Loving Mr. Cane: Cane Series #3 Read online




  Loving Mr. Cane

  Cane Series #3

  Shanora Williams

  Contents

  Notifications

  Author Note

  I. SURRENDER

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  II. SURVIVING

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  III. WINNING

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Afterword

  About Being Mrs. Cane

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  Copyright © 2018 Shanora Williams

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  Author Note

  Hey there!

  Just a heads up, this is the third book of the Cane Series and cannot be read as a standalone. To read Wanting Mr. Cane (#1) and Breaking Mr. Cane (#2), the first and second books of the series, you can find them below.

  1) Wanting Mr. Cane

  2) Breaking Mr. Cane

  For those eager for more Kandy Cane, I really hope you enjoy this continuation of their story!

  Sending all my love,

  Shanora

  Part I

  SURRENDER

  Prologue

  CANE

  When I was younger, I heard tales about a man feared by everyone. Men I thought were spooked by nothing and no one were afraid of him. Men who shot at police officers, served lengthy prison sentences, and faced the barrel of smoking guns daily felt threatened by him.

  It astounded me that these men never spoke ill of him. It was always proper, never trash-talking or bragging. They only called him by one name, and had even told me several times that if he were called by anything else, there was a high likelihood that you’d be dead within a week. It was a name that, at the time, made no sense to me…

  But then I met him, and I understood why everyone gave him his due.

  He wasn’t your typical dealer. He wore expensive suits and watches and kept up with his appearance. Unlike most, he didn’t use his supplies. He was 100 percent clean, and that’s what kept him on top of his game.

  He was smart and dedicated.

  Persistent and precise.

  He played the drug world like a game of chess, always making the right move that would keep him one step ahead, never swaying or deterring. He’d never slipped up—not once—and it was insane of me to want to work with someone like him…but when it came down to it, I had no other choice.

  His name was Draco Molina. Many knew him as El Jefe. The Boss. And a boss he was, because when he made a statement, it was abundantly clear. When he ran jobs and scheduled deliveries, they were always on time, and when he needed his money, he came for it, whether you were ready to pay up or not.

  Chapter One

  KANDY

  Beep…beep…beep…

  The noise was relentless, pulling me out of a dark haze.

  I peeled my eyes open and looked to the left. First thing I saw was blonde hair and then a blue blouse.

  “Mom?” I croaked. My throat was bone dry.

  “Kandy, sweetie! Oh my gosh!” She hopped up and hugged me tight around the neck. I lifted my arms and tried hugging her back, but it hurt too much.

  “Ow,” I groaned, holding my stomach.

  Mom looked down with worry in her eyes. “You were stabbed, Kandy,” she informed me, and when the words hit me, the events rushed through me like a tidal wave. Gasping, I held the area where the wound was patched up. It was on my pelvis, slightly to the right. The bandage stretched to my hip bone.

  My breathing picked up as the memories rushed to me. She was screaming so loudly. Her eyes were so wild. The blade was so sharp.

  “Oh, God,” I breathed. “W-where is she? Where’s Cane?”

  “Kandy, sweetie. Calm down, please.”

  “No—where is he? Is he okay?” I demanded, and Mom’s eyes softened before flashing over to the left. I looked with her and realized Dad was standing by the door.

  “Is it true that Kelly did this?” she whispered, voice breaking. “Did she attack you?”

  “Y-yes. I remember. She came for me with a knife.”

  “Oh my God.” Mom shoved a hand through her hair. “We thought Cane was making things up. He’s in custody for questioning right now. I just don’t understand why she’d do such a thing after telling us to be wary of Cane. I knew I shouldn’t have jumped to conclusions!”

  “He’s in custody? No, you have to tell them he didn’t do it! Call them, Dad!” I demanded, focusing on him. “I’ll testify myself. He didn’t do anything!”

  “Are you sure about that?” Dad took a step closer, and I couldn’t understand why he was frowning. I had literally been stabbed and he was looking at me like he hated me. “Did he know and needed a way for you to get rid of it?”

  “W-what?” I asked, scowling.

  “Is this why you really left?” Dad’s voice boomed.

  I frowned. “What are you talking about?”

  “How long have you known, Kandy?” he barked, demanding an answer, but I had no clue what the hell he was even talking about.

