He’d never felt less worthy than in that moment. The dress she wore was perfection on her, as if it had been made for her. She was made for cocktail parties and elegant soirees. He was made for dingy pubs and dark-alley clubs.
Their paths would have never crossed if it weren’t for Falcone’s vengefulness. Cara’s suffering had led to the most precious thing in Growl’s life, and still he couldn’t regret it. He was selfish. He was glad he’d been given the chance to have someone like her.
He peered down at his watch. “We need to leave.”
Cara tapped a finger against the glass of his watch. “I wouldn’t have pegged you as the Rolex wearing kind,” she said curiously.
“I’m not. The watch belonged to Falcone and he gave it to me as a gift for a job well done.”
Cara’s expression became stone, eyes flashing. “Like me.” A bitter smile tugged at her perfect red lips. “But I’m not as valuable as that piece around your wrist.”
“You are worth more than anything I’ve ever owned or will ever own.”Cara
He meant it as a compliment but the words stung nonetheless. Being compared to a watch, even if you won in the end, wasn’t something I enjoyed. I knew he couldn’t grasp the effect his comparison had on me. He was trying to be kind to me, and that was still surprising me every day.
There was a moment of silence before Growl cleared his throat, a rough and deep sound. “We shouldn’t be late.”
I nodded. I didn’t care if we were late. Everything in me screamed at the mere idea of going to that party, but I had to keep my calm if I wanted to get through the evening without making a complete embarrassment out of myself.
Growl headed toward the door and unlocked it. Bandit and Coco accompanied us to the threshold and watched us close the door with accusing eyes.
I let my gaze wander over the neighborhood. An elderly black couple sat on their porch two houses down. I’d never seen them before and they looked too decent for this area. Perhaps they’d lived here all their lives and only in the last few years everything had become run down. Their heads turned our way as Growl and I strode toward his car. We were probably liked an apparition dressed in our finest evening wear. People around here usually had no occasions to get dressed up at all. Growl nodded at them and they nodded in turn but then quickly turned their heads away.
To my surprise Growl opened the door of his car for me and I climbed in, careful not to jam the hem of my dress in the door.
I gathered my hands in my lap and started rubbing them against each other when Growl pulled out of the driveway. My fingers were icy despite the mild weather. When rubbing didn’t help, I raised them to my face and blew warm air into my palms. Growl turned his eyes away from the street to look at me. “What are you doing?”
“Nothing,” I said quickly.
Growl grabbed one of my hands, startling me. “You’re cold,” he said surprised.
“It’s been like that all day. Probably nerves.” The moment the words left my mouth, I regretted them. I hadn’t wanted to admit that much to Growl.
“Nerves?” I was glad when he finally had no choice but to return his attention to the street. “Nobody will hurt you.”
I laughed humorlessly. Not physically perhaps. “That’s not what I’m worried about. I just don’t want to see Cosimo and the others.”
“Why?”
I often forgot how little Growl knew of the human nature. He reminded me of someone who’d grown up around animals and now had to figure out how human interactions worked.
“Because it reminds me of everything I’ve lost,” I admitted eventually.
Growl scowled at the street. “Did you love him?” His lips twisted at the word, as if it left a bitter taste in his mouth. “Did you love Cosimo?”
There was a hint of something hard and dark in his voice. And this time I caught the hidden emotion behind his coldness. Vulnerability and hurt. I shook my head. Love? I knew nothing of love. “No. I never wanted to marry him. I barely knew him. My parents chose him for me.” My father. But saying his name aloud was too much tonight. I wouldn’t arrive at that horrid party teary-eyed. I wouldn’t give any of them that satisfaction.
“Then why are you sad that you lost him and that he’s going to marry that girl?”
Was I sad? Not about having lost Cosimo. I couldn’t care less about him now after everything. I was sad though. But it was only a small part of the emotions that I felt. With every passing second, another, a darker, emotion grew stronger in me. Hate. And the bone-deep desire for revenge. “I’m not sad, not about losing him. If I’d only lost him…” I laughed. “God, that would be splendid. But I lost everything.”