Page 85 of Cain

“We, on the other hand, do have one small one. We will check it to see if we caught the bastard,” Jill said.

“We didn’t go in,” Janet added. “We didn’t want to intrude.”

“What if someone is still in there?” I asked, heart racing.

“Then he’d have gotten fifty-thousand volts right to the back on his way out the door,” Janet said, waving her taser.

“I doubt anyone is still here. But I’ll check,” Cain said.

“Need this?” Jill asked, holding out her bat.

“No, thanks,” he said, reaching under his shirt to pull a gun out of his waistband.

A gun.

When had he grabbed that?

From the car, after we heard about the break-in? Or had he had it on him the whole trip?

And why did I get this little jolt of desire seeing him holding it?

Before I could even begin to unpack that, he was making his way inside the room. Not, I was pretty sure, like an outlaw biker might enter a room. But more like an experienced law enforcement officer might. His back stayed near the wall as he moved through the space, both hands holding the gun, pushing open doors, doing a scan, and moving on.

There wasn’t much to check, though, so he was back in just a couple seconds, tucking the gun away and shaking his head at me. As I stood there trying to reason with my body that this was not the time to be getting all hot and bothered.

To be fair to my poor, frustrated body, though, this had been simmering all day.

Because I’d woken up early and seen Cain walking stark-naked into the bedroom to grab clothes after his shower.

I’d seen… everything.

And there’d been a lot to see.

“Do you think they stole anything?” Janet asked.

“What was there even to steal?” I asked. “I don’t have anything worth stealing. I had my phone on me. All that was left was… clothes. And cheap food in the freezer.”

They shot me an understanding look.

“I’m just worried that he wasn’t here for your stuff.”

“You think they wanted to hurt me?” I asked, heartbeat kicking into gear.

“It has to have happened between two in the morning and sunrise.”

“Why?” Cain asked.

“We sat out here and had a joint until two, when we turned in. And the new guy next to Georgia’s room is up with the sun to go for a run. He would have heard someone making that mess.”

It was a mess, too.

Everything I owned—as little as it was—was strewn everywhere. The mattresses were off the beds, the bedding torn off and tossed about. The drawers were opened and gone through. Even the kitchen cabinets were rummaged inside of. I imagined my bathroom was a wreck.

“Do you want help cleaning up?” Jill asked.

“Yeah, let us do it. You still look pretty pale.”

“No! No. You guys need to record today. Cain and I have this.”