  “Derek!” Mom warned, giving him a not-so-subtle glare. “Not. Now,” she gritted through her teeth.

  “What is going on?” I demanded. “How long have I known what? That Kelly was crazy?”

  “No!” His voice made me feel small. “That you were pregnant, Kandy!”

  His words seemed to make the whole room vibrate. My heart plummeted, and Mom sucked in a sharp breath, as if she were bracing for a flood to break through the dam.

  “Pregnant?” My voice broke. “But I—I’m not pregnant. How?”

  “What do you mean how? By having sex, that’s how—and with the wrong fucking people!” Dad snapped.

  I was losing it. Maybe I was
in a coma and having a terrible, terrible dream. There was no way I could have been pregnant. My mind raced to the days and weeks before. I hadn’t felt sick at all, or fatigued, none of the things I’d read about. I was fine.

  My mind ran in circles, trying to recall any symptoms, but I came up short. And if that news wasn’t bad enough, what my mother said next truly did me in.

  “The stab wound punctured your uterus, Kandy.” Mom sniffled, grabbing my hands and squeezing them. “You bled a lot, but it was mostly the baby. According to the doctors, you were six weeks along…but you…you lost the baby, honey.” Tears rolled down her pink cheeks. “I’m so sorry, sweetie.”

  So.

  So.

  Sorry.

  The word sorry wasn’t fitting enough. It did nothing to the hollowness in my chest, didn’t fill me up one damn bit.

  They say there are five stages of grief. Well, this was where stage one started: denial. And the next one, anger. It swept through me like a plague, but despite how mad I was, I couldn’t do anything but break down and sob into my own hands.

  Kelly stabbed me, almost like she knew where it would hurt most. I was in a rage. I wanted to find her and strangle her. I’d never felt so hostile, and yet still so helpless. I couldn’t leave the hospital, and Cane was being questioned for something he didn’t even do.

  That night, I wept. Mom held me. Dad was too livid to come too close at first, so he walked out and got some air. He was gone for only twenty minutes before coming back and wrapping me in his arms. Both of my parents—my beautiful, loving parents, who only wanted the best for me—were holding me, cooing to me. Murmuring that everything was going to be okay.

  I felt safe—still angry, but safe.

  In that moment, my parents were my rock, and my worries had temporarily subsided.

  Little did I know that stage two was a walk in the park compared to stage three and four.

  Anger is easy to feel and easy to let go of. But to bargain and ask for the right thing to happen, and then to feel like there is nothing left to do but let go and accept the terrible fate?

  Well, that’s the hardest part.

  Chapter Two

  CANE

  I was so sick of being hounded with questions. The detectives were on my ass all night, and at one point, I thought they were never going to let up.

  Was I a dumbass for touching the knife? Yes, but that didn’t make me the threat. I was trying to stop that bitch from killing me.

  “What would possess you to touch the weapon that harmed Kandy, Mr. Cane? Explain it to me, because it truly doesn’t make any sense.” Detective Maye stood in front of me, her dark hair pulled back into a tight ponytail, wrinkles forming around her eyes. She had to be in her early forties, with brown skin and dark brown eyes. She’d been hounding me ever since she walked into the room with her hefty partner Jordan Rowe at her side.

  Apparently, she was the bad cop, and he was the good one. Either way, neither of them could fool me. Luckily, thirty minutes ago, my attorney, Mario Valdez, came waltzing into the room, and I was glad because I needed this night to be over.

  “Look, I don’t know what else you’d like him to say,” my attorney said, sitting forward. “As he explained, he took the knife from Miss Hugo’s hands and tackled her to the ground because he was under attack. She had already stabbed a young lady, Detective Maye. She most likely would have gone after him, too, if he hadn’t stopped her. Instead of questioning my client, how about you bring Miss Hugo in and question her about it? He isn’t the only suspect of this horrific crime.”

  “We are looking for her right now,” Detective Rowe stated.

  “My client has been here for well over fourteen hours. He is tired and exhausted and upset about the events that happened under the roof of his own home. He’s not under arrest, is he?”

  “Not exactly,” Detective Rowe muttered, looking sideways at Detective Maye.

  “Well if he isn’t under arrest, he should be able to leave. If you have any more questions, he will be around to answer them. He won’t be far.”

