His mouth tightened at the thought of Maggie working for Bradley Hayes. He’d always been a dickhead, and his wife, Rebecca Stringer, was a grade-A bitch. He didn’t want to think about the abuse Maggie sucked up in order to survive. She was right. He couldn’t relate to her day-to-day life.
His gaze wandered to Michael. Years ago, if someone got in his face, he’d told them off and moved on. End of story. There was no groveling, no sucking up in order to make some cash.
A sobering thought, that. He wasn’t sure he was a big enough person to deal with some of the crap she did.
“I’m off to grab Maggie. You guys watch the boys till I’m back?”
Mac saluted him. “Sure can do.”
“Not me, I’m outta here.” Jake stood and stretched out his legs. “I feel like I’ve been standing still for days. I’m gonna hit the gym, burn off some energy. What are you guys doing later? Thought I’d swing by the Coach House. Ran into Salvatore the other day, and he said Texas Willie’s in town.”
“Texas Willie?” Cain laughed. “Tell me how it’s possible that son of a bitch is still alive.”
Jake shook his head. “I have no clue. I’m sure his brain is fried, though it hasn’t affected his guitar playing any.” He shrugged. “According to Sal.”
“I’m in.” Mac threw a football toward the water. “Let’s play fetch, boys.” Michael and Tommy took off at a run, their legs and arms pumping hard.
Cain started toward his truck. “You guys mind if I bring Maggie?” He didn’t wait around to hear their answer. He didn’t care. Texas Willie, his buddies, and his girl. Sounded pretty damn good to him.
Fifteen minutes later he pulled up to Rebecca Hayes’s house and cut the engine. The driveway was a fair size for in town, with majestic oak trees lining either side, providing enough shade to keep the blacktop as dark as the day it had been paved. He supposed the leaves were a bitch in the fall, but that was a small sacrifice.
He took a moment to savor the place. The grandiose style had been refurbished to suit the period in which it was built, the late 1800s, and Cain would give credit where it was due. Bradley had done a great job. It was one of the oldest homes in Crystal Lake, and when he was a teen, it had been an abandoned wreck—a flophouse for drunken parties and the go-to place to bring your girlfriend for sex. Well, that and the Wyndham place.
He exited his truck and glanced around. There was some new money on the street. Most of the homes were in great shape, and he noticed a lot of minivans and SUVs in the driveways. The sound of children’s laughter echoed from someone’s backyard.
It was…nice.
He turned. A brightly colored ball rolled toward him with a little girl fast behind it. He scooped it up and threw it to her.
“Thanks.” With a quick smile she darted back to where she’d come from.
A male voice cut through the gentle quiet, and he turned back toward the house. Bradley was walking down the drive toward him, waving furiously, as if they were long-lost buddies. Cain gritted his teeth and nodded to him as he moved up the drive.
“Cain! What the hell? This is a surprise. Come in for a beer.” Hayes was dressed in swim trunks and nothing else. His ruddy complexion was in dire need of sunblock, and sweat beaded his forehead. He’d grown soft, his body reflective of a life of leisure. Bradley looked just like his father, down to the slightly thinning hair and accompanying paunch. “Rebecca didn’t say anything about you swinging by.”
“I’m good, thanks, and Rebecca didn’t know.” Cain nodded toward the house. “Is Maggie done?”
Surprise crossed the man’s face but was gone just as quick. His eyes narrowed slightly, and Cain didn’t care for the calculating look that crept into them. A slow grin spread across his face. “So it’s true.” He laughed and shook his head. “Didn’t doubt it for a minute.”
“Sorry?” Cain’s eyes narrowed. He knew what was coming even before the words left Bradley’s mouth.
“Dude, you’re banging the maid.”
Chapter 23
“What did you say?” He clenched his hands and squared his shoulders. Son of a bitch. His anger was instant, the burn hard.
“I…” Bradley laughed nervously. He’d overstepped and realized it too late.
“First off…” Cain took a step forward. He enjoyed the fear that he saw in Hayes’s eyes. He had at least four inches on the man, and while Bradley had gone soft, Cain was lean, in shape, and at the moment very, very pissed off. “Don’t ever call me dude. Got that?”
“Sorry.” Bradley shook his head as a silly grin crept over his features. “I didn’t mean…”
“And secondly,” he interrupted, “I’m not banging the maid. What are you? Fifteen? What I do in private and who I do it with is none of your goddamn business. Same goes for Maggie.”
“Look, I meant no offense.”
“Your kind never does.”