For a moment Growl seemed stunned by the request but then he went to his room and returned with a black t-shirt. He held it out to me with an almost hesitant expression. I stood and took the shirt from him, then pulled it over my head. It reached my knees but it was very comfortable. I could feel Growl’s eyes on me the entire time. If I wasn’t mistaken, there was wistfulness on his face. Why? What was he thinking?
His expression turned blank. I stifled a sigh and sank down on the sofa. Growl sat down beside me. Close enough that I could smell his musky scent mixed with sex but without touching me.
“Why don’t you buy kitchen furniture so we can eat there?” I asked when it became clear that he didn’t mind sitting in absolute silence. His head had to be an incredibly exciting place considering how much time he spent there.
“I never needed it. I don’t eat breakfast and I can drink coffee while standing. And we can sit in the living room,” Growl said, pointing at the table in front of us.
“I know, but it would be more cozy to sit in the kitchen than in front of a TV with a table that’s barely reaching our knees.”
Growl shrugged. “I don’t need much.”
That was true.
“Don’t you ever have guests?”
“I don’t have guests.”
“What about family?” I was treading risky ground but it was time to find out more about the man who controlled my body in a scary way.
“I don’t have a family.”
His words reminded me that my own family was at risk. I couldn’t imagine being without family. The mere thought stung in my chest. I would do anything to save the family I had left. I moved a bit closer to Growl and pressed my hand against his chest.
Growl peered at me, then at my hand. He seemed unsure how to react. I could see that he was uncomfortable, but he didn’t push me away.
“You never had a family?” I asked to distract myself from my worry over my own family and the way my own body was springing back to life just from touching Growl’s chest.
My fingers traced the many rigs on Growl’s chest, always finding new paths across his body. Tracing his muscles and scars was a good way to quiet my nervous mind. As long as my fingers remained in motion, my brain seemed to slow down a tad.
“I had a mother,” he said in a low voice.
My fingers froze over his collarbone, surprised by his words. I would have thought he’d avoid the topic. Did that mean he began to trust me?
My gaze went up to his face but he was looking up at the ceiling with an unreadable expression. He didn’t want me to see his eyes, and that only made me more curious to see them. “What happened to her?”
Silence reigned between us for a very long time and I began to worry that I’d messed up my chance to gain Growl’s trust, when he finally said, “She’s dead.”
“How?” I asked. Growl’s hand went up to his throat but he didn’t touch himself there. He seemed to avoid touching his throat altogether, not just the scar.
“The person who slit your throat killed her?” I risked a guess.
For a moment, Growl was silent, and he even seemed to have stopped breathing. “He did. He killed her right in front of me. Made me watch her bleed out. He cut her throat too. But first mine to punish her. He thought I’d die quickly, but my mother was dead within a minute and I kept living.” He sounded almost sorry, as if he wished he’d died that day.
My mouth became dry. “What about your father? Where was he?”
“He’s not dead.” Why wasn’t he answering my second question?
“I can’t believe anyone would do this to an innocent boy.” I traced the letters on his chest. These words, all the scary tattoos, everything began to make sense.
“I wasn’t innocent, not even back then.” His words rumbled in his chest, I could feel it against my palm.
“Why would you say that? How old were you back then?”
“Five.”
God, how could anyone hurt a five-year-old like that? People called Growl a monster, even I thought of him like that, but whoever had almost killed Growl as a small boy was so much worse. “Everyone’s innocent at that age. Nobody’s born bad. You were so small. Why didn’t you try to hunt the person down who did this to you? You’re not the small boy of the past, you have connections and power now. I’m sure Falcone wouldn’t have cared if you’d gone and avenged your mother.”
A short laugh vibrated in his chest. It made the little hairs on my arms stand on end. “Falcone would care.”