  Detective Maye glared at me. When her phone chimed, she took it out, finally pulling her eyes away from me to check the screen. She then showed the phone to her partner, whose bushy eyebrows shot up to his forehead when he read the notification.

  Detective Rowe grunted as he stood and walked to the door to open it.

  “You can go,” he said.

  “Is there something we should be aware of, Detective Maye?” Mario asked, collecting his pens and papers and tucking them into his briefcase.

  I stood up, heading for the door.

  “The victim has spoken to one of our investigators.” Detective Maye let out a short breath. “She remembers everything. Says Miss Hugo showed up and attacked her, and Mr. Cane here tried to stop her. I suppose your confession has been proven true.”

  “Good,” I said, even though Mario told me to keep my mouth shut. I didn’t give a damn. I was sick of them making me out to be the fucking bad guy. “And for the record,” I said in Maye’s face, “I would never hurt Kandy. Next time you come at me, come at me with your facts straight.”

  She looked at me through narrowed eyelids. “Don’t leave the city, Mr. Cane. You are still considered a suspect until we get a hold of Miss Hugo, especially considering the new information we just uncovered. This doesn’t mean you’re in the clear.”

  “Whatever,” I grumbled, turning away and walking out the door. I didn’t care what new information they uncovered. They were so full of shit.

  I hurried to the window, where I was checked out and given my car keys and cell phone, and then burst out the door. It was still dark outside, probably around 2:00 a.m. Though it was late, I wanted to see Kandy. She was probably terrified after what had happened. I needed to know she was okay.

  “Cane! Wait!” Mario called after me.

  I stopped at the bottom of the cement steps, looking over my shoulder as he walked down.

  “She is right about you staying in the city. You can’t travel anywhere until you are in the clear and they have enough evidence from neighbors and the girl. They’ll ask Kandy some thorough, deep questions. They’ll bring Kelly in, and she will most likely lie, but I want you to remember what you told me.”

  “What exactly did I tell you?”

  “She recently found out how you could afford to build Tempt, thanks to her snooping around and piecing the puzzle together, and if she gets that shitstorm of a conversation started, there will most likely be another investigation opened, and they’ll come searching your place. My question to you is—will they be able to find anything?”

  “They won’t find a damn thing, Mario. My house is clean. I don’t do that anymore.”

  “Okay. Okay.” He held his hands in the air. “Just making sure.” He pulled a pack of cigarettes from the pocket inside his jacket. He took one out and pinched it between his lips, then offered one to me. With a sigh, I plucked one out, needing something to take the edge off. Not only that, but I was going to have to either hitch a ride with him to the hospital, where my car was, or call up a taxi. I wasn’t up for the latter.

  I hadn’t smoked since my mother got out of rehab. We promised each other. For me, it was no more cigarettes. For her, it was no more drugs and no more Buck. It had been one hell of a day, though. A cigarette was what I needed.

  “Be honest,” I mumbled, the cigarette between my lips. He sparked the end of mine, and I inhaled hard before exhaling. “I won’t be in the clear for a while, will I?”

  “Not if Kelly tells your truth.” He took a drag. “I looked into her background before I got here. Called up a few people who could get me some information. She has a lawyer here named Chase Berry. He’s a damn good lawyer, and somehow always knows how to plead a mental case for her.”

  “Mental case? More than one? Fuck my life.”

  “Yeah. She’s had a lot of accusation, but there were three in particular that stood out to me the most.” Another drag.
“There was a restraining order. I don’t know all the details, only that she threatened the fiancée of a man she was dating. From what I gathered, she and that man had probably stopped dating a long time ago, but Kelly was thinking they were still together.”

  “Shit.” I took a harder pull.

  “She went to an inpatient facility for three months to get out from under that one. Apparently therapists deemed her as bipolar with narcissistic tendencies. One therapist said she was pushing more toward Borderline Personality Disorder.”

  “You’re fucking kidding? And that’s what I’m dealing with? Fuck, how didn’t I know she was this fucking crazy? Took a damn stabbing for me to see how dangerous she actually is.”

  “I don’t know, but I’d keep a close eye on her. What she says could damage your career and your reputation…and you know El Jefe has no patience for messy situations.”

  I frowned and slowly dragged my gaze back over to his. He was already looking at me. Dropping his cigarette, he stepped on the butt of it, getting rid of the spark. “What the hell did you just say?”