Like this is normal. Like this is just another night.
Something in me snaps.
I don't know what it is. I don't understand it.
I've seen violence before and it's never affected me like this.
But looking at her, at the fear in her eyes, at the way she's stopped fighting because she knows it won't help?—
I want to kill him.
The thought is cold and clear and absolute.
I want to wrap my hands around Cain's throat the way he's got his hands around hers.
I want to watch the life drain out of his eyes.
I want to make him feel every ounce of fear he's put into her.
I don't.
Instead, I step forward, making my presence known.
My boots crunch on the gravel, deliberately loud.
Cain's head snaps toward me.
For a split second, I see something flicker across his face—surprise, maybe, or fear.
Then it's gone, replaced by that easy charm, that practiced smile.
He releases her.
Ripley stumbles, catches herself on the bike, gasps for air.
Her hand goes to her throat, pressing against the skin like she's checking to make sure she's still alive.
"Prez." Cain's voice is smooth. Casual. Like I didn't just catch him choking the life out of his woman. "Didn't see you there."
I don't respond.
I just look at him.
Let the silence stretch.
Let him feel the weight of my gaze.
He shifts, uncomfortable. Good.
"Just a disagreement," he says, spreading his hands like it's nothing. "You know how women get. Emotional. Irrational. Sometimes you gotta remind them who's in charge." He laughs, like we're sharing a joke. Like I'm supposed to understand.
I don't laugh.
My eyes move to Ripley.
She's standing very still, arms wrapped around herself, head bowed.
She won't look at me. Her whole body is trembling.
