Paradise Fought: Abel (40 page)

I reached my hand back for her and wound my fingers with hers.

“Your brother’s loss cost us,” my father added. I glowered back at him, as I wondered what he meant. He couldn’t have meant financially. My brother had made millions over the past years. He had to mean something more important: his reputation. I’d ruined my brother’s reputation as a winner, a champion.

“That’s all that was ever important to you, wasn’t it? Winning. Always winning.”

“Is there anything else more important?”

I was about to open my mouth. The word was on the tip of my tongue, when Elma squeezed my hand. She was more important. Her love was, too, but her gentle nudge was a reminder that there was no arguing with my father. While I didn’t want to ever back down from him again, this was one argument I would never win. He was a man that could never understand love as the most important thing in life. He’d given up the love of his life for winning. That desire to be a champion cost him everything.

I didn’t respond to my father’s question. There wasn’t an answer that would satisfy him.

“Well, I’m glad to see you can still keep your mouth shut.”

I did have something to say, though.

“Why was it like this?” I questioned, my tone softening. “Why couldn’t you love us both? Two sons, not just one?”

“I only had one true son,” my father replied, stepping toward me. “Callahans are fighters. We can trace that back to the beginning of time. We fight. You weren’t a fighter. You were weak, always weak. Always crying and whimpering.”

I shook my head.

“And what about now?”

“Now!” my father spit. “Now? You think that scam of a fight you and your brother pulled off makes you a fighter? I’m not blind, Abel. And I’m not stupid. There was no way you could have beat your brother. He let you win.”

My heart dropped. I figured we had fooled everyone, but if there was one person we couldn’t fool it was Atom Callahan. A man born and raised on fights, he had the knowledge of moves. I believed we’d pulled it off, but we hadn’t tricked our father. This only spelled more trouble for Cain, I worried.

“He always covers for you,” my father said in disgust.

“You have no faith in my ability.” It sounded like a question, but it was pure fact. He’d closed off all hope when I was a child. He’d never let me be a winner.

“You could never be a winner,” my father hissed, as he approached closer. “And what do you think you won? The girl?” My father’s eyes rolled up and down the length of Elma. I didn’t turn to look at her. The betta always keeps his eye on his opponent. I couldn’t risk removing mine from him.

“Don’t even look at her,” I growled.

“Or you’ll what?” my father tormented. I raised my fist. Elma screamed. My father didn’t even flinch.

“I knew you couldn’t do it. What kind of son raises his hand to his father?” Atom Callahan tsked at me.

“One that doesn’t have a man to call a father.” I wound back for the punch when my elbow was gripped.

Unbeknownst to me, Cain had entered the suite.

“Always intervening for him,” our father spit, shaking his head. His attention was focused on Cain, who lowered my arm.

“Abel, step back,” Cain directed, but I wouldn’t move. Not this time. If our father had something to say to me, if he had something he wanted to do to me, he would do it. To me. Cain would not be my protector. He would not be my keeper. I needed to fight this battle on my own. While I was a reminder of my mother, I was still raised by my father. He hadn’t faced her, but he would face me. I realized that just like her, he was banishing me from the garden of his paradise: Las Vegas, the adult playground.

I didn’t need to make a name here. I didn’t need to stake my claim to this land. I would build myself a new place. I had Highlands Gym for training. This fight was definitely not the last one I would fight, but I was done proving myself to my father. I would never be able to prove to him I was good enough. Champion fighter or not, this was about bravery. I had proven to myself that I could do this. I could be a warrior.

I continued to face off with my father, not allowing Cain to interfere.

“Just like old times. The older brother tries to protect the younger. Doesn’t it get old?” Our father addressed Cain. “Don’t you get tired of taking care of him?” Our father sighed.

“That’s enough, Dad,” Cain spoke as if he was bored. The torture would only continue if he tried to stop my father.

“For. Once. Just stay out of this, Cain. Let him fight his own battle.” The collective shock between us filled the room. Cain went rigid next to me.

“How do you want me to fight? You want me to raise my fist to you like you did to Cain?”

“Abel?” Cain warned.

“You want me to insult you with words, cut you down to nothing, like you did to me?” I growled.

My father narrowed his eyes.

“Or should I just ignore your existence like you’ve done to Evie?”

“Abel?” Cain hissed under his breath. Our father was turning red. His eyes widened. He was getting ready to explode. I didn’t see the hand rise, but I sensed it coming. Like the fighter I’d become, I learned to anticipate moves. I gripped my father’s hand in mine. Covering his large meaty palm with my thinner fingers, I shoved him back from me.

