Bound By Vengeance (Born in Blood Mafia Chronicles Book 5)

I was woken by a sound I couldn’t place. Like claws on wood. My eyes flew open, staring up at a white ceiling, not my canopy bed. A few dark stains dotted the white that was actually more grey, as if someone had swatted flies or mosquitos and not bothered to clean up afterward. Confusion slithered through my sleepy mind, and then everything that had happened came crashing down on me. I jerked into a sitting position. It took a moment before I figured out the noise I’d heard. The dogs. They were in front of my door again.

Damn it. I really needed to go to the toilet, but with the dogs waiting for me that was out of the question. Not that I even knew where the bathroom was.

I stood slowly, legs shaky, and peered out of the small window. It looked out into a small garden. The lawn hadn’t been mowed in a while and like the house, the garden, too, was devoid of any decoration. Someone was screaming in the neighbor houses. A woman, followed by a man. The same couple I had overheard last night.

I leaned against the window sill, analyzing my surroundings. I’d always been good at math. I liked things neat and predictable. And where had all my laid out plans gotten me?

The fence caging in the garden was topped with barbed wire. Could I get over it? Probably not without hurting myself badly and then Growl would just have to send the dogs after me and they’d follow the trail. And what about the neighbors? Would they help me hide or would they just call Growl in hope of a reward? Probably the latter considering the people I had encountered so far.

The door screeched. I whirled around, body tensing with fear. Growl stepped inside, his eyes landing on me. I quickly covered my bra with my arms.

He seemed less unhinged than last night, and though his gaze slid over my half-naked upper body, his expression didn’t show any reaction. His right forearm was bandaged where I’d cut him. Above it there were more marks. Scratches that I didn’t remember inflicting, but I’d been in a panic so I wasn’t sure what exactly I’d done. He followed my gaze briefly but didn’t react. He didn’t seem to resent me for injuring him. I hoped that was a good sign.

“You are awake,” he said in a low voice. He’d never raised his voice the few times I’d heard him speak but his words carried enough power anyway.

I huffed at his statement but didn’t say anymore. The pressure on my bladder was growing close to unbearable. Behind Growl, two massive dogs appeared. They only reached his knees but considering Growl’s stature, that was more than a little intimidating. What was worse: they were panting and giving me a good look at their sharp teeth. They were definitely some kind of fight dogs. And judging by the scars on their faces and the rip in the ear of the black one, they’d fought a few battles. Growl put a backpack I hadn’t noticed before down on the ground between us. “I got a few things for you from your house.”

My house. I tried to conjure up an image of my cozy, beautiful home but images from last night were all I could come up with, and I’d rather not remember my house at all than like that. I stepped forward. “Did you see my mother and sister? How are they?”

Growl frowned. “No. They aren’t my concern.”

“But you must know something, anything. What did Falcone tell you before you came to our house?”

“I didn’t ask Falcone what his plans were. You shouldn’t ask so many questions. I don’t have the answers,” he said merely and was about to turn around.

“I need to go to the bathroom,” I babbled. I felt ashamed that I had to ask someone if I was allowed to go to the bathroom.

Growl paused, frown deepening. “Then why didn’t you go?”

I almost laughed. “Because I don’t know where it is and I thought I was supposed to stay in the room.”  

“You can walk around the house whenever you want. I won’t lock you into your room. You aren’t a child.”

“Only a prisoner.”

One of his dark-brown brows twitched but I couldn’t link the reaction with an emotion. I didn’t know him well enough. And I doubted anyone knew him like that. To be honest, I wasn’t sure if he was capable of emotions at all, or if his facial expressions weren’t just his body’s natural reaction to outward influences or something he’d learned to imitate from being around other people.

When the silence became unbearable, I asked. “So I can leave if I want to?”

Growl’s amber eyes pierced me to the core. “You can try,” he rumbled. “But I will find you no matter where you go. I will follow you to the end of the world.”

“How romantic,” I whispered with false bravado.

“You are mine.”

“Stop saying that,” I snapped. I was so tired of him reminding me of it. I wanted to hit him hard for the hint of smugness and pride that had crossed his face when he’d said I was his.

“Are you done?” he asked emotionless. “Come on.” He turned without waiting for my reaction. I couldn’t believe him. I grabbed the backpack from the ground and was about to follow when I saw the dogs standing in the hallway in front of the room. I jerked to a stop. They both watched me calmly but with definite interest. My pulse picked up again. And I’d thought I was too tired to be afraid anymore. Definitely not.

