Why wasn’t I trying to get away from this beautiful, terrifying man?
“Stop me, Rain.” He nibbled on my bottom lip, and drew it into his mouth. I moaned as he scraped me between his lips. “I’m the true terror. I’m the beast everyone is too afraid to fight. Defeat me, and that shadow hanging over your life will be nothing at all.”
“Cairo...”
He slipped beneath my band and struck my clit dead center. Heat-seeking missile—target found.
Cairo pinched it between calloused fingers, setting my nerve endings alight in exquisite pain.
I gasped, and it was his invitation. Cairo plunged in, tangling my tongue with his, milking my moans with a farm boy’s expertise—which made me the wanton heifer. Grinding against his hand, lifting my leg for better access, drowning in his curious scent of spicy pink peppers, honey, and oakmoss.
Why did he smell so good? Why was everything about this man from the deep, husky voice to the soft, blond hairs on his chest designed to draw you in like a moth to flame? Why did I suddenly desire to be burned? I wanted it more at that moment than I wanted to be free of the very shadow clinging to my life, tormenting me with a fear I never knew I could feel.
Then he was gone.
Hands, lips, body, Cairo ripped away and I stumbled, dropping flat on the floor.
“My mistake.” Cairo wiped his glistening mouth with the back of his hand. “I thought you were different from the other sheep out there. Still refusing to be broken. I would’ve had so much fun doing what the other monster in your life couldn’t. Oh well.”
What just happened? What was he saying?
Cairo stripped off his pants and boxers. My lower belly tightened at his hardness, pointed straight at me in defiance of his owner’s supposed lack of interest.
“I need a shower. See yourself out.” With that, he turned his back on me and made for the bathroom.
He was angry with me. I saw it in the hard line of his shoulders. I couldn’t name why that bothered me—why it made me lash out again.
“Want to know who’s the shadow hanging over my life? Who’s made me so helpless and afraid that your weak-ass attempt to be a bad boy doesn’t even register?”
Cairo halted.
“Ask your daddy.”
I ran out of the room, slamming the door to knock the picture frames off the wall, if there were any.
No one paid me any mind running downstairs and escaping outside. I didn’t stop till I was across campus, free of the noise, the crowd, and Cairo.
I slowed, chest heaving, and continued to my new home at a reasonable pace.
The girls hadn’t waited for me after being kicked out. A good thing. One of them might’ve offered to take me home. I wasn’t up for explaining why I didn’t have one to go to.
Thankfully, the motel was a short walk from campus that still afforded me the scenic sights of Bedlam.
Old Bedlam, to be exact. Where hundreds of years ago, they built this big, towering university that grew in size and prestige while our little town didn’t. I assumed our blood-soaked history had something to do with that.
We were once called Crystal Canyon. Then the revolution. Riots raged in the streets, buildings burned, and people were ripped from their beds and slaughtered in the town square for a cheering, howling audience.
The very square I passed through, trailing my hand along the fountain’s basin, and soaking in the peaceful babbling water.
A peace that our town didn’t know for thirty days and thirty nights. The revolutionaries rooted out everyone who stood against them, including the militias and government forces that marched against them, fighting to return order.
They fought so savagely to repel them, relying on the stockpile of weapons in the gun factory that later became the distillery. Soon, the militias were wiped out, and the army itself was forced to retreat. They went back home and the nation’s papers reported Crystal Canyon had fallen to bedlam. With that, we were given our name.
“That’s the blood that runs through your veins, my Sun and Rain.”
I smiled at my wavering reflection as Gran’s voice calmed my mind.
“You came from the strongest of people. The fiercest. People who would give up their lives before surrendering their freedom.”
I raised my chin like she used to do. I felt her kiss on the tip of my nose.
“Never forget who you are, girls. Fighters.”
It’s funny. The only two people to call me Rain were Gran and Cairo. It was fitting they’d be connected in this way since both changed my life. Gran raised me to be anyone I wanted to be, and Cairo sealed in stone who that person would be.
I returned to the motel, waving to the night manager, Daisy, on the way down the hall.
My room was modest. A simple twin bed, small television, wobbly TV stand, matching dresser, and bathroom that sprayed water in either hot or cold. The place was freshly vacuumed and bed made when I stepped inside. That’s as far as the cleaning went around here. A thought tested and proven by the fact it had been weeks, and my little collage on the back side of the closet doors still hung undisturbed.