Bound by Vengeance Page 17
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. I’d never quite understood them. Most people had too many, and showed them too willingly. Women especially seemed too unconcerned about showing that part of themselves. Cara was no different. Hate—it had been plain on her face.
She hated me.
Everyone did.
She feared me.
Everyone did.
I was used to that kind of reaction. I didn’t care.
I wasn’t a smart man, not even close to being as smart as her. I knew it, and maybe that made me smarter than most of Falcone’s men. I knew my limitations, felt them every day and accepted them, but never let them stop me. But despite my lack of smarts, I knew that Cara wasn’t really a reward for me. That wasn’t why she’d been given to me. Of course, she was a reward, was the greatest gift someone like me could hope for, was more than someone as dark and dirty as me deserved, but that wasn’t why Falcone had made her my gift.
This wasn’t a reward for me, it was a punishment for her and her father. And of course, I was a true punishment. I knew that, and maybe I should have felt insulted, should have felt guilty, should have refused a gift like that, but I wasn’t that kind of man, and that was why Falcone had chosen wisely.
I was the punishment no one deserved, least of all her. But now that I had her, Cara, my gift, I would never let her go. The kiss, it had given me 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 I’d kissed, but there hadn’t been many and my last kiss was a long time ago. I didn’t like to kiss the whores. Not because they took other men’s cocks into their mouths, though that bothered me, too, if I was perfectly honest with myself, but mostly because it was too intimate. I’d never understood the value of kissing, when sex and a blow job brought quicker satisfaction, but since the first time I’d seen Cara’s pink lips, I’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.
I stared down at her furious face, and the hard set of her lips. I wanted to kiss her again, taste her again, but I had learned to control my desires. The way she looked at me now reminded me of the first time we’d met, of the looks every woman in society gave me. I stepped back before my anger could get the better of me like it had last time. I didn’t have time for another visit with Lola. And if I was being honest, it hadn’t been as satisfying with her as usual.
I could take Cara. I wanted her. She was mine.
She was mine.
But I couldn’t imagine treating her like I treated Lola. Not just because Cara wouldn’t react the way I wanted, but also because I didn’t like the idea of doing that to her. She was too precious. She was a present I was reluctant to unwrap.
I backed away from her and took up my phone again. Falcone wanted to see me in the afternoon. I doubted the man had a real job for me. He wanted to hear gruesome details of what I had done to Cara.
I glanced her way. She still sat on the counter where I’d put her, but she’d crossed her legs protectively and was watching me cautiously. Even like that, she managed to look graceful and ladylike, and absolutely out of place in my house.
Perhaps Falcone hadn’t just meant to use me as a punishment for Cara. Perhaps he’d also hoped to put me in my place, to show me that despite my years of service, I still wasn’t worthy.
CHAPTER TEN
Cara
My lips were still tingling from his kiss despite my 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 been resting in the corner of the kitchen.
The only dog I’d had close contact with 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, on the other hand, were monstrous in size and most likely character—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 were watching me, they would probably follow me anyway. My heartbeat quickened 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 I didn’t trust him 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 up 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 as he froze with his arm in midair, and the lack of understanding on his face grew even stronger.
“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 have 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,” was all he said. 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. Although, to call 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.”