Fear ratcheted down my spine as I realized I’d finally managed it. I’d said something that had made him cross that line. I wanted to cry as I got out of the truck and closed the door as quietly as I could. No way I wanted Lucy to witness this. I went to the back of the truck where Cain was waiting for me and I could see that he was pissed. He looked a lot like he had that first day when Lucy and I had gone after him in the snow.
I knew that if I apologized, I might have a chance of making this all go away. It hadn’t always worked with Eric, but Cain seemed more in control of his emotions. If I was sincere enough…
But I shook my head. No, I wasn’t going back to that part of my life. Let the asshole hit me…it would be proof that everything he’d said was a lie. That the way he’d held me in that shower had been a lie.
Just let it out, Ethan…I’ve got you.
“Lie,” I whispered under my breath so he wouldn’t hear.
I forced myself to look at him and settled my eyes on the small bruise on his jaw. I hadn’t realized it at the time, but Lucy had told me later that I’d struck Cain when he’d been trying to wake me up from my nightmare. I’d been stunned to learn that not only had I managed to leave a mark on him, but that he hadn’t hit me back. The guilt I’d felt at actually even inflicting the smallest amount of pain on him had consumed me, but when I’d tried to apologize to him the next day when he’d helped me to the bathroom, he’d brushed off my words like they were nothing…like the bruise was nothing.
Though I supposed to a man like him, it was nothing.
Even now, he seemed to tower over me and I couldn’t stop from staring at his hands. Maybe if I saw them close into fists, I’d somehow be able to prepare myself for the blow…
“Stop that,” Cain said harshly. I forced my eyes up to his and saw the glittering anger there. I dropped my eyes again and hunched in on myself. I knew it was a self-defense mechanism that I’d learned early on – making myself as small a target as I possibly could – and I hated that I relied on it even now after promising myself I didn’t care what he did to me, but old habits died hard.
I sensed rather than saw Cain moving towards me and I reflexively backed up until my back hit the back of the truck. I turned my head to the side but didn’t cover it with my hands like I wanted since that would only make things worse. Submissive was one thing, cowardly was another.
Eric hated cowards.
“Don’t make me him,” Cain said roughly as his body crowded mine. The heat coming off him was intense and even as I waited for him to grab me, I felt part of my body wanting to seek out more of that warmth.
It was sick.
I was sick.
“Ethan,” Cain said softly and then his fingers were at my chin…not to grab it, but to tip it up. “I’m not him,” he whispered.
I nodded, though it was more of an instinctive thing than anything else. When Eric got all quiet and reflective, I found that agreeing with him typically worked better than silence. “I know you’re not.”
It wasn’t until I felt Cain’s thumb stroke over my jawline that I forced myself to look at him. As soon as I met his gaze he said, “Ethan, I’m not him.”
He held me there like that, refusing to let me look away. I wanted to repeat my own statement to assure him that I knew that, but the lie wouldn’t fall from my lips, so I only nodded.
I felt his warm breath skitter over me as a sigh escaped his lips.
He didn’t believe me.
I really was a bad liar.
I expected him to release me and step away, but I was surprised when his fingers drifted down to my throat. His thumb flicked back and forth over a spot near my pulse and then his entire palm flattened against the spot just above my T-shirt collar.
The T-shirt that had only stopped smelling like him the day before.
“Did I hurt you last night?” he asked me softly. His eyes weren’t on mine anymore. They were on my neck.
“No,” I murmured as I sensed the change in him.
It wasn’t a real lie…he’d hurt me for a handful of seconds, but compared to what I was used to, it had been the equivalent of having my hand gripped just a little too hard during an overeager handshake with someone.
His eyes lifted to mine again and then his finger was on the move, rubbing back and forth over my skin in an almost soothing manner. I briefly wondered if the man might be gay, but he threw off so many mixed signals that I really had no idea. I certainly wasn’t going to risk having my ass handed to me by testing to see if he was or wasn’t, no matter what kind of havoc his touch was wreaking on my senses.