Dear I was awakened by a sound I could not place. Like claws on wood. I jerked my eyes open, staring at a white ceiling, not my four-poster bed. A few dark spots dotted the white that was actually more gray, as if someone had swatted away flies or mosquitoes and hadn’t bothered to clean up afterwards.
Confusion snaked through my sleepy mind, and then everything that had happened came crashing down on me. I pulled myself up in my seat. It took a moment before I realized the noise I had heard. The dogs. They were in front of my door again.
Damn. I really needed to go to the bathroom, but with the dogs waiting for me it was out of the question. Not that I even knew where the bathroom was.
I got up slowly, legs shaking, and peeked out the small window. It overlooked a small garden. The lawn had not been mowed for a while and, like the house, the garden was devoid of any decoration. Someone was shouting into the neighbors’ houses. A woman, followed by a man. The same couple I had heard the night before.
I leaned against the window sill, analyzing my ‘surroundings. I had always been good at math. I liked things neat and predictable. And where had all my elaborate plans led me ? The fence surrounding the garden was topped with barbed wire. Could I have gotten through it ? Probably not without hurting myself badly, and then Growl would simply have to send the dogs after me and they would follow the trail. What about the neighbors? Would they have helped me hide or would they have simply called Growl in hopes of a reward?
Probably the latter, considering the people I had met so far. The door creaked open. I turned sharply, my body tense with fear. Growl walked in, his eyes resting on me. I quickly covered my bra with my arms. He seemed less deranged than the night before, and although his gaze slid over my half-naked upper body, his expression showed no reaction. His right forearm was bandaged where I had cut it. Above it were more marks. Scratches I didn’t remember making on him, but I was in a panic so I wasn’t sure exactly what I had done. He briefly followed my gaze but did not react.
He didn’t seem to resent being hurt. I hoped that was a good sign. “You’re awake,” he said quietly. He had never raised his voice the few times I had heard him speak, but his words still had enough power. I huffed at his statement but said nothing more. The pressure on my bladder was becoming almost unbearable. Behind Growl, two huge dogs appeared. They only reached to their knees, but considering Growl’s stature, it was more than a little intimidating. What was worse: they were panting and looking right at me with their sharp teeth. They were definitely fighting dogs. And judging by the scars on their faces and the tear in the ear of the black one , they had fought a few battles. Growl laid a backpack I hadn’t noticed before on the ground between us. “I got some things for you from your house.” My house. I tried to conjure up an image of my cozy and beautiful home, but last night’s images were all I could come up with, and I would rather not remember my home at all than like this. I took a step forward. “Have you seen my mother and sister? How are they?” Growl frowned. “No. It’s none of my business.” “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 simply and was about to turn around. “I have to go to the bathroom,” I stammered. I was ashamed to have to ask someone if I was allowed to go to the bathroom. Growl paused, the frown deepening. “Then why didn’t you go ?” I almost laughed. “Because I don’t know where it is and I thought I should stay in the room.” “You can walk around the house whenever you want. I won’t lock you in your room. You are not a child.” “Just a prisoner.” One of his dark brown eyebrows twitched, but I could not connect the reaction to an emotion. I didn’t know him well enough. And I doubted that anyone knew him that way. To be honest, I wasn’t sure if he was capable of emotion, or if his facial expressions weren’t just his body’s natural reaction to outside influences or something he had learned to imitate by being with 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 grumbled. “But I’ll find you wherever you go. I’ll follow you to the end of the world.” “How romantic,” I whispered with false bravado. “You are mine.” “Stop saying that,” I blurted. I was so tired of him reminding me. I wanted to hit him hard for the hint of conceit and pride that had crossed his face when he had said I was his. “Are you done?” he asked without emotion.
“Come on.” He turned away without waiting for my reaction. I could not believe it . I grabbed my backpack from the floor and was about to follow them when I saw the dogs standing in the hallway across the room. I stopped short. They both looked at me calmly but with unmistakable interest. My pulse quickened again. And I thought I was too tired to be afraid anymore. Surely not. “They won’t hurt you. They are good dogs,” Growl said, waiting for me along 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 sneaked closer. “Don’t judge things by their appearance. It’s deceptive.” With my back against the wall, I walked past the dogs. They followed me slowly, their sharp eyes never leaving my side. My gaze wandered to Growl. His tattoos and scars. “Sometimes the outside and the inside coincide,” I said softly. His expression changed, but once again I had no way of knowing what was going through his mind. At least he had taken my hint, so he was not as ignorant as some considered him. He pointed to a door. “That’s the bathroom.” ” Is there only one?” I asked, and then almost shuddered at how it made me sound. “This is your life now, you better get used to it,” he said. I ran to the bathroom and locked the door, feeling a surge of satisfaction at having had that shred of control even for a moment. I ignored the worry that Growl might linger at the door and listen to whatever I was doing, and went into the bathroom. He had 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 above the sink as I washed my hands and almost recoiled from my reflection. My hair was a mess and my mascara was smudging the skin around my eyes from crying, but the worst thing of all was how pale my face was and how sunken my eyes looked. Just one day and not only had my life changed, but so had my body. I did not want to imagine how much worse I would be in a matter of weeks or months. I did not want to imagine having to live so many days with Growl as my captor. I took a deep breath and changed the water to cold, then splashed it on my face until I no longer felt like myself. I tried to forget where I was for the moment, tried to let familiar movements take over my body. When I peeked into Growl’s bathroom cabinets to look for a toothbrush, I was greeted by the same emptiness I had encountered elsewhere in the house. There was a toothbrush and toothpaste, a razor and deodorant. No perfume or other body care products. I put some toothpaste on my index finger and used it to brush my teeth. After that I turned toward the shower, but hesitated in front of it, wondering if I shouldn’t risk undressing. But the stench of blood still hovered over my skin and mingled with Growl’s sweat and musky smell. I took off my clothes. I was no longer safe.
