance. The little boxed beeped as I entered in the nine-digit code. You could never be too safe.

“Seems like a pretty remote area to need a large metal gate,” she said as I leaned out the window.

“All the more reason to have security. My shop always has many client vehicles parked around it, and people see a remote area as a good spot to steal from. I wouldn’t want an upset client because their vehicle was broken into,” I said as the metal slowly began to swing open and grant us entry. “Bad for business.”

I could almost hear the quickening of her heart as we pulled through the gates and the headlights of the truck showed the long driveway with the overgrown grass and old trees that fanned out on either side. During the day, it was quite a pretty drive if you were into that sort of thing, but it had an unsettling ambiance at night. Also made it very difficult to get through and sneak up to the house without setting off one of the cameras or motion detectors.

Sunshine swallowed hard, and I could feel her sigh as the bouncing truck rounded the last corner to reveal the shop I kept as neat as a pin and our sweet-looking old farmhouse. I’d already closed the gardens up, but there were a few of the perennials that liked the cooler weather flourishing. They swayed next to the little solar lights that were glowing brightly.

“Wow, this is a really pretty spot,” she said and looked around.

“Thank you. It was my parents’ place but I took the property over when they passed away. I just really thought this place suited me more than moving. Lots of memories here,” I said and hopped out of the truck, but Kirby remained in the passenger seat. “Are you not getting out?”

“Oh, I didn’t think we were going to be long. I was going to see if I could call—”

She looked down at her phone, and I knew she didn’t have anyone to call. Not really. Her mother, maybe, but the only other person on her saved list of people from this state was the man that just assaulted her.

“No, I won’t be too long, but I need to take care of a couple of things.” I gave a half-hearted shrug and made sure that my body didn’t give off any vibes that she was in danger. But she was most certainly in danger. She had been the moment I saw her for the first time. “You can call whoever you need to in here if you want.”

Kirby didn’t say anything, but she reached for the handle. The old truck door squeaked as she pushed it open and got out. I made sure to walk slowly and with purpose toward the shop as I pulled out the keys to unlock the door. Flicking on the light, I began milling around and patiently waited for Kirby to step inside. This game of seeing just how far I could get her to go on her own was highly entertaining. Maybe I could get her to climb into her cage too. It wasn’t really a cage per se, but the idea was the same.

I wandered around the front of the car I was currently fixing and over to the small bar fridge. Smirking as I heard her footsteps on the concrete floor, I bent over to open it. I pulled out two beers and made my way around to the door. She was rigid, her body on alert as her eyes searched every corner for the boogeyman that was right in front of her.

Holding out the beer, I asked, “Would you like a drink?”

“I didn’t think we were staying long? You said you needed to pick something up,” she said as she stared between the beer in my hand and my face.

“You’re right. I did say that.” I cracked open one of the cans and took a sip.