Chapter 16: Bound By Vengeance: Chapter 15

I decided to not push Growl further regarding to Falcone and what happened. I had a feeling that he would close up completely if I tried too soon again. At least he didn’t seem too angry about my questions to stop sleeping with me.

When we lay next to each other in my bed after Growl had driven me to three orgasms, my mind was racing for a way to make him stay with me. He usually always left directly after we were done, giving me no chance to get to know him better. We didn’t even touch afterward. Or hadn’t so far at least.

Now Growl’s arm was lightly brushing mine. It wasn’t by accident. Perhaps deep down he longed for closeness beyond just sex?

His eyes were half closed and his breathing was already slowing. His muscled chest glistened with sweat. “What happened to my father after you took me to your house?” I asked.

Growl opened his eyes. “He was dead.”

“I know,” I whispered harshly. “That’s not what I meant. Where is his body? What did you do with it?”

Growl turned his head toward me, frowning. “What does it matter? He’s gone.”

“People bury their dead for a reason. Because they need a place to feel connected to them, a place where they can go to say goodbye or talk to what remains of the people they love. It’s what people do.”

Growl didn’t seem to understand. “Maybe. I can’t see how that helps.”

“You don’t have to understand,” I said quietly. “Just accept it. I really need to know where my father’s body is. I need to say goodbye to him to get peace.”

“He was buried outside the city borders.”

“Buried? So he wasn’t dumped somewhere or worse?”

“I wasn’t there when they buried him. But it’s what they told me.”

“Do you know where it is? Can you take me?”

Growl let out a sigh. He sat up like I’d expected and swung his legs out of bed, turning his back to me. That, too, was covered with tattoos, thorns and roses, skulls and snakes, and intricate black letters that read ‘Pain’, nothing else. There were more scars on his back, shoulders and neck.

“You have to move on.”

I stifled my frustration. He simply couldn’t understand. So many human emotions and habits were foreign to him. I pushed into a sitting position and scooted closer. I hoped it was a good sign that he hadn’t gotten up yet. Perhaps something in him wanted to say with me?

My fingertips grazed the strange round scars that littered his back and upper arms. They didn’t look like shot wounds, more like someone had burned Growl. After a moment of hesitation, I asked quietly. “What are those?”

Growl peered over his shoulder. “Cigarette burns.”

My fingers froze. He sounded so detached, as if we weren’t talking about his body. “Who did this to you?”

“Perhaps I asked someone to do it to me,” he said.

“Why would anyone ask for pain?”

“I like pain. Learned to like it over time.”

“You like it?” I repeated, dropping my hand from his skin. Did he ask someone to burn him? Was he that messed up? The idea didn’t sit well with me. Someone who did this to themselves would probably do much worse to others. Though why that surprised me was ridiculous. I knew what kind of man Growl was. More monster than man.

A corner of his mouth twitched in an almost smile. That small gesture managed to change his entire face, making him seem more approachable, less dangerous. But the usual hard line returned to his lips too quickly. “Not getting burned. I didn’t ask for those scars,” he said roughly. “When I was a kid, I wasn’t into pain yet.”

My eyes trailed over the many burn marks, counting almost a dozen. “Someone did this to you when you were a kid?” I paused, unsure about the next question. “Your mother?” That would at least explain why Growl didn’t want to avenge her.

Growl shook his head. “She wasn’t the best mother. She worked as a whore. Her addiction and job didn’t really help with raising a kid, but she never beat me or hurt me physically.”

I licked my lips. This was dangerous territory I was treading. My curiosity made me eager for more, but at the same time I was equally scared of the horrors I’d hear and what they would make me feel. With every piece of Growl’s past and his character that I uncovered it became more difficult to not feel compassion, and more. “Then who did?” I asked despite my worries.

“After my mother died and I was released from hospital, Falcone gave me to one of his henchman, Bud, who was responsible for one of the brothels. He was a pimp, really, and didn’t want a kid around. But he couldn’t give me away if he wanted to get in Falcone’s good graces, and so he kept me. But he was a sadistic bastard and when he grew tired of beating the shit out of his whores he liked to torture me.”

