Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 77276 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 386(@200wpm)___ 309(@250wpm)___ 258(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77276 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 386(@200wpm)___ 309(@250wpm)___ 258(@300wpm)
“Stop overthinking every fucking thing,” he murmured.
“You can’t understand,” I said harshly. For him, sin and guilt and shame weren’t words that mattered.
“Perhaps,” he admitted. “But I understand your body.” He pressed two fingers against my wet center and brought them to his lips. “And your body likes it.”
“You’re disgusting,” I said. I tried to turn away, to get away, but it was close to impossible with his body hovering above me. “Maybe my body reacts to you but I will never feel anything but hatred for you, you monster.” I closed my lips with a snap, unable to believe what I’d said. How could I tell him something like that if I wanted his help?
“I’m a monster, you got that right. Have always been, will always be. I’m good at being a monster. Few people ever find something they’re good at, something they were meant to be,” he said simply. He didn’t sound angry, only resigned.
“That’s crazy. Nobody’s meant to be a killer. Nobody’s meant to be like you. You want to be like that. You said you like blood and pain and death, and you pretending to be born a monster is your excuse to justify the horrors you’ve committed.”
“You’re right. There’s nothing better than the rush of the kill. It’s exhilarating. It’s you against them. It’s all or nothing. Nothing in this world makes one feel more alive than that. I like it. And I don’t give a fuck about justifying anything to anyone. I’d do everything again. I regret nothing.”
I swallowed. “I don’t get it. How does anyone become like that. It can’t all be because of that scar on your throat.”
He got off the bed. “I have many scars and they all made me the man I am today.”
I searched his face for a hint of the humanness I’d seen before, but he looked so other in that moment. “That doesn’t mean it can’t be different. You act so strong and unbeatable but you let your past and your supposed fate dictate your life. Why don’t you fight for a better future?”
“For me there’s no future.”
“But there could be,” I whispered.
Growl searched my face again. There was longing. He wanted more out of this life, even if he couldn’t admit it to himself yet. He left without another word and I lie awake, staring into the darkness.
I was too agitated to sleep and so I got up eventually. For some reason I needed to be close to Growl now.
It was silent inside the house when I stepped into the corridor. My slow breath felt like an intruder of the quiet. I headed toward Growl’s bedroom but the door was open and he wasn’t inside.
Where was he? I crept through the darkness when my eyes registered a dim light spilling into the house from the backyard. I tried to move soundlessly as I approached the terrace door. Growl sat at the small shabby table. A half-burnt-down candle on a saucer hardly broke through the night but managed to cast eerie shadows across his face. The dogs were stretched out at his feet. They didn’t react. Either they hadn’t noticed me, which didn’t really qualify them as guard dogs, or they’d deemed me too uninteresting for a reaction. Growl looked lonely. In the short time I knew him I’d learned to read his expressions better, but I still didn’t understand him.
He sought out my closeness, was trying to treat me right, even though he’d never learned how. Had anyone ever treated him right? Except for his mother perhaps. I considered returning to my bedroom but something kept me rooted to the spot.
“I know you’re there,” Growl said quietly.
I walked toward him hesitantly. He looked tired. “You should be sleeping,” he said.
“You too.”
“I can’t,” he admitted.
“Me neither.”
We looked at each other. “Can I stay?”
Growl nodded. I took a step toward the free chair, then changed my mind and headed for Growl. His brows crinkled as he watched me. I crawled on his lap and put my head down on his shoulder. He let out a low breath but didn’t do anything else.
He was warm and strong. I drew in his scent. It didn’t take long before my eyes felt heavy. When I was almost asleep, I felt Growl’s fingers glide over my hair. Up and down. And then I drifted off.
I was back in my bed when I woke the next morning, and Growl was back to being his usual distant self when I entered the kitchen and grabbed the cup of coffee waiting for me.
“I will show you where they buried your father,” Growl said without warning.
I froze. My throat tightened with emotions and most of my anger drained out of me. “You will?” My voice was shaky.
Growl nodded, eyes almost kind. “You should get the chance to say goodbye. If it’ll make things easier.”