“They won’t hurt you. They are good dogs,” Growl said, waiting for me down the narrow corridor. I wasn’t sure but I thought I heard a hint of amusement in his voice.

“They don’t look like good dogs,” I said hesitantly as I crept closer to them.

“Don’t judge things by their looks. It’s deceiving.”

My back against the wall, I walked past the dogs. They followed me slowly, their keen eyes never straying from me.

My gaze wandered over Growl. His tattoos and scars. “Sometimes the outside and the inside match,” I said quietly.

His expression shifted but again I had no chance of knowing what was going on in his head. At least he’d caught my hint, so he wasn’t as ignorant as some people considered him to be.

He pointed at a door. “That’s the bathroom.”

“There’s only one?” I asked, and then almost cringed at how that made me sound.

“This is your life now, better get used to it,” he said.

I rushed into the bathroom and locked the door, feeling a flood of satisfaction at having that sliver of control if only for a moment. I ignored the worry that Growl might be lingering in front of the door and listening to whatever I did, and went to the toilet. He’d heard and seen worse, no doubt. But I made sure to hurry and was glad when I was done.

I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror over the washbasin when I washed my hands and almost recoiled from my own reflection. My hair was a wild mess and mascara smudged the skin around my eyes from crying, but worst of all was how pale my face was and how hollow my eyes looked. Only one day and not only my life had changed but my body too.

I didn’t want to imagine how much worse I’d be off in a few weeks or months. I didn’t want to imagine having to live through that many days with Growl as my captor. I took a deep breath and turned the water to cold, then splashed my face with it until I felt more like myself. I tried to forget where I was for the moment, tried to let familiar motions take over my body. When I peered into Growl’s bathroom cabinets for a toothbrush, I was greeted by the same emptiness that I’d encountered elsewhere in the house. There was a toothbrush and toothpaste, a razor, and deodorant. No perfume or other bodycare products. I put some toothpaste on my forefinger and used it to brush my teeth.

After that I turned to the shower, but hesitated in front of it, debating if I should risk getting naked. But the stench of blood still lingered on my skin and mingled with sweat and Growl’s musky scent. I got out of my clothes. I wasn’t save anymore. Taking a shower wouldn’t change that. Sooner or later Growl would do whatever he wanted to do and there was nothing I could do to stop him.

The shower stall was old but clean, the faucet creaky and it took a long time for the water to turn moderately warm. I scrubbed my skin until it felt raw and hot, and would probably have continued to do so if a knock hadn’t interrupted me.

“You’ve got two more minutes.”

I turned the water off. Despite my first instinct to provoke Growl, I didn’t want to risk him coming in. I quickly dried myself off and then opened the backpack. My breath hitched when I caught sight of my clothes. It was strange how little things suddenly meant so much.

I carefully took out a crème-colored cotton dress that hugged my body. I’d wanted to donate it because it wasn’t en-vogue anymore. Now it felt like the most precious thing I owned. I slid the soft fabric over my body and put on tights. Being dressed in my old clothes felt wrong in this place, like a relict from old times.

When I left the bathroom, Growl wasn’t there, nor were his dogs.

I lingered in the hallway, unsure what to do or where to go. The walls were greyish white like in my room and the dark wood floor had seen better days.

The scent of coffee drifted over to me and eventually lured me into a big kitchen. Growl leaned against the kitchen counter, a cup of coffee in his hand and his dogs lying on blankets in a corner of the room. His gaze was directed at a message on his mobile. There weren’t any chairs or a table. Apparently, Growl preferred to take his meals while standing.

He looked up and his eyes traveled the length of my body, lingering on my legs and hips and breasts.

I forced myself to remain calm, to hide the nerves the heat of his gaze created.

He wore a tight white shirt that didn’t manage to hide his muscles, nor the outlines of too-many tattoos. My eyes drifted to the scar around his neck.

“Here,” he said, pushing a cup of coffee over to me. “Drink.”

“I prefer my coffee with milk,” I said.

“No milk in the house. Black or nothing.”

I took the cup, relishing the heat of it, and downed a few gulps of the hot liquid. His attention had returned to the mobile on the kitchen counter again. “There are eggs in the fridge if you are hungry.”

