Chapter Twenty-Five The Moon and the Stars
Cain and I sit outside in silence for a few minutes. Not much time at all, but it feels stolen and delicious.
Wilson glares at Cain, wary.
You don’t need a guy around, he reminds me. Have you forgotten about Dizzy? He hurt you. I can’t allow that to happen again.
I glance over at Cain, expecting to see Dizzy’s face, but he looks nothing like him. The two are as different as the moon and stars. One boy twinkles and shines with unrivaled energy. The other is solid in his approach; always there, under clear skies and overcast.
I’m not sure how I know these things about Cain. Call it a hunch.
“You hit that girl?” he asks, getting comfortable in his chair.
I turn my face away. “Yeah, I did.”
He nods, but doesn’t say anything else on the subject. His eyes return to my body and we meet each other’s gaze. “Did one of the girls talk you into changing how you look?”
I wrap an arm around myself. “No one talks me into anything.”
Cain laughs.
“What?”
He shrugs. “You’re different, that’s all.”
“How so?”
“Most of the girls here are rotten inside. It’s not their fault. It’s just they let their past turn them. But you took a different approach. You built a wall on the outside to keep the inside intact.”
“Don’t pretend you know me.”
Cain rubs his jaw. “I don’t know you, Domino. I doubt many people do.”
“What about you?” I say, turning things around. “Why do you work here?”
Shadows cross his face, and he stands. “I don’t know what that person told you on the phone, but it wasn’t good.” He peers at me from over his shoulder. “You okay?”
“You didn’t answer my question; why should I answer yours?”
Cain smiles and walks a couple of steps away. He crosses his arms, mimicking me, and stares out at the guesthouses. It’s a long time before either of us speaks again. Finally, I ask him a bold question, maybe for shock value, maybe because I’m invincible with the moon standing so close.
“Do you think there’s something different for you after this life is over?” I ask.
He steals a look in my direction. “Something easier, you mean?”
“Yeah.”
“Like heaven?”
“Sure.”
Cain shakes his head and releases a long breath. “Not for me, little lion.”
Then he’s gone, striding back toward the house, leaving me alone on my plastic chair, knees pulled tight against my chest.