“Why didn’t Falcone stop him?” I shook my head. “I don’t know why I’m even asking. The guy almost killed you. It’s not like he’s a decent human being, or anything close to that.”

“He didn’t kill me, though he could have. And he never actually touched me. He let one of his men cut my throat. And Bud always made sure that he beat and burnt me where nobody could see it.”

“So you think Falcone didn’t know what was going on?”

“The whores knew and they liked me. They could have told him about it.”

“But he didn’t do anything,” I concluded.

Growl shrugged. “The beatings made me stronger. After a while, you don’t experience pain like other people do. It becomes familiar, almost like a friend. You stop fearing it, and even like it.”

That explained the tattoo on his back.

I moved so I could see his face and was stunned by the almost serene expression on his face. I hoped it was a perfect mask because if he was really this calm about the whole thing, there was little hope for him. When his eyes met mine, I saw a flicker, a crack in the perfect mask he’d built over time and almost exhaled in relief. I put my chin down on his shoulder, bringing my face closer to his. “There are other things that make people strong, not just pain. It’s horrible what happened to you. Someone should have protected you. All the people who stood by while you were tortured, they should rot in hell.”

“You shouldn’t care,” Growl murmured.

“I know.” I didn’t say more. Did I really care? The man in front of me today didn’t deserve my pity or help. He wasn’t the helpless boy from long ago anymore. And yet part of me felt for him. I couldn’t help it.

For several heartbeats we stared at each other and unspoken words seemed to hang in the air between us. I was so close to breaking down Growl’s walls, so close to gaining his trust.

“Bud’s dead now. Got what he deserved,” Growl said eventually.

It took me a moment to free myself from the strange connection I’d felt before. “Did you kill him?”

It was scary how easily the words left my lips and how little impact they had on my conscience.

“When I was ten,” Growl said with a hint of pride in his deep voice. Perhaps that should have made me uneasy and maybe it would have, even though Bud had deserved to die, if the idea of getting deadly revenge on Falcone hadn’t dominated my thoughts in the last couple of weeks.

“He’d beaten the shit out of a whore but that didn’t really do anything for him. Falcone hadn’t given him the second brothel Bud wanted and he wanted to let off steam. When he came into my room, I knew he was out for blood. And I let him. He kicked me and beat me, and I let him but then I decided it was enough, and I fought back. I always had a Swiss knife in my pocket and when he made a pause to light a cigarette and turned away from me, I slashed his hamstring in one clean cut.”

My eyes grew wide.

“He screamed like a pig in the slaughterhouse. Didn’t lose his balance like I’d hoped. Tried to kick me again, so I stabbed him in the upper thigh. Sliced his artery by chance. He bled out quickly. And I watched. I was still watching with the knife in my hand when one of the whores found me and ran away screaming. And I still stood there when Falcone arrived some time later. I was covered in blood from head to toe. Had stabbed the dead bastard a few more times to release some steam.”

The images flashed up in my mind and with the blood came more images, images of my father and how he’d died. But I couldn’t allow myself to dwell on that memory. It wouldn’t help me, nor my mother or sister. “What did Falcone do? You killed one of his men. Shouldn’t he have killed you?”

“No, he decided it was time to take me under his wings and show me what else I was capable of.”

“To kill and maim and torture,” I said quietly.

Growl’s eyes were almost resigned. “That’s all I can do. If there was ever more in me, it didn’t survive.”

He’d said similar words before. And I started to realize that he might be right.

“So Falcone taught you how to kill? When did you become his assassin?”

Growl thought about it for a moment. “I killed the second man a few months after I killed Bud. Falcone had told me the name of the guy who’d cut my throat and where I could find him.”

“So he wanted you to kill the guy?”

“He didn’t say it but I went and killed him. Falcone told me that this was his gift to me and that I was never going to kill without his explicit permission again, and I never did.”

“So you got revenge on the man who burned you and the man who cut your throat, but not the man who is the reason why it happened?”