I stared at him. “Are you serious?” I asked, setting the cup down hard on the counter. “Yesterday Falcone gave me to you like a present and now you pretend like this is normal, like we can act normal around each other. Why don’t you do us both a favor and let me go.”

He was in front of me before I could react. I craned my neck to peer at his face. I was trapped between him and the kitchen. He grabbed me by the waist and hoisted me up on the counter, then pressed between my legs, bringing our faces close together. I held my breath, stunned by his sudden movement.

My heart was beating frantically against my ribcage, but I tried to hide my fear of him behind my hatred. His hand cradled the back of my head, keeping me in place and then his mouth came down on mine, his tongue sliding past my lips. I made a sound of protest but it was swallowed by Growl’s mouth.

I jerked my head back, panting and glared at him. I hated him. Hated him for who he was, but worse for what he’d made me feel. For the barest moment I’d allowed myself to drown in the kiss because it managed to make me forget everything, helped me drown out the sadness and fear and worry. And in that short instant, it had felt wondrous and good. So good, that my body had tingled and I’d felt it in my fingertips and toes. Everywhere. It was wrong. God, so wrong. Like the man in front of me.

I wiped my mouth and then just like that the tingling was gone and what was left was revulsion. “Don’t touch me,” I hissed. “Ever again.”

He smiled humorlessly. “Why?”

“Because you repulse me. You are a monster and I don’t want your hands on me, not when they’re covered in blood.”

Growl

Emotions, he’d never quite understood them. Most people had too many, and showed them even more willingly. Especially women seemed too unconcerned about showing that part of themselves. Cara was no different. Hate, it had been plain on her face.

She hated him.

Everyone did.

She feared him.

Everyone did.

He was used to that kind of reaction to him. He didn’t care.

He wasn’t a smart man; not even close to being as smart as her. He knew it, and maybe that made him smarter than most of Falcone’s men. He knew his limitations, felt them every day and accepted them, but never let them stop him. But despite his lack of smarts, he knew that Cara wasn’t really a reward for him. That wasn’t why she’d been given to him. Of course, she was a reward, was the greatest gift someone like him could hope for, was more than someone as dark and dirty deserved, but that wasn’t why Falcone had made her his gift.

This wasn’t a reward for him, it was a punishment for her and her father, and if anything held true than that he was a true punishment. Growl knew that, and maybe he should have felt revolted, should have felt guilty, should have refused a gift like that, but he wasn’t that kind of man, and that was why Falcone had chosen wisely. He was the punishment no one deserved, least of all her. But now that he had her, Cara, his gift, he would never let her go. The kiss, it had given him a taste of what was to come, of Cara, and damn, she’d tasted sweet with a hint of bitterness from the coffee. Sweeter than any woman he’d kissed, but there hadn’t been many and his last kiss was a long time ago. He didn’t like to kiss the whores. Not because they took other men’s cocks into their mouth, though that too if he was perfectly honest with himself, but mostly because it was too intimate. He’d never understood the value of kissing, when sex and a blowjob brought quicker satisfaction, but since the first time he’d seen Cara’s pink lips, he’d wondered how it would be to kiss her. In the beginning it had been a ridiculous fantasy, one that would never come true, but then it had become a possibility.

He stared down at her furious face, and the hard set of her lips. He wanted to kiss her again, taste her again, but he had learned to control his desires. The way she looked at him now, reminded him of the first time they’d met, of the looks every woman in society gave him. He stepped back before his anger could get the better of him like it had last time. He didn’t have time for another visit with Lola. And if he was honest, it had been as satisfying with her as usual.

Then take Cara. She’s yours.

She was. But he couldn’t imagine treating her like he treated Lola. Not just because Cara wouldn’t react the way Growl wanted but also because he didn’t like the idea of treating her that way. She was too precious.

He backed away from her and took up his phone again. Falcone wanted to see him in the afternoon. Growl doubted the man had a real job for him. Falcone wanted to hear gruesome details of what Growl had done to Cara.

He glanced her way. She still sat on the counter where he’d put her but she’d crossed her legs protectively and was watching him cautiously. Even like that, she managed to look graceful and ladylike, and absolutely out of place in his house.

Perhaps Falcone hadn’t just meant Growl as a punishment for Cara. Perhaps he’d also hoped to put Growl in his place, to show him that despite his years of service, he still wasn’t worthy.