Page 64 of Unhinged Cain

“Don’t do that, don’t pretend to like it. I can clearly see all you do is an act, and this is no different.” He turned the pad around to show me my work, which might have been the best piece I’d ever created.

“I’m not lying. I only lie when needed. I do not need to lie to you about your art. Your work should be on walls in homes or museums,” he said, looking down at his image again.

I’d never told anyone other than my mother that painting was what I wanted to do, so he was either doing that thing where he could look inside my mind, or he meant it. My chest constricted, and a warm fuzzy sensation traveled throughout my body. How did he always do that? How did he always say just the right thing?

“Why did you paint my expression like this,” he asked as he stepped close.

“What does it matter?” Crossing my arms, I looked away from him and could feel the tears pricking the back of my eyes.

There was no logical reason to want to cry. Was I crying over the life I’d never get back, the one I’d wished I’d lived, or the fact that any feeling I thought he had for me was nothing more than a grand act? Was I crying for all the people that had been in this room before me or those that were yet to come? Or was I crying because, deep down, I had feelings that I shouldn’t?

“It matters to me.” Cain stopped in front of me.

Sighing, I looked into his eyes. “I painted it because that’s how I see you. A man that has demons he wrestles, and the strain that it causes.”

“I don’t understand.” He tapped the image. “I don’t have any demons.”

“Cain, look at this spot. It’s where depression comes to die. You have a desire and need to kill, but I don’t think you like everything that you are. If you did, you wouldn’t have kept me here this long. I’d already be sightless on that slab, just like the countless others you’ve brought here before me.”

I was fuming. I shouldn’t be surprised that he didn’t understand. How did you understand sadness or loneliness when emotions were always on the periphery of your vision?

“You think I’m not happy?”

“I think you’re looking for something more than what you are. Maybe you were happy or as close to happy as you get, but now you’ve changed, and part of you has shifted.”

The door banged open, and I screamed and jumped at the sudden gunshot-like noise.

“Hello, brother,” Cain said, not bothering to look to see who it was.

I didn’t think it was possible to be terrified of someone more than Cain, but that wasn’t true. There was something severely unstable about Abel. You could tell the difference between them instantly. There was no guessing for me. He looked like a bird on crack as he waltzed in, his shirt hanging open and flapping as he moved into the space.

“Ye ha! I got ourselves a pair of southern girls to have a root ‘en toot ‘en bloody good time with,” Abel said as he swung his arm over his head like a lasso and thrust his hips.

My eyes went back and forth between Cain and Abel, and I wondered why the fuck anyone would tempt the fates by calling their kids those names was beyond me, but I was sure that wherever their parents were, they were kicking themselves in the ass or rolling around in their graves

“I’m busy here, brother,” Cain said, his eyes never leaving my face.

“Aw, come on, man! It’s been days since you played with me.” Abel stopped, his face scrunching up in thought. “I don’t mean play with me as in playing with my cock. I mean with other people…oh fuck it, you know what I mean. You have to come and see. They are a pair of the biggest titty girls I’ve ever seen.” He paused and looked off into space like he was thinking exactly about what he wanted to do, making me swallow hard.

As Cain looked over his shoulder at his brother, a pang of jealousy stabbed me in the chest. I didn’t want this man, and yet I did. I wanted him all for myself. The thought of him fucking someone else had my jaw clenching shut and my hands balling into fists as an insane possessiveness rose inside me. The other part of my brain screamed that they were planning on killing two girls, and it wasn’t normal to feel like this. But once more, there was no rationalizing with the emotions even though my brain attempted to war against them.

“I’m talkin’ watermelons, man. There are so many things I want to do to them. Oh, and I bought us a new toy to try out. You have to come. I picked them out specifically with you in mind.”

“Oh yeah, and why is that?” Cain took a small step away from me. My body shook as I watched them converse as if they were talking about a dinner menu.

“One of them has two different colored eyes,” Abel said as if he’d just found a winning lottery ticket. “You can’t resist that. I know you can’t.”

“I’m going to assume there is nothing I can say to change your mind and not do this?”

Cain turned to look at me, but it was Abel that spoke up.

“Whoa! What the fuck? Who the hell do you think you are, the fun police?” Abel laughed and wrapped his arm around Cain’s shoulders, but I wanted to snarl and snap at Abel. “My brother and I have a special bond. You better not be trying to come between that,” he said, and his eyes darkened as they looked me up and down.

“Leave her alone, Abel. I’ll come see what you got,” Cain said.

All I could picture was his dick in some other girl, and the anger I felt flaring inside me was white-hot. The sketch pad dropped to the ground with a slapping noise, and my eyes stared at the painting I’d created. Cain’s feet marched away, and I bit my lip to keep from calling him back. If there were an award for the most fucked up emotions, I would’ve taken first place.

Abel’s continuous talking could still be heard when he stepped out into whatever lay beyond the door. Cain stood holding the door, and our eyes locked, but just like that, he turned and left. My body shook with rage and sadness and... I didn’t know what else. How could I care more about him leaving me here to fuck someone else over the fact that more people were going to die?