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

by Cora Reilly

  “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, s
hould 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.

  CHAPTER TEN

  Cara

  My lips were still tingling from his kiss despite the disgust and anger toward Growl. He backed away slowly, with an expression I could not decipher. I hopped off the counter, wanting to get out of this compromising situation, and froze with fear when both dogs jumped up from where they’d rested in the corner of the kitchen.

  The only dog I’d had closer contact to over the years had been Anastasia’s Chihuahua that she’d bought after it became an essential fashion item according to the magazines she perused. But that dog had been the size of a guinea pig with teeth barely strong enough to scratch one’s skin. These dogs however were monstrous in size and most likely character, just like their master. I sucked in my breath and backed up against the counter again. There was nowhere else I could go, and the way they watched me they would probably follow me anyway. My heartbeat fastened and I seized up completely.

  The dogs didn’t move either but they looked tense as if they were ready to lunge at me if I moved the wrong way. Growl gave me a look that made it clear he thought I’d lost my mind, but he obviously wasn’t someone I trusted when it came to judging the danger and monstrosity of his dogs.

  “If you act scared, you’ll make them suspicious,” he said like I was a child.

  I glared at him. His words only worsened my fear and made me tense even more. Growl set down his coffee again and watched me like he was trying to figure something out. My own eyes darted between him and his dogs.

  Growl stalked toward me, his arm coming my way. I flinched away, expecting a punch. He looked frustrated.

  He froze with his arm in midair and the lack of understanding on his face grew even more.

  “What are you doing?” he rumbled, slowly lowering his muscled arm. There were more scratches on his upper arm I noticed now. I was pretty sure they couldn’t all come from me. A red dot began spreading on his bandages slowly, and I grimaced. Growl lowered his gaze to his injured forearm and blew out a breath. “You are a lot of trouble,” he said merely. He raised his eyes to mine. I couldn’t read his expression.

  “Maybe you should go see a doctor,” I said instead of the nasty comeback I had in mind. So far Growl had been more civil than I’d thought possible and I couldn’t risk provoking him into a change of mood.

  “I don’t need doctors. I stitched the wound up myself. I’ve done it before. But you cut me pretty deep and I shouldn’t move the arm so much.”

  I’d thought I’d barely left a mark on him with the knife from his reaction yesterday, but he was probably too careful to show the extent of his injury during a fight. Though calling the short struggle between us a fight was laughable.

  “Why did you shy back?” he asked. I’d hoped he’d forgotten about my reaction to his approach.

  I shrugged and turned my attention back to the dogs watching us. They still hadn’t moved from their spots at the end of the kitchen, except that the black one had sat down. “I thought you were going to hit me,” I said eventually.

  Silence followed, until I couldn’t stand it anymore and lifted my gaze to find Growl staring at me with blatant confusion.

  “Oh come on,” I muttered, growing angry, despite my best intentions not to provoke him, but his shock was ridiculous. “Don’t act like that’s impossible. I saw you yesterday. I saw you kill a man with your bare hands by twisting his neck.”

  “Where were you? I didn’t see you anywhere.”

  “In the cupboard.”

  Growl nodded. “He was the enemy.”

  “And I’m not?”

  For some reason he seemed closer than before, and his scent finally registered with me. Not of sweat and blood and death like last night but fresh and musky. It seemed too normal for someone like him.

  “No. Enemies need eliminating because they mean danger, and often death. You don’t.”

  “I tried to kill you last night,” I said indignantly.

  He didn’t say anything, and that was worse than an insult.

  I crossed my arms. I was starting to tire of this conversation, of the situation, of everything. I closed my eyes but the moment I did, images from last night came back up and I quickly opened them again.

  I really wished Growl would stop watching me with that intent expression. He looked like an explorer who’d discovered a new species. “What’s going to happen now?” I asked quietly.

  “I have work to do and you’ll stay here and watch TV.”

  I laughed. Had he misunderstood me on purpose? “That’s not what I meant. Will you keep me locked up here until I die or you grow tired of me?”

  “I haven’t given it much thought yet. I didn’t know Falcone would give you to me or I would have made plans,” he said.

  Plans for my captivity, how considerate. “So what now?” Everything seemed so meaningless. My life had never been free. There had been rules and expectations, but now I had no choices at all.

  “I will go to work and you will stay here.”

  I gave up. Either he couldn’t or he didn’t want to understand me. “Will you take them with you?” I nodded toward the dogs.

  Growl shook his head. “They will stay here with you.”

  “Are you sure they won’t tear me apart?”

  Growl turned to his dogs. “Coco, Bandit.”

  They didn’t hesitate. Within seconds they were by Growl’s side and looked up at him in something that I could only describe as adoration. “They are well-trained,” he explained. “You can come closer.”

  I nodded, but didn’t move from my spot against the kitchen counter. The way they were panting I got a good look at the size of their teeth.

  He frowned. “You’ll have to get used to them. You’ll spend a lot of time with them in the future, and I won’t always b
e around to help you.”

  The idea of him being helpful to me was ludicrous. I certainly wasn’t eager for his presence.

  “If you want to touch them, you should always give them the chance to smell you first. At least, until they know you better. They are distrustful dogs. Most people haven’t given them much reason to be trustful.” He held his hand in front of Coco’s, then Bandit’s nose before he patted their heads. “If they move back, let them. Don’t try to pet them if they don’t want you to.”

  How was I supposed to know when they wanted to be petted? Not that I had any intention of touching them without good reason, or without Growl close-by. They scared me. I couldn’t help it. They looked like they knew how to tear things into shreds. Their many scars spoke of their hard past.

  “They are fighting dogs, right?”

  Growl nodded. “They both fought in many fights. They won most of them.”

  “I bet you won a lot of money with them then,” I muttered, hoping he could hear my disgust. Why would people enjoy watching dogs tear each other apart? But I’d never understood the appeal of boxing matches either; the boxers, at least, chose to fight of their own free will.

  He patted Coco and Bandit once more before he turned his full attention to me. “I never sent them into fights. I bought them when they were getting too old to win.” His voice was gentler when he talked about his dogs, even though it still held the hard edge of a growl due to his injured vocal cords.

  “Why?”

  “Because they would have been killed and after what they went through, they deserve to live in peace for the rest of their lives.”

  Was there actually a flicker of kindness in this man? It seemed unlikely, but the way he took care of his dogs I couldn’t deny the possibility. Maybe he felt a connection with the dogs because they’d been forced into a life of violence. There wasn’t much known from Growl’s past but nobody was born like that, nobody was born evil. Perhaps he too had been forced into this life. Perhaps he’d never experienced a normal life. It didn’t justify his actions but it was an explanation that helped me understand him better, and understanding was always the first step to a solution. If I wanted to get out of my horrible situation, I’d first have to find out more about my captor, even if that meant actually spending time with him.