The man before me has changed from the one I knew all those years ago. I can tell he is used to getting what he wants, and he may be the boss around here, but there is no damn way I will let him stake a claim on me after what he did. He threw away his rights the day he decided to fuck that whore. I feel like spitting in his face and then tearing his damn head off.
“I don’t want to be married to you anymore. I just want to be free. I’m not yours; I never was. You proved it, you bastard, on our wedding night, of all days. So, no, you egotistical son of a bitch. I belong to myself. Now step the hell back away from me and sign those papers. Or don’t. Either way, I will get my divorce from you.”
The corners of his mouth turn up in a smug grin.
“Did Bowie let you in the gate the minute you told him who you were?” he asks, completely ignoring my previous statement. The question throws me off guard.
“What the hell kind of question is that? Of course he did. He said he knew who I was. And by the looks of it when I walked in here, everyone does.”
I pull my brows together, trying to get some clarity as to why he’s asking.
“There is so much shit you have no motherfucking idea about. It’s a damn good thing you’ve been in Canada all these years. Better yet, you were smart enough to change your name, although when I finally found out where you were it killed me not to come after you and bring you back were you belong.”
He almost sounds hurt, even regretful. I’m not buying his bullshit. An unsettling feeling begins to well up inside of me. He found me, and he never came for me?
“Y-you knew where I was?”
“Fuck, yes, I knew where you were. I know every fucking thing about you. I know how many men you have fucked. I know where you went to school. I even know where you buy all those lacy, sexy as hell bras you have a fetish for. And one more thing, I sure as fuck know you aren’t engaged. You’re my goddamn wife, so yes, I know every motherfucking thing there is to know. And to answer your other question, they all know I’m married. A few of them even know what you look like.”
His body pushes into mine, his mouth lingering at the base of my ear. Oh, dear lord. He is hard. I’m talking steel hard, and way the hell bigger than I remember him being. The distraction nearly causes me to miss his next words.
“They were all told if you ever came here to let you in. And to never let you out.”
Chapter Three
Calla
“What?”
I am transfixed by horror. Cain is out of his damned mind if he thinks I am staying here in his den of illegal activity. I writhe free of his firm hold and slap him across the face, the sound echoing loudly in the room. He flinches slightly, backing away and giving me enough room to breathe. My chest heaves up and down with uneven breaths.
“You can’t keep me here against my will, Cain. What the hell is wrong with you? Good God, have you been doing the drugs you sell? Because you are fucked in the head if you think I’m staying here with you while all this shit happens right in front of me. Besides, my dad will come looking for me soon. I’m done talking to you. I’m leaving.”
He grabs my arm, bends, and hoists me into the air, his other hand planted firmly on my ass as he throws me over his shoulder.
“Put me down!” I shriek, kicking and doing my best to inflict damage with my stilettos while dangling upside down.
“Shut your mouth, Calla.”
He’s too strong for me. I still try and put up a fight as he retreats across the floor. His strides are quick as he takes us outside, the gravel crunching underneath his black boots.
“Cain, don’t do this. You have no right!”
I see the legs of several men and hear them calling out to him about getting some. He is getting nothing from me but a kick in his damn nuts when he puts me down. I’m getting tossed around like a rag doll.
“Help me, you fucking assholes!” I scream.
Cain chuckles.
“No one is going to help you. Now shut the hell up, or I will tape your mouth shut and tie you to my fucking bed until you do as you’re goddamn told.”
Before I can retort, he abruptly stops at the sound of a shrill voice behind us.
“Cain, what the hell are you doing?”