Chapter four

The sun peeked through a dull haze as Elena drove back into the city the next morning, her hands tight on the steering wheel. Her jaw still ached from clenching it all night. Her mother’s cold words echoed in her mind like a broken record.

He’s a murderer. This obsession is unbecoming.

It wasn’t an obsession at least, she hadn’t meant for it to become one. But Cain Maddox… he was different. In ways that intrigued her. In ways that scared her.

The road narrowed as the familiar silhouette of the prison loomed ahead. Blackstone Correctional Facility has gray walls, high fences, and armed guards. It looked the same as yesterday, but it felt different. Yesterday, she was nervous. Today, she was… restless.

Her ID badge felt heavier than usual around her neck as she stepped through the front gates, signed in, and was escorted through the concrete halls. The air was cold, metallic, and unwelcoming. But she didn’t flinch. She couldn't afford to.

Cain Maddox waited for her in that same private room. No handcuffs. No chains. Just him, and the silence between them.

When she walked in, he was already seated, leaning back in the chair like he owned the space, eyes dark and unreadable. His tattoos curled around his forearms like secrets, and his expression was carved from stone.

“Elena Hart,” he said, voice low and rough. “You came back.”

She sat down slowly, trying to ignore the skip in her heartbeat at the way he said her name. “Of course I did.”

“I thought you might not.”

“Why? Because I flinched once?”

He smirked. “Because people like you usually run.”

Elena leaned forward slightly, her tone sharper than she intended. “I’m not like most people, Cain.”

His eyes held hers, something unreadable flickering in their depths. “We’ll see.”

She clicked her pen and opened her notebook, trying to stay composed. But his stare made it hard to breathe.

“I want to ask you about your time before the arrest,” she began. “Your childhood. Your relationship with your sister.”

Cain’s eyes narrowed slightly. “You think if you understand the boy I used to be, you’ll understand the man I became?”

“I think if I understand your pain, I’ll understand your choices.”

He chuckled, but there was no humor in it. “Pain doesn’t make people interesting, sweetheart. It makes them dangerous.”

That word again. Sweetheart. It sent a ripple down her spine.

“I can handle danger,” she said, not backing down.

Cain tilted his head, appraising her. “Then ask your questions. But don’t pretend you’re not curious about me. Curious.”

Elena’s throat went dry. She jotted a few words in her notebook just to distract herself.

Cain leaned back in his chair, arms folded across his chest, his eyes never leaving hers. “So,” he said, voice low, rough like gravel, “you want to know about me. About what I did.”

Elena sat across from him, pen poised, notebook open, but her hand trembled slightly. Not from fear. From anticipation.

She nodded, her throat tight. “Yes. That’s why I’m here.”

He chuckled softly, a sound that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “No, that’s what you tell yourself. But I’ve seen the way you look at me, Elena Hart. You’re not here to study me. You’re here because you’re curious. Because I scare you and that excites you.”

Her spine stiffened. “I’m here because I’m writing my thesis on the psychological impact of trauma on decision-making. And your case…”

“My case?” he interrupted, lips curling. “Isn’t that what I am to you? A case? A file? A number?”

Elena looked at him, really looked at him. “You’re a man who lost everything. A man who reacted when the world failed him. I don’t think that’s just a case. I think it’s human.”

Cain’s jaw ticked. He studied her in silence for a long moment. “And you think you can handle my truth?”

“I can handle whatever you give me.”

He smirked. “Dangerous thing to say to a man like me.”

There was a beat of silence, taut and buzzing with energy. The air between them thickened. Elena tried to focus on her questions, flipping a page in her notebook.

“Tell me about your sister,” she said finally.

His eyes darkened. “Why?”

“Because everything started there.”

Cain’s hands curled into loose fists. “She was fifteen. Sweet. Too trusting. She liked to draw. She believed people were better than they are.” He leaned forward slightly, voice dropping. “You remind me of her. All that light. That hope. Like this world hasn’t ruined you yet.”

Elena swallowed hard. “I’m not like her.”

“Maybe not,” he said, eyes dragging over her features, slow and deliberate. “But I wonder how long it’ll take for that hope in you to rot.”

Elena forced herself to look steady. “Is that what happened to you?”

He leaned closer, his face inches from hers now. “I didn’t rot. I burned.”

Her breath hitched. “And now?”

“I’m still burning.”

She could smell him clean, faintly musky, heat radiating from his skin. Her throat tightened as he looked at her, not just like he was peeling her open, but like he wanted to.

“I think about that night,” he said, voice like a threat and a confession all at once. “More than I should. Not the blood. Not the rage. But what came after? The silence. The chains. The years.”

Elena’s voice was barely above a whisper. “Do you regret it?”

“No.” His answer came without hesitation. “Not even for a second.”

The way he said it sent a shiver down her spine. He didn’t speak like a man haunted by guilt. He spoke like a man haunted by something deeper. Purpose.

“You’re not scared of me, are you?” he asked suddenly.

Elena didn’t answer right away. Her heart was pounding. Her body taut with tension. “I don’t know what I am,” she said honestly.

Cain smiled. Not the polite kind. The kind that came from deep inside. “That’s the most honest thing you’ve said.”

The door clicked softly. A guard poked his head in.

“Time’s up.”

Cain didn’t look away from her.

“Same time next tomorrow?” she asked, gathering her notebook, her voice steadier than she felt.

“Same time,” he said. “Unless you come to your senses before then.”

She rose, turned, but paused at the door. She looked back.

“Maybe you’re the one who’s curious, Cain.”

For a split second, his expression shifted just enough to show something had gotten under his skin.

She stepped out without waiting for his answer.

And just like that, the interview ended.

But everything between them had just begun.