Growl’s eyes flashed with uncertainty, then his gaze fell on the scene across the street. Resolve and fury took over his face. Relief flooded me. I knew that expression.

Growl crossed the street without looking left or right, and not caring that he was only dressed in boxers. I followed after him. The guy hadn’t noticed us yet and was insulting his girlfriend and alternately kicking and hitting her. Growl was like a bull as he rammed the man with his shoulder. The guy let out a cry and tumbled to the ground. He looked like he wanted to punch whoever had attacked him, but when he raised his head and realized it was Growl, he shied back.

I crouched beside the woman who was still sitting on the ground, pressing her hand over her mouth. Blood was dripping down her chin. “You’re okay now,” I murmured as I touched her shoulder. Her unfocused eyes settled on me. She didn’t say anything. I could smell alcohol on her breath. Her son came running toward us and hugged her around the neck. “Mom…Mommy.”

She ignored him, eyes only for Growl who was hitting and shaking her boyfriend, and saying something we couldn’t overhear.

“Don’t let him kill my Dave,” she said almost pleadingly.

I stared. After everything, she was worried about her abusive boyfriend?

“You should go to a women’s shelter with your son.”

The woman shook her head. “Dave isn’t a bad guy. Don’t let him hurt my Dave.”

I stood. Growl shoved the man toward his car. “Fuck off,” he growled, sounding as menacing as he looked. The man got into his car and drove off.

“You should really leave as long as he’s gone,” I told the woman. But her eyes followed the car with despair and longing, and I knew she wouldn’t leave. I ruffled the boy’s hair, and the gesture brought a smile to his face. That poor child.

I helped the woman and the boy inside their house, ignoring her constant questions about her boyfriend. Inside the house was crowded with empty beer bottles. It stank of smoke and alcohol, and then I decided that I needed to save the boy at least. I lifted him into my arms and carried him out again. The woman didn’t stop me. She was fumbling with her mobile, trying to call her abusive boyfriend.

Growl gave me a look but didn’t comment as I came out with the young boy. We walked across the street, and only when we entered Growl’s house did he say, “You can’t keep him.”

“I won’t. We have to call child services. We have to do something.”

“You can’t save them all.”

“But I can save him, and that’s enough,” I said firmly. The boy was looking at Bandit and Coco curiously.

Growl glanced between me and the small boy, and nodded. “I know someone I can call. They will find a good place for him.” The boy reached out and touched one of Growl’s tattoos in fascination. Growl’s expression softened a tad, and then he headed off toward the phone as if he was scared of his own reaction. There was hope for him after all.

An hour later, two women came and picked the boy up. That evening I heard his parents screaming at each other again, but they didn’t come to ask for him.

***

When I lay next to Growl after sex that night, I whispered, “You did the right thing today.”

He had. Perhaps I was wrong; perhaps he could make up for his sins by doing good.

Growl turned to me. “Maybe But that woman is still with the asshole. Some people know nothing but misery. It’s something reliable. Change scares them more than their shitty life.”

I traced the inked thorns over his forearm. “Like you.”

Growl narrowed his eyes. “I’m changing my life for you by going against Falcone.”

“I know, and I’m grateful for that. But you’re doing it for me. It’s like you still don’t think you deserve anything good,” I said. “You live in this place, even though you don’t have to. I can’t imagine Falcone is paying you that badly. You are like that woman—scared of change.”

He sat up. “Living in this house isn’t like being beaten up by someone.” He hesitated. “Is it that bad for you?”

I sighed. “This place makes me miserable.”

“You mean I make you miserable.”

“No,” I said, and I wasn’t sure if it was the truth or still part of my plan to make him trust me. “This place. The people are hopeless and ignorant, and there’s no beauty here, only desolation.”

Growl looked around the room. “Beauty is fleeting.”

“And desolation and despair aren’t?” I sat up as well, and leaned my chin on his shoulder, breathing in his musky scent. I didn’t want him to leave, but I could tell that he was already growing restless.

“It’s familiar. It’s reliable,” Growl murmured. “I always liked that.” And I had messed things up for him, changed up his routine. A creature of habit, indeed. And yet, he was giving it up for me.

For a while there was silence, then he slowly withdrew, and I had no choice but to let go of him. He perched on the edge of the bed as if part of him wanted to stay, but then he got up. “Sleep tight.”

“I would sleep better if you stayed,” I said.

Growl hesitated, shoulders tensing, breathing deeply, but then he strode out without a word. Every time I thought we were getting somewhere, he did something to remind me that we couldn’t. Perhaps at some point my heart would accept it too.

***

We drove toward the Las Vegas strip with its skyscrapers. Everything was bright and the people were enjoying themselves. This was a far cry from the neighborhood where Growl lived. We stopped in front of a tall, sleek skyscraper with bellboys in front of the sliding doors. Growl got out before the man could open his door, so he helped me out of the car instead. It felt strange to be surrounded by this luxury again. I almost felt like I didn’t belong, as if the last couple of weeks had changed me so much already that I couldn’t possibly fit into the world I’d been part of all my life. It was a scary thought.

Growl led me inside the building with a hand on my back. It was a possessive gesture, and at the same time I thought he was trying to show me something else. Or was I trying to see things Growl wasn’t capable of? The receptionist gave us a too-bright smile as we headed for the elevators.

We got out at the very top of the skyscraper and stepped into a massive penthouse. Everything was white and glass and gold. “What is this?” I asked. It was furnished with black and gray furniture. Everything was sleek and perfect.

“My apartment,” Growl said simply.

I froze on my way toward the floor-to-ceiling windows. “This is yours?” This apartment looked completely unused. And in the six weeks that I’d been with him, he’d never mentioned it to me. I startled. Had it really been six weeks? God. And at the same time, six weeks seemed way too short a time span for everything that had happened.

Six weeks. Without my sister. She was fine, Growl had assured me. And my mother—I hadn’t seen her in so long.

“I got it a few years back,” Growl said, tearing me from my thoughts. “Falcone gave it to me as payment for a job well done, but I don’t use it.”

“If you have this,” I motioned around myself, “then why are you living in that awful house? This place doesn’t look like you’ve ever set foot in it. There’s nothing that belongs to you.”