“I won’t ever let you raise a hand to me,” I threatened.

“You know I hardly did,” my father said. “I couldn’t do it. Her eyes looked back at me. It was easier to fight my mirror image. I saved it for Cain.”

I turned to look at Cain for forgiveness. Our father couldn’t be serious. He didn’t still try to beat Cain. Cain was larger than him. Cain could surely take him.

In my attention to Cain, my father got me. The explosion across my face radiated like pain long since forgotten. The punch connected in a way that my eye felt as if it would pop out of the socket. I raised my fist to retaliate, but Cain stepped in between us.

“Abel. Get out. Now,” Cain demanded. My surprise was uncontainable.
I couldn’t believe my brother was defending my father. I stared at him in disbelief. He shook his head infinitesimally. It was my signal to leave. Cain would handle it. He would always handle it.
I stepped back then I lunged forward. My fist connected and I saw white rage. I only got in one blow before I was hauled off my father and pushed to the door.

“Elma, get him out of here,” Cain demanded. The sound was garbled under the pulse of the blood in my ears. I was shoved into the hall with Elma close behind, then the door shut and locked. The sound echoed down the secluded hallway. I turned and stormed for the elevator. Hitting the button several times, before I decided I needed the stairs instead. I ignored Elma’s pleas. The heavy metal handle clicked open and I darted downward into the depths of the first tower of The Belfast.

I paced the suite. Creed let me in and then went in search of Abel. I didn’t know what to do. I felt trapped inside the glass bubble. The broad daylight did nothing to beautify Vegas. The city still sparkled and glittered in a dirty muted way under the heat of the desert sun. The dry arid background could be seen far off in the distance. Somewhere out there were mountains, and Abel and I needed to cross over them. The rich green of the valley was what we needed and it was on the other side.

I was wringing my hands, wearing a path in the rug. Images of Abel and I, from the night before, filtered through my mind. His tender touch as he was over me. His caressing massage as he was behind me. Then my brain flashed to the temper that erupted from within him in the presence of his father. The self-contained rage he must have suppressed the first time I saw him with his father had to have taken great strength. What was unleashed today was weakness; not that Abel wasn’t strong physically, but his father broke him. Abel reacted.

I didn’t understand all that I witnessed. It appeared I’d gotten a hint of Cain’s history; his father beat him in place of his other son. I couldn’t understand that type of violence. Yet the irony of them being fighters was not lost on me. To fight was for control. A battle of wills and power. For some it was courage that made them fight. For Abel and Cain, it was self-preservation. Their lives had been fated from the start.

As my thoughts melted together and flitted from one thing to another, the entrance to the suite opened. Without looking at me, Abel came for me. He gripped my hand and pulled me to his room. Once the door was closed, I was pressed against it and rough kisses attacked my neck. My hands came to his dark hair, brushing into it in hopes of calming him. His mouth was jagged as it worked down to my collarbone. He was pushing up my shirt only enough to get his hands on my jeans. He had them unbuttoned and was forcing them down as his mouth continued a crisscross over my skin.

“Abel, honey, slow down,” I pleaded, a tremble of fear to my voice. I wasn’t convinced he knew it was me.

“Elma, I need to be buried deep inside you. Please. Let me forget. Let me wipe from your mind what you saw.” Liquidy deep blue eyes tried to focus on my face, only briefly, before his mouth ravaged mine. I tried to keep up, but I couldn’t get to where he was headed. I slipped out of my jeans as his foot worked them to my ankles. My thigh was raised and Abel was inside me. I yelped at the intrusion.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry,” he said, as he hammered into me. My head thudded against the door behind me. His hips crashed against mine as he worked a rapid pace. It was sharp and quick, and then he stilled, filling me with warmth. He paused his kissing attack and leaned his forehead against mine, as he continued to mutter.

“Forgive me, Elma,” he pleaded.

“Shhh. There’s nothing to forgive, Abel, honey,” I mothered him. He was still inside me when he pulled back a little. His hands were in my hair, holding my head so I had his attention.

“I would never hurt you like that, Elma. Never. Ever. I don’t want you to be afraid of me. I don’t want you to be scared that I’ll become him.”

“Never,” I whispered. “You could never be him. You’re kind and loving. You’re forgiving and compassionate. You will never be him, Abel. Ever,” I emphasized. A tear slipped from his eye and I reached a shaky finger to wipe it away. Abel turned into my hand and kissed the finger. He pulled out of me almost as roughly as he entered.