Page 17 of Unhinged Cain

A squeal was on the tip of my tongue, but I managed to hold it back. This would be the first time I’d have something that was completely mine, and the excitement was bubbling in my chest. “Thank you, Jorge. I promise you won’t regret this.”

“We’ll see about that, Darlin’. Toodles.”

I gulped down the rest of the coffee and knew I was going to be up all night between the high-powered octane I’d just drank and my excitement, but I didn’t care. If this meant a step toward gaining a bit of real independence from my mom, it was all worth it.

It was times like this I really missed Dad. He would’ve been happy for me and helped me celebrate. I picked up my phone to call him and stopped as I figured out the time zone difference to London. It was like one in the morning there, and I put my phone back in my jacket pocket. It had been hard when he stopped calling every day, but it became even harder when he remarried and moved halfway around the world. Dad always said he loved me the same and that nothing had changed, but I felt the strain between us. He looked at me and saw another man’s child. I was the product of his wife stepping out on him and the constant reminder of her infidelity.

I waved to Jorge as I left and marched down the street with my head held high. Was this a step back from becoming an FBI agent? Maybe, but it wasn’t like I’d dropped out. Besides, I wanted to do something I was passionate about and not forced to do. The question was, what was going to make me happy?

CAIN

Abel’s house was on the other side of the property from the original farmhouse that I occupied. Although I could just make out his house through the trees and walk the path we created between the two homes, I chose to drive around and found Abel in the basement of his play area. He called it his ‘games room,’ which I admit was amusing. The muffled sound of screams and thumping music reached my ears as I placed my hand on the heavy basement door.

Having two houses was a much better fit for us. This way, we weren’t tripping over each other, and my annoyance with his slobbish habits and irregular schedule didn’t start fights. Unlocking the door, I winced as the song “Blame It On The Rain” blared so loudly that my eardrums wept and wanted to bleed.

I was going to need a stiff drink to deal with that shit. Closing the door again, I went to the kitchen to get a drink. I preferred a strong drink when I helped work over Abel’s trophies but liked to remain stone-cold sober for my own.

“Disgusting,” I mumbled as I grabbed a garbage bag, swiped all the empty take-out containers into the black plastic, and then tied it shut.

Staring at the mountain of dirty dishes, I had to stop myself from cleaning them and knew that I was going to be seeing that mess in my nightmares. Well, if I had nightmares, I would see that gross pile. In fact, it would probably be the star.

I grabbed the bottle of whiskey and two glasses before returning to the basement door. The door relocked when it closed behind me, so I made my way down. The noisy creaking stairs and the clunk of my boots would’ve announced my presence, except you couldn’t hear anything over the music. Reaching the bottom, I took in the scene and saw that Abel hadn’t wasted any time and was well underway in breaking the two girls he’d nabbed.

Abel spotted me standing at the bottom of the stairs and jogged over to greet me like the perfect host. He wrapped an arm around my shoulders and maneuvered me toward his nightly fun. He pulled a remote out of somewhere and turned the music down to a reasonable level.

“Brother, I’m so happy you made it. Look what I got for us,” he said like I hadn’t seen him less than an hour ago.

My eyes scanned over the set of twin girls that were tied up with thick leather cuffs. As was Abel’s way, he liked to start off having his toys face one another, letting them see what they would lose if they followed through or the pain they would feel when they didn’t. Their wide, unblinking stares made me feel warm inside.

“What’s on the menu tonight,” I asked as I poured my brother a glass and handed it over.

“I’m so glad you asked,” he said, taking the glass.

I proceeded to take up my usual perch in the corner to watch the show as Abel went to grab something. He came back and held up the power drill. The end had been converted into the biggest dildo I had ever seen. It would certainly make a horse blush, but the green drywall screws attached to it made me grin.

“You really are creative, brother,” I said, and he smiled wide at the compliment.

I’d learned from the time we started playing like this together that Abel was much easier to keep focused and contained when he felt I was impressed. I had no desire to earn my brother’s praise, but he seemed to thrive off the few words I offered him.

Abel reminded me of one of dad’s old high-spirited horses that liked to take off while riding the animal. I could picture Abel with a set of reins and a bit in his mouth but not behaving unless there was the promise of praise and a sweet apple at the end of the ride. I guess most of the time—I was his reins. If I weren’t, he’d be wild all the time. His impulse control was somewhere between zero and none, so I became his voice of reason. If I didn’t play that role, I would need to kill him, and I preferred not to do the latter. When it came to bonds that didn’t break, I knew ours would last through almost anything—but there was the odd exception to the rule. Like Abel doing things that would get us caught was high on that list.

“What do you think, brother? Is their bond as unbreakable as ours,” Abel asked. He circled the women, who looked to be in their late twenties.

“Please don’t do this.”

“Now, now, Jess,” Abel scolded. “Didn’t we already have a discussion about begging? Didn’t I already explain the rules of this game?”

The one named Jess nodded her head, tears a steady stream down her bloodied face. Abel turned his attention to me.

“Brother, I’m sorry I didn’t introduce you to our guests. This one is Jess, which is short for Jessica, but she prefers Jess.” Abel yanked on the woman’s golden hair, and she screamed as he twisted her head at an odd angle to show me her face. “And this is Jacqueline, but she prefers Jackie. You know, I guess that’s one thing we can thank our parents for. Can you imagine having to do this fucking stupid same-letter name thing with us?”

I gave him a nod. “So true.”

“What do you want from us,” Jackie asked, and my lip curled up as her eyes met mine.

“Why do people ask such stupid questions when they already know they’re going to die? I’ve yet to get an answer to this question. Can you enlighten me, Jackie?” Her lower lip trembled as her sky-blue eyes locked with mine, but she didn’t say anything. “No answer? I didn’t think so. No one can answer that question, but tell me, Jackie, why do you think we’re doing this?”

She shook her head back and forth, but the answer was there in her eyes. She knew. She knew what we were and why we did what we did. She simply didn’t want to say it out loud. Thinking that there is a monster under the bed and saying it aloud made the situation far more real.