Page 68 of Cry, Little Dove

Wyatt poses behind Charlotte, one hand on her shoulder. He’s giving a forced grin like he’s trying to hide how much he wants to jump out of his perfectly tailored, dark suit and shiny dress shoes. Clean-shaven and without the hat and boots, he looks like a whole other man.

Cain steps beside me, inhaling a long drag as he takes the picture from my hands. Smoke comes from his mouth in a sigh. “Dad was a good man and I loved him, but he was too soft. He could never say no to mother. He never had the guts to do what he had to do.”

“Whatshouldhe have done?”

Cain scoffs. “Not given a shit about our family’s reputation and made her go into rehab, right when she showed the first signs of addiction. He should have forced her if he had to. He knew her drinking got worse over the years. All the pressure from her job and the estrangement from her family because they hated dad… I think it was harder on mother than she let on. I should’ve been there for her more.”

Emotions swell in my throat and I put a hand on Cain’s arm. “That sounds like such a complicated situation, especially with children caught in the middle of it. But you can’t blame yourself, you were just a kid.”

“Yeah, I was a kid at first, but then I grew up. If I tried harder to put aside my own frustration as an adult… maybe if I tried to talk to her and convinced her to stop drinking, they’d be here with us now.”

The grief in his eyes cracks my chest down the middle.

“It’s not your fault, Cain. You can’t force someone to get sober, no matter how much you want them to. They have to want it themselves.”

He shakes his head, and I’m not sure he heard me when he continues speaking. “And maybe if they were still here when Amanda got sick, I wouldn’t have had to—” He cuts himself off with a sarcastic laugh. “Doesn’t matter. The past is in the past. I can’t undo it, but I can learn from it.”

Cain puts the picture back and wraps his free arm around my waist, pressing me against him.

“I mightlooklike my dad, but I won’t make the same mistakes. I’ll do what I must to protect my family and that includes you, Erica. That’s why I brought you here today.” He kisses my forehead. “You’re the most important person in the world to me now, and I’d do anything to make you happy. We might not have met like a normal couple, but I want this to work, darlin’. No more of this power imbalance. I want us to be partners on a level playing field based on trust, and I think you’re ready.”

I blink. Cain has talked about marriage before. Of keeping me. And of killing me if I ever run from him. But he’s never spoken so openly about trust. The whole time we’ve been together, I’ve been his prey, not an equal.

He must have broken me after all, because tears sting my eyes. Not tears of fear or anger, but tears of joy.

No one has ever chosen me. I’m never a priority for anyone, just an option.

But to Cain, I am important.The most important person in the world.

His brows flicker, jaw tightening more with each second I don’t respond, but his eyes are soft, so gentle I could lose myself in their mossy green depths.

Maybe this thing we have, no, thisrelationshipis fucked up. So what if it is?

Maybe he’s a depraved killer. So what if he is?

Cain is also a caring and loving man. He protects me, feeds me, clothes me, and gives me a better home than I ever had.

He saved my life.

I remember the photograph of us on the table in the police station. Even when he kidnapped me, he cared in his own, twisted way. He could’ve thrown me over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. But in the picture he carried me like a lover, like I’m something precious and rare.

And in this moment, as he embraces me, Cainisa normal person.

He’s a guy who wants nothing more than to protect the people he cares about and make them happy. A human with needs and dreams like every other on this planet. A man who longs to be seen and heard and held and loved exactly as he is, with all his sins, all his shadows and all his light.

My belly tingles as I find my voice. “I think I’d like that,” I whisper and smile. “A life with you.”

I can’t believe I just said that and meant it—and apparently, neither can Cain.

His eyes widen, pupils dilated. The cigarette drops from his fingers as he stares at me slack jawed. A wave of anxiety barrels through me, urging me to break the silence.

“Did I say something wrong?” I ask. “I’m sorry if—”

Cain grabs my face, his palms rough against my skin. His mouth smashes into mine, and I let out a giggle as our teeth clack softly. I wrap my arms around his neck, pressing myself closer. Closer.

It’s a little like our first kiss, laced with desperate need and the taste of smoke. Yet there is much more to it now than the night in the motel. Then, it was pure lust, but this is not just a demanding kiss. It’s slow, full of endless yearning and it sends flutters through my stomach.

“Fuck, I love you so much, Erica,” he whispers, and the floor gives out beneath my feet. I cling to him, dizzy and hot and weak.

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