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Growl led me to a spot surrounded by a few dried bushes. There was no hint of a grave. “He’s there.” He pointed at the dusty ground.
I crouched beside the spot and lay my palm flat against the sand. My eyes prickled but I didn’t cry. “I really thought you’d fed him to the dogs.”
Growl frowned. “That’s not how you should treat the dead.”
I let out a laugh. “Really? You don’t mind killing and hurting people, but you care about their corpses.”
“Death was their punishment. There’s no sense in defiling their bodies.”
“I know Falcone’s done it before. Father told Mother about it, and she even asked me about it when I visited her. I even heard rumors that he fed bodies to his fight dogs, and made the families watch.”
“I don’t always agree with what Falcone does.”
That was at least something, I supposed. “Have you ever seen him do something like that?”
Growl nodded. “Once. But the family didn’t have to watch. Falcone knows I don’t care for useless violence so he usually doesn’t ask me to stay to watch.”
I lowered my eyes back to the ground. It was hard to imagine that my father was below me. Father had known the risks of his job, had earned a lot of money with it, and probably been responsible for several people’s demise, but he hadn’t deserved this. I wished he were here, so I could have long talk with him. I couldn’t remember when we had our last. Too long ago. “When you came to our house, did you think you were supposed to kill my father?” I wasn’t sure why it mattered. I knew Growl was a killer and that he wouldn’t have hesitated pulling the trigger.
“Falcone hadn’t told us who was going to kill your father.”
“But you knew that he wanted him dead.” I raised my eyes to meet his.
He gave me a look. “Your father betrayed Falcone. Death is the punishment for that.”
I sighed and rose to my feet, dusting off my pants that were covered in a fine layer of red sand.
“Do you ever go to your mother’s grave?” I asked.
“No,” he said. There was no emotion in his voice. “It’s just her body down there. And I don’t even remember her much. I prefer not to stay in the past.”
That was probably a necessity considering the many dark aspects of his life. “And yet to some degree you do.”
Confusion filled Growl’s face. “What do you mean?”
“You let the past determine who you are now, and you’re bound to a man who made you who you are today. There’s so much past in your life.”
Growl considered that. He really looked as if my words were getting through to him.
I risked the next step. “Don’t you want revenge? Have you never dreamed of killing him? Of hurting him for what he’s done to you? You could end it all. Free yourself of your past once and for all.”
Growl shook his head. “I told you, what he’s done to me made me who I am. I would not be here without him. I would not be here with you without him. He gave me you and that’s more than I ever hoped for.”
For a moment I could not breathe, could not move, could do nothing but stare and try to come to terms with what Growl had just said. How could so few words mean so much to me? How could something that man, that monster said, mean anything at all? It seemed impossible, even now.
He took a step closer and brushed a strand from my face before he took my hand in his. It wasn’t a romantic gesture, more like he needed to convince himself of something, needed to make it tangible to comprehend. “But him giving you to me wasn’t kindness,” he said. “Nothing like that. It was cruel and degrading. He wanted to punish you and he knew I was the kind of punishment that would break you.” He let go of my hand. “Just look at that skin. Unblemished. Clean. And look at me.” He held out his arms, covered in tattoos and scars, tanned and muscled. His life showed on his body.
I didn’t know what to say. Self-loathing seeped from every pore of his body, and I wasn’t sure how to handle it.
“Falcone hoped I’d do to you what he did to me. Turn you into something gruesome. Break you apart.”
I grabbed his hand firmly. “You didn’t break me,” I said stubbornly. But I wasn’t sure it was true. I wasn’t the person I used to be. Some part of me had been broken, not through violence by his hands and yet, I had changed all the same.
“Stop hating yourself,” I said angrily. “You aren’t helpless. You are perhaps the only person who can do something against Falcone. If you feel so bad about why Falcone gave me to you, then help me. You always say that you are lost, that you can’t redeem yourself. But that’s not true. You could make up for your sins by helping me and my family.”
