Page 101 of Cain
He’s lying on his back on my bed, still covered with blood, smoking quietly, his dark green eyes nailed to the ceiling.
I’m lying right on top of him, studying every detail of his face, trying to comprehend how a man so devastatingly handsome, so seemingly complete, can carry enough darkness inside to snuff out someone else’s existence without a second thought.
How much pain must a person go through to become this cold, this destructive, this lethal?
“You’re too quiet,” I say.
“I like it. This calmness. It’s too peaceful,” he mumbles, the cigarette dangling from his lips. I hum softly. He’s right. This silence that surrounds us isn’t awkward at all. “You never cease to surprise me, little rose.”
“Why?”
He takes the smoke between his fingers, his eyes still fixed on the ceiling. “You’ve started adapting to this new reality faster than I thought.”
I let out a bitter scoff. “Not that I had anywhere else to go.”
“You do. A bright future awaits you outside these walls.”
He doesn’t believe these words, but he says them anyway. Maybe I don’t believe them either. And that’s my greatest sin.
“It’s not the life that I want.”
He inhales the cigarette slowly. “What you want is love, and I can’t give that to you. All I carry inside me is darkness.”
“I doubt that.”
“Then you’re a fool, baby. I’m not capable of loving anyone.” He inhales the cigarette. “Love dies. Obsession survives. That’s my gift to you. With me, you will never be alone or unwanted.”
I exhale slowly through my nose. I don’t have anything to answer. Deep down, I know he’s right. Although I believe in love, I understand that obsession can be a stronger emotion.
“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.”
“I would kill him anyway. It’s just sad you had to go through this before I did.”
I rest my chin on my hands and stare at him. “But then the monster of the story saved the princess.”
He chuckles lowly, revealing his gorgeous smile, but still doesn’t look at me. “Monsters don’t save princesses. They keep them for themselves.”
“That’s right, too,” I chuckle. My gaze darts around the sheets and the floor. Bruce’s blood has dried almost on every surface. “I need to change the sheets and clean up this mess.”
“I’ll have Eleanor do it.”
“What will you say about the blood?”
“She won’t ask.”
I guess she has done this many times in the past.
Slowly, he pushes me back and stands up. “Get some sleep.”
“I’m not tired.”
He holds my face carefully, almost tenderly, and presses his lips on my forehead, planting a soft kiss. “Good night, Katerina.”
He turns his back and walks away without waiting for my answer.
Watch the ceiling.
Wander around my room.
