Cain's Darkness(9)

He was proud that Fallina was living her life healthy, happy. She was a schoolteacher, helping others and giving them her support. She was a good girl, Violet, too, and this piece of shit waste of space had taken that happiness from them. He closed his eyes and breathed out, knowing that this prick hadn’t gotten far enough with Fallina to take her innocence—thank fuck. But he had taken Violet’s innocence, ripped it from her young body like it was his in the first place. Violet may not be his by blood, but he’d watched her grow, knew her home life had been shitty, and he had told her years ago he’d never let anyone hurt her. He’d failed in that respect, and he’d make it up to her. What she didn’t know, and what he was fighting with every damn day of his life, was the fact he wanted Violet as his own. He wanted her like he shouldn’t, in a way that was wrong and immoral in his eyes. She had been there for him all those years ago when he had been locked up, telling him where this bastard was even though he hadn’t wanted her to get involved. She was fierce and strong, despite what this asshole had done to her.

He slowly opened his eyes, felt rage and murder fill his head and body, and curled his hands into tight fists at his sides. Yeah, this motherfucker would pay with blood and his screams of pain. Cain was getting his vengeance now for the two women he cared about more than himself.

The man was already beaten and bloody, begging for his life, but those pleas fell on deaf ears. They were in the garage behind the clubhouse, and had been for the last few hours. Cain was unstoppable, and wouldn’t lighten up until the fucker was not breathing any longer. Carl, the man that had hurt everything he held dear, had his arms above his head, and a piece of rope was secured around his wrists and hung suspended from one of the beams above. He passed out, but Cain would make sure that he didn’t stay that way for long. He walked over to grab a bucket of ice water Kink had brought him, moved toward Carl, and tossed the frigid water on the hanging man. The rapist sputtered and came back to consciousness, and Cain grinned. He took a step back, and took off his once white t-shirt, which was now blood splattered from the beating he had given Carl.

Cain grabbed a pair of brass knuckles from the workbench, slipped them on, and moved back to Carl.

“Please, stop. I was drunk,” the man sputtered out. Blood dripped out of his nose and mouth, and fell onto his chest and the ground.

Cain stared at him for a second, thought about that day nine years ago, and didn’t give two shits if the fucker had been drunk. He swung out without answering, and connected the brass knuckles with the man’s face. Carl howled out in pain, struggled on his bonds, and that had Cain grinning and feeling pleasure course through his veins. Carl started to slowly still. Blood was a continuous flow from him, and a small pool was now on the floor beneath him. Cain took a step away from the puddle forming.

“My daughter kept saying stop, didn’t she? And if I hadn’t come when I did you would have damaged her even more than you already did.” Cain said in a deadly calm voice. “But you didn’t stop for Vi—” Cain stopped talking right away, and knew that he couldn’t bring Violet into this. The club knew about what had happened, had protected his girls while he was away, but he wasn’t going to bring her name into this for this fucker to hear. What the club didn’t know was that this prick had raped Violet before he had tried to go after his Fallina.

Malice moved up beside Cain, and he glanced over at the other member when Malice handed him a bottle of whiskey. Malice moved back toward Kink, who leaned against the other side of the building. Carl was semi-conscious now, making these gurgled, wet sounds.

“The guy’s about to take a dive, brother,” Lucien said.

Cain looked at the president of their club. Lucien took a hit from his cigarette, and then dropped it on the floor to snub it out.

“If you don’t finish him off he’ll die from blood loss or shock, and you’ll miss giving him that final blow.”

Cain nodded, knowing that was the truth, and his death wouldn’t be without Cain landing the final blow. He took another drink from the bottle of liquor while he stared at the man he was about to end, and then set the bottle on the floor.

“You’re right. I better end this now before this fucker passes out again and can’t feel how I make the last seconds of his life even more painful.” Cain went over to the workbench again, stared at the rusty equipment, and then grabbed a nine-inch serrated hunting knife. He walked over to the man, who was struggling to breathe now. He grabbed Carl’s chin, turned his swollen and beaten face up so he was forced to look at Cain, and bared his teeth.