Growl was silent.

“He is the reason why you have this.” I reached out to touch the scar on his throat, curious how it would feel but Growl’s hand shot out and his fingers curled around my wrist.

“Don’t,” he said quietly, warningly. His eyes were haunted as they fixed on me.

I wound out of his grip and put my hand back into my lap. “Why? It’s not like I haven’t touched your other scars.” And every inch of your body.

“Don’t,” he repeated in a voice that made me shiver. “Nobody is allowed.”

More questions lingered on the tip of my tongue but Growl didn’t give me a chance to voice any of them. He untangled himself from the blankets and got to his feet. “You should sleep.” He walked out without looking back. Sighing, I lied back down. I didn’t bother putting my nightgown back on. I was exhausted. Always exhausted. Worry kept me awake too many nights. I strained my ears, listening for Growl, and as usual I heard the creak of the backdoor and a few barks of the dogs before they fell silent again. Growl was a creature of habit. Maybe that was why the dogs were loyal to him. He gave them a hint of normalcy. I shook my head in the darkness. Normalcy. My life had always been a good cry away from normal, but now?

Growl was more detached in the days that followed. I’d thought we’d finally made a true connection during our last conversation but now he was pulling away again. He didn’t want me close. And I wasn’t sure how to change that. If he didn’t trust me, how could I suggest that he’d help my mother and sister? What if he told Falcone everything? Then everything would be over. And yet part of me was sure that he wouldn’t tell Falcone anything they talked about. Growl kept things to himself. He was that kind of guy.

He didn’t even come to my bed at night anymore. He was really trying to stay away from me. Was he worried I’d get too close? Was that even a possibility with him?

“Falcone agreed to let you visit your mother,” Growl said out of the blue while we were having coffee in silence one morning.

I almost dropped my cup. “Really? Why? Why now?”

“Apparently your mother is depressed and Falcone thinks that’s why the negotiations with New York are going badly. I told him it would be good for your mother to see you were alright, so she had something to fight for.”

I set down the cup on the counter and bridged the distance between us. I wrapped my arms around his middle and hugged him tightly, my cheeks pressed up against his chest. He tensed, then relaxed. We’d slept with each other several times, but this was the first we actually hugged. I realized he never kissed or touched me if it wasn’t meant to lead to sex.

“Thanks,” I said, then pulled away and took a few steps back.

He was watching me with an odd expression. Was there longing in his eyes?

God, why did he have to be so difficult to read?

“I will take you to her now on my way to work,” Growl said.

I couldn’t wait to see her again, but at the same time I was terrified of facing her after what I’d done in the last few weeks. I’d been sleeping with Growl, and not because he’d forced me, not even just because I hoped to gain his trust. I enjoyed it. There was no denying it. If my mother knew, she’d never look at me again.

Pulling up in front of my old home felt strange. It didn’t feel like home anymore. Falcone and his men had ruined the place for me. My memory of the place I’d grown up in would forever be tainted with the blood and death of my father.

“I thought you’d be happy,” Growl said as he led me to the front door.

I’d thought I’d be happy, but I felt guilty and miserable and scared. I forced a smile, worried Growl might decide it was better not to let me visit my mother, if it made me sad. That was the last thing I wanted even if setting foot into my old home made my stomach turn. “I am happy, just nervous.”

Growl looked doubtful but he rang the bell anyway. It took a long time until finally one of our old bodyguards, Daryl, opened the door. So he was guarding my mother? Had he always been Falcone’s spy? Probably. There was no loyalty in this world. Even my father had betrayed his boss for whatever reasons. Not that I didn’t understand him.

He stepped back, an expression of caution on his face as he watched Growl. I felt a sick satisfaction at his discomfort. I wasn’t scared of Growl anymore.

Daryl gave me a nod but I ignored him and quickly walked past him into the lobby. It was quiet in the house. Such a vast difference to the last time I’d been here.