Taking a shower was not going to change that. Sooner or later Growl would do whatever he wanted and there was nothing I could do to stop him. The shower stall was old but clean, the faucet squeaked, and it took a long time for the water to get moderately hot. I rubbed my skin until I felt it flushed and hot, and I probably would have continued to do so if a shot hadn’t interrupted me. “You have two more minutes.” I turned off the water. Despite my first instinct to provoke Growl, I didn’t want to risk it going in. I dried myself quickly and then opened my backpack. My breathing stopped when I saw my clothes. It was strange how little things suddenly meant so much. I carefully pulled out a cream-colored cotton dress that hugged my body. I wanted to donate it because it was no longer in fashion. Now it looked like the most precious thing I owned . I slipped the soft fabric over my body and put on my pantyhose. Wearing my old clothes felt wrong in that place, like a relic of times gone by. When I came out of the bathroom, Growl was gone, nor were his dogs. I lingered in the hallway, unsure of what to do or where to go. The walls were as grayish white as in my room and the dark wood floor had seen better days. The smell of coffee reached me and eventually drew me into a large kitchen. Growl was leaning against the kitchen counter, a cup of coffee in his hand and his dogs lying on blankets in the corner of the room. His gaze was turned to a message on his cell phone. There were no chairs or a table. Apparently, Growl preferred to eat standing up. He looked up and his eyes traveled the length of my body, lingering on my legs, hips and breasts. I forced myself to remain calm, to hide the nerves that the heat of his gaze was creating. He wore a tight white shirt that could not hide his muscles, nor the outlines of too many tattoos. My gaze shifted to the scar around his neck. “Here,” he said, pushing a cup of coffee at me. “Drink it.” “I prefer my coffee with milk,” I said. “No milk in the house. Black or nothing.” I took the cup, savoring its warmth, and gobbled down a few sips of the hot liquid. His attention had returned again to the cabinet on the kitchen table. “There are eggs in the fridge if you’re hungry.” I stared at him. “Are you serious?” I asked, placing the cup firmly on the table. “Yesterday Falcone gave me to you as a gift and now you pretend that this is normal, that we can behave normally with 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 stretched my neck to look at his face. I was trapped between him and the kitchen. He grabbed me by the waist and hoisted me onto the counter, then pressed himself between my legs, bringing our faces closer together. I held my breath, stunned by his sudden movement. My heart beat frantically against my rib cage, but I tried to hide my fear of him behind my hatred. His hand cradled the back of my neck, holding me still, and then his mouth rested on mine, his tongue slipping past my lips. I let out a sound of protest but it was swallowed by Growl’s mouth. I pulled my head back, gasping and glared at him. I hated him. I hated him for what he was, but worse for what he had made me feel. For a moment, I had let myself drown in the kiss because it had managed to make me forget everything, had helped me drown out the sadness, the fear and the worry. And in that brief instant, I had felt wonderful and good. So good, that my body had tingled and I had felt it in the tips of my fingers 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 disappeared and what remained was revulsion. “Don’t touch me, ” I hissed. “Never again.” He smiled humorlessly. “Why?” “Because it repulses me. You are a monster and I don’t want your hands on me, not when they are covered in blood.” Growling emotions , he had never quite understood them. Most people had too many and showed them even more willingly. Women especially seemed too indifferent to showing that part of themselves. Cara was no different. Hate, it was clear on her face. She hated it. They all hated it. She feared him. They all feared him. He was used to that kind of reaction toward him. He did not care . He was not an intelligent man; not nearly as intelligent as she was. He knew that, and perhaps that made him smarter than most of Falcone’s men. He knew his limitations, he felt them every day and accepted them, but he never let them stop him. But despite his lack of intelligence, he knew that Cara was not really a reward for him. That was not why she had been given to him. Sure, it was a reward, it was the greatest gift someone like him could hope for, it was more than someone so dark and dirty deserved, but that was not why Falcone had given her his gift. This was not a reward for him, it was a punishment for her and her father, and if there was a real thing, then he was a real punishment. Growl knew this, and perhaps he should have felt disgusted, he should have felt guilty, he should have rejected such a gift, but he was not that kind of man, and that was why Falcone had chosen wisely. It 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 boy, did it taste sweet with a hint of bitterness from the coffee. Sweeter than any woman he had kissed, but there hadn’t been many, and his last kiss had been a long time ago. He did not like kissing whores. Not because they took other men’s cocks in their mouths, although he was perfectly honest with himself, but mostly because it was too intimate. He had never understood the value of kissing, when sex and a blowjob brought quicker satisfaction, but from the first time he had seen Cara’s pink lips, he had wondered what it would be like to kiss her. At first it had been a ridiculous fantasy, one that would never come true, but then it had become a possibility. He stared at her furious face and the hard crease of her lips. He wanted to kiss her again, to 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 had met, the looks that every woman in society gave him. He took a step back.
Before anger could get the better of him like last time. He had no time for another visit to Lola. And if he was honest, he had been as satisfactory to her as usual.
Then take Cara. She is yours.
She was. But he could not imagine treating her the way he treated Lola. Not only 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 walked away from her and picked up the phone again . Falcone wanted to see him in the afternoon. Growl doubted that the man had any real work for him. Falcone wanted to hear the gruesome details of what Growl had done to Cara.
He cast a glance in her direction. She was still sitting on the counter where he had put her, but she had crossed her legs protectively and was watching him warily. Even so, she managed to look graceful and ladylike, and totally out of place in his house.
Perhaps Falcone had not only thought of Growl as punishment for Cara. Perhaps he also hoped to put Growl in his place, to show him that despite his years of service, he was still not worthy.