The devil

Chapter 9 Cain

Past…

“Sorry, man. I didn’t want to be the one to tell you, but someone had to,” my friend and sometimes rival in debate tells me. “I’d want to know if it were me.”

I nod slowly, afraid to do more than that for fear it will only make the situation worse.

It’s one thing to find out your girlfriend of a year and a half is cheating on you with the biggest asshole in school. It’s another to have a mental breakdown in front of the entire student body over it.

Judging by the way everyone in the cafeteria is currently eyeballing me…I’m the last to know. Awesome.

I slap Corey’s shoulder. “Thanks, man. Appreciate the heads up.”

I keep my expression neutral as I wade through the cafeteria.

I’m not sure whether to confront her now or later. Later, I decide. Not only do I not know where she is, but I have no desire to catch her in the act.

“Wait,” Corey yells and I stop walking.

“They’re in the shed near the shop room,” he informs me, louder than he needs to.

Make that now.

I’m sure a small part of him is enjoying this. He asked Katrina Owens—the cheater—to go to homecoming at the start of our junior year, but she turned him down and went with me instead.

We’ve been together ever since.

Until she started fucking Damien King behind my back.

It would almost be comical if it wasn’t happening to me.

The two of us couldn’t be more different from one another. So different I don’t know much about him and I’m sure he can say the same about me.

What I do know about him isn’t good, though. He doesn’t run with a bad crowd…he is the bad crowd. His mother isn’t in the picture—not sure why—but he lives with his father who’s loaded. Not that being well off is an anomaly in this town, but his father is a callous businessman and most people in Black Hallows hate him. With good reason.

For instance—a few years back, our town was hit with a bad storm and a beloved ice cream shop was severely damaged. The owner, Mr. Ma

A week later, Damien’s father had it bulldozed to the ground and turned it into a gym.

To this day the man has never stepped foot inside of it. He just did it to piss everyone off.

And the apple doesn’t fall far because most can say the same about Damien.

He pisses a lot of people off.

Like me. Right now.

Because I’m watching him nail my girlfriend against a wall in a shed.

I should probably stop them, but for some reason, all I can think about is how Katrina and I lost our virginities to each other ten months ago.

It would have been sooner if it were up to me, but Katrina said she wanted to wait. She claimed she was a good girl and wanted to make sure I was serious about her before we took it to the next level.

She doesn’t look like such a good girl right now though.

Her legs are wrapped around his waist. Her fake nails are digging into his back. And brazen moans are spewing from her whore mouth while he fucks her so hard the shed vibrates.

No, she’s not a good girl. Or rather…she was never this much of a good girl for me.

“Oh my God,” Katrina squeals when she notices me.

Leaning against an oversized tool chest, I give her a tight smile.  “Having fun?”

“Cain, I’m so—” She slaps Damien’s shoulder. “Stop. My boyfriend’s here.”

“Hold on,” Damien barks, his thrusts picking up speed. “You can have her back in a minute, bro. Just need to bust this nut first.”

I stuff my hands in my pockets. “It’s cool, bro. Take your time.”

Take your time busting a nut inside my girlfriend while I stand here.

Katrina’s eyes fill with tears. “I’m so…” Her voice trails off and her breathing accelerates.

I assume it’s because she’s so overcome with emotion and remorse for what she did.

That is until her head lolls back and she moans loud enough to wake the dead. “Oh, God. Don’t stop.”

Tilting my head to the side, I look down at where their bodies are joined…where Damien’s hand is strumming her cunt like a banjo.

Evidently, fucking my girlfriend in front of me isn’t good enough for him. He needs to pour salt in the wound by making sure I witness him getting her off in front of me too.

I grind my molars. The asshole is intentionally provoking me.

And it’s working because my composure’s akin to a rubber band about to snap.

Never let them see you sweat. My father’s words of wisdom echo through the walls of my skull. The key to surviving any scandal is to act like there isn’t one.

And let’s not forget his latest. Katrina seems a little slutty, son. Your future wife should be your accessory, not everyone else’s.

Turns out my father was right. I’m sure he’ll love hearing me admit it when I go home.  

“Finished yet?” I bite out through clenched teeth.

Thrust. “Just.” Thrust. “One.” Thrust. “Fuck. There we go.” He shudders. “Yeah, baby, squeeze your snatch around me and milk it.”

I want to kill him.

I watch in disgust as they disassemble themselves and put their clothes back on. Well, Katrina does.

The fucker barely puts his dick away before he’s reaching for his cigarettes.

How any chick in their right mind would choose him over me is anyone’s guess. Despite his bank account having more money than my own will ever see, he looks like trash. I’m not being facetious either. The dude actually looks like he smells bad. Then again, everything smells bad currently since I’m inhaling the musky scent of their post-coital bliss.  

Narrowing my eyes, I continue my appraisal. His dark hair is cropped close, but thanks to the view I was afforded during the show, I know there are a few designs shaved into the back of his scalp.

As if that’s not weird enough, smack center in the middle of his neck is a huge skull tattoo with flames expanding across his throat. His arms are also covered in a few skulls, along with a few profound statements like ‘Trust No One.’

His body might be a little better than mine, I suppose. If you’re into that sort of thing. We’re both over six feet, but I’m lean and toned thanks to my years of ru

I definitely have him beat in the facial area, though. Unlike him, I’m well-groomed and clean-cut. Unfortunately, the constant stubble on his face does little to dull his intense features. Downright creepy features if I’m being honest. Especially those icy blue eyes of his that chicks fawn over. They don’t even look real. Fucker probably wears contacts.

Those unusual eyes aren’t his most disturbing feature, though. It’s what goes on behind them. The look he gives you. It’s downright menacing. Almost like Satan himself is using him as a host to steal your soul.

Hell, maybe Katrina’s not a two-timing tramp after all and this is the devil’s work.

Or maybe, I need to stop procrastinating and kick her ass to the curb already.

Goddammit, this sucks. Despite my father’s reservations, Katrina fit into my life perfectly. She knew my aspirations, knew what was expected of her, and cheating whore aside, would have been a good wife.