“Cara?” came Mother’s meek voice from the living room. I rushed off toward my mother and found her sitting at the dining room table, which was set for lunch. I hesitated in the middle of the room. My mother had lost weight. Her cheeks were sunken in, her cheekbones protruding. She wore no make-up. She always had. And her dress was crinkled as if she couldn’t be bothered ironing it. Mother would have never worn a dress that hadn’t been ironed. She’d changed. I had changed. It was ridiculous to think that my mother or sister wouldn’t. God, Talia. How was she doing?

My mother rose from the chair and opened her arms. I didn’t hesitate. I flew into my mother’s arms. It felt good to embrace her, to smell her comforting scent. Mother buried her face in my hair and took a deep breath. I closed my eyes, allowing myself a few moments of peace.

“I need to leave now.”

Growl’s voice sliced through the quiet. My mother and I stepped apart. Mother glared at Growl with disgust and fear.

I nodded. “Ok.”

“I will pick you up in two to three hours.” There was a hint of warning in his voice. I didn’t say anything. I wanted him gone, worried that Mother might notice something strange between us. I almost sighed in relief when he’d left.

Daryl was still in the room though.

“Can you give my daughter and me some privacy?” Mother asked politely. She looked controlled now.

Daryl looked torn. “I’m outside the door. Remember there are cameras.”

Mother tilted her head, looking dignified, but the moment he closed the door, she grabbed the edge of the table and sank down on the chair. I pulled a chair up to Mother and grabbed her hand.

My mother searched my face, then checked my arms as if she was looking for bruises. “I’d thought I wouldn’t see you again. I was sure that monster would kill you.”

“Growl?” I said. “He didn’t hurt me.”

Mother shook her head. “Don’t lie to me. I know this world. I know the rules. I know more than I’ve let on in the past because I wanted to protect you and your sister.” She let out a sad laugh. “I failed.”

“You didn’t fail. What could you have done? They were armed. We had no chance against them.”

Mother touched my cheek, looking hopeless. “I wish I was stronger. I know I should ask what has happened to you but I’m not sure I can bear the truth. You are so much stronger than I am, Cara. That you are here, looking healthy and unbroken, I can’t fathom how that is even possible.”

I smiled shakily. “I’m really fine, Mother. Please don’t worry about me.”

Mother closed her eyes and shook her head. “I don’t know how you can even talk to me after what I did.”

“What did you do?”

“I’m working for Falcone, helping him. After he gave you to that monster, I shouldn’t help him, no matter what he threatens me with. If your father knew, he’d be disappointed. He wouldn’t even look at me now.”

“Father is the reason why this happened. He is the reason why we went through hell. It was his punishment that we had to bear. If he were alive, he wouldn’t have any right to judge you. He would have to apologize to us for being so selfish, and not thinking about the consequences!” It burst out of me. So far I hadn’t allowed myself to be angry, but now I realized I was. I was furious because Father should have known better. It was his job to protect us and he’d failed.

Mother watched me with widened eyes, uncomprehending. “Don’t talk about your father like that. He was the best husband I could have imagined and an even better father. He deserves nothing but our respect.”

That was a lie. Father hadn’t been the worst Father but he had been a far cry from a good father. He’d been too busy with his work, and often too impatient to spend time with his two chatty daughters. I’d loved him, and I missed him. I wished he were still alive and I’d forgiven him for what he’d done because he surely couldn’t have fathomed to what it would lead.

“I don’t want to fight,” I said quietly, squeezing Mother’s hand. “I know you’re grieving but eventually you’ll realize that Father did this to us.”

Mother stared. She didn’t protest again, but I could tell that she wasn’t ready to admit Father’s faults yet. His death was still too raw.

I decided to change the topic. “I know what you’re doing, that you’re talking to New York on Falcone’s behalf.”

“How?” Mother whispered.

“Growl told me. But that’s not important. Are you making progress?”

Mother shook her head. “I haven’t even talked to Luca Vitiello yet. It’s difficult to get through to him. New York doesn’t want anything to do with us.” Mother touched her forehead. “I can’t fail. If I do, Falcone will hurt your sister. I don’t know what to do.”

“Keep trying. There has to be a way to get through to Luca Vitiello. I’m sure.”

Mother nodded. “Perhaps. I sent his wife a letter. I hear she’s kind. She might be our last chance.”

“Don’t give up. We’ll figure something out,” I said firmly, trying to convey with my eyes that I was working on a plan.

Mother’s brows drew together but she didn’t ask what I meant. She was a clever woman. We had to be careful what we said aloud.

She pointed at the sandwiches piled up on the étagère. “I made them myself. Something to keep me busy. And I miss cooking for all of you.”

I grabbed a salmon sandwich and took a bite, then smiled. “It’s delicious.”

Mother leaned back in her chair and watched me eat another sandwich. I swallowed the last bite, then asked, “I’ve been wondering, why did you even leave New York and your family? You were part of the leading family after all. You could have led a great life there.”

Mother looked tired. “I was. But my brother was the Capo and he was as bad as Falcone. Of course, back then I didn’t know how badly Falcone ruled in Las Vegas or perhaps I would have stayed in New York.” Then she smiled sadly and shook her head. “Though I was head over heels in love with your father and would have followed him anywhere.”

I touched her hand. “How did you two even meet if Father was one of Falcone’s men? New York and Las Vegas hated each other back then too, didn’t they?”

Mother nodded. “Oh yes, they did. But Falcone had only just been made boss and his father still had some say in the city. And the old man wanted to try to make peace with New York, so they sent your father because he always knew how to be diplomatic. Falcone would have ruined everything if he’d tried to do the negotiations himself.”

“But they didn’t make a peace treaty, did they?”

“No. Salvatore and Falcone were too alike. They both wanted to have the last say, so nothing came of your father’s visit in New York.”

“You two fell in love.”

“Yes, yes. In the three weeks that he was in town, he completely captured my heart. I begged my parents to let me marry him but of course they refused and Salvatore was furious that I’d even suggested such a horrible thing. He chose someone else for me, but I wanted nobody but Brando and so your Father took me with him, and told Salvatore that he’d done it as revenge for the insults Salvatore had said about Falcone. I’m not sure if Falcone believed the story but he was happy to taunt Salvatore like that, and so your father and I married two days after we’d left New York. The party was the story in every newspaper in Las Vegas and beyond, and from that point on any kind of peace was out of the question. So Falcone got exactly what he wanted, and so did your father and I. It seemed like the perfect solution at the time.”

“Do you think the head of the Familia, that Luca, would allow us to stay in New York?” I asked in a bare whisper.

Mother touched my cheek. “I don’t know. I only saw him and his brother once when they were small boys.”

“You visited them, but I thought that was forbidden?”

“Oh, it was. But Salvatore’s wife and I really liked each other. I always felt sorry for her because she had to marry my sadistic brother. And once, when I was pregnant with you, I was in Aspen at the same time as Salvatore’s wife. She was there with the kids and so we met in secret. We’d been talking on the phone regularly but that was the first time we met since I’d run off. It was wonderful. And the boys were real cuties, though it was unmistakable that my brother was their father. They were too controlled and serious for boys that young. Especially Luca gave me the chills sometimes.”

“Perhaps he will remember you soon and help us. It’s our best chance.”

“It is,” she agreed, then her expression turned almost frightened. “Do you know where they took your father’s body? I can’t bear the thought that Falcone gave him to his dogs as food. It breaks my heart. He doesn’t deserve that.”

I patted her arm. “Growl told me that someone buried Father in the desert. They didn’t feed him to the dogs.”

Mother’s shoulders sagged in relief.

But suddenly I wondered if Growl had told me the truth. There was no way I could know. I had to trust his word.

When we heard Growl’s car pull up in the driveway, Mother pulled me against her body and whispered in my ear, “You are such a good girl. I don’t know how I deserve you. Be strong, sweetheart. Don’t let that monster break you.”

“I won’t,” I promised automatically. She watched me with love and pity, and I had to look away. If she knew, what I’d done and what I was doing…I could never tell her.