Page 31 of Beast's Wife
“Yes.”
“How did you grow up?” she asked.
“Bounced from place to place. I was a troubled child, and then as I became a teenager, let’s just say my calling came to me.”
“Who you are now?” Morgan asked.
“Yes, a guy named O’Neil got me off the street. He was looking to use kids to help him with some of his business ventures. Pickpocket, theft, that kind of thing. With me, he saw I was different, so he started my training. He would use me in fights. Then, as I got older, I became a guard to him, but he thought I was stupid. I didn’t speak back then. There was no point, words were used against you, so I stayed quiet. He thought that made me dumb. It didn’t. He was killing the kids that wanted out of the life. He always said you could stick around, earn your keep, and when you were ready, you could leave.”
“He didn’t keep his word.”
“No. It took several dead bodies for me to realize something wasn’t right.”
“And once you did realize?”
“O’Neil regretted breaking his word, and I broke him. He was the first, and then it was just easier to get the jobs. I was all muscle, and I was trained. It has been the same ever since.”
Morgan glanced over at him. “Do you like the reputation you have?” she asked.
“You have asked this before, and my answer is the same. Yes.” He took a step toward her, then another. “Do you like being married to a man with my reputation?”
She smiled. “Yes, I do.”
Morgan giggled. “I’ve surprised you.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“You’re lovely,” he said. “I could imagine you wanted a husband with a nine-to-five job, no danger. Certainly not having to do target practice.”
She shrugged. “Maybe if I was raised by a different family, but like I said, I’ve seen a lot of bad stuff already. I knowhow dangerous the world is, what people are capable of.” She shrugged. “Nine to five doesn’t … work. I like being married to you. I like being with you. Does that scare you?”
“No.”
“Well, if that doesn’t scare you, my bad shooting must,” she said. “There’s no way I’m going to be able to protect you.”
He laughed. “You only need to fire the weapon in the general direction as you’re getting away. None of this is going to change.”
“But what about everyone in the house? Andy told me you all know how to take care of each other. I don’t want to be the weak link, and there is no way I’d be able to live with myself if anything were to happen.”
“Will you stop panicking?” Carver said.
“You have home invasions. You have men and I don’t know about women, but they still try to come and hurt you. I’ve been here when it happens.”
“And I have protocols in place. Trust me.”
She sighed. “I do trust you, but I want to be able to help when the time comes.” She wanted to stamp her foot, but that would make her feel like a child. Instead, she pouted, which didn’t make her feel any better.
Carver took the gun from her and placed it down on the small table he’d put together. They were out deep in his garden. He wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her in close. She sunk against him, loving when he held her. There was nothing better in her world. She closed her eyes, not wanting to think about how bad she was at shooting a gun. Her role at home had been to