Bound by Vengeance (Born in Blood Mafia Chronicles #5)(23)
I crossed my arms. I was starting to tire of this conversation, of the situation, of everything. I closed my eyes but the moment I did, images from last night came back up and I quickly opened them again.
I really wished Growl would stop watching me with that intent expression. He looked like an explorer who’d discovered a new species. “What’s going to happen now?” I asked quietly.
“I have work to do and you’ll stay here and watch TV.”
I laughed. Had he misunderstood me on purpose? “That’s not what I meant. Will you keep me locked up here until I die or you grow tired of me?”
“I haven’t given it much thought yet. I didn’t know Falcone would give you to me or I would have made plans,” he said.
Plans for my captivity, how considerate. “So what now?” Everything seemed so meaningless. My life had never been free. There had been rules and expectations, but now I had no choices at all.
“I will go to work and you will stay here.”
I gave up. Either he couldn’t or he didn’t want to understand me. “Will you take them with you?” I nodded toward the dogs.
Growl shook his head. “They will stay here with you.”
“Are you sure they won’t tear me apart?”
Growl turned to his dogs. “Coco, Bandit.”
They didn’t hesitate. Within seconds they were by Growl’s side and looked up at him in something that I could only describe as adoration. “They are well-trained,” he explained. “You can come closer.”
I nodded, but didn’t move from my spot against the kitchen counter. The way they were panting I got a good look at the size of their teeth.
He frowned. “You’ll have to get used to them. You’ll spend a lot of time with them in the future, and I won’t always be around to help you.”
The idea of him being helpful to me was ludicrous. I certainly wasn’t eager for his presence.
“If you want to touch them, you should always give them the chance to smell you first. At least, until they know you better. They are distrustful dogs. Most people haven’t given them much reason to be trustful.” He held his hand in front of Coco’s, then Bandit’s nose before he patted their heads. “If they move back, let them. Don’t try to pet them if they don’t want you to.”
How was I supposed to know when they wanted to be petted? Not that I had any intention of touching them without good reason, or without Growl close-by. They scared me. I couldn’t help it. They looked like they knew how to tear things into shreds. Their many scars spoke of their hard past.
“They are fighting dogs, right?”
Growl nodded. “They both fought in many fights. They won most of them.”
“I bet you won a lot of money with them then,” I muttered, hoping he could hear my disgust. Why would people enjoy watching dogs tear each other apart? But I’d never understood the appeal of boxing matches either; the boxers, at least, chose to fight of their own free will.
He patted Coco and Bandit once more before he turned his full attention to me. “I never sent them into fights. I bought them when they were getting too old to win.” His voice was gentler when he talked about his dogs, even though it still held the hard edge of a growl due to his injured vocal cords.
“Why?”
“Because they would have been killed and after what they went through, they deserve to live in peace for the rest of their lives.”
Was there actually a flicker of kindness in this man? It seemed unlikely, but the way he took care of his dogs I couldn’t deny the possibility. Maybe he felt a connection with the dogs because they’d been forced into a life of violence. There wasn’t much known from Growl’s past but nobody was born like that, nobody was born evil. Perhaps he too had been forced into this life. Perhaps he’d never experienced a normal life. It didn’t justify his actions but it was an explanation that helped me understand him better, and understanding was always the first step to a solution. If I wanted to get out of my horrible situation, I’d first have to find out more about my captor, even if that meant actually spending time with him.
“So you never bet in dog fights? I hear some people made millions with it.” Looking at his shabby home, I was certain that he could use the money.
He shook his head. “I don’t care about money and even if I did, I wouldn’t want to win it by letting dogs tear each other apart.”
This man was an enigma.
He gestured me to come closer again. “Come. You need to get to know each other and I don’t have much time left.”
I took a few hesitant steps closer and when both dogs didn’t stir, I bridged the remaining distance between us.
“Get down on your knees,” Growl ordered, and the words brought another image into my head that unsettled me even more than the dogs with their big teeth, especially because it caused my body to heat up. I quickly shoved the image away and crouched down.
Growl took my hand, startling me. Only in the last second could I stop herself from pulling away. His palm was callused and warm. I stopped breathing when he held my hand out in front of the light brown dog’s muzzle. It sniffed, then wagged its tail mildly. Next Growl put my hand down on its back. “This is Coco. She’s eight years old, and I’ve had her for two years.” Coco, seemed like a too tame name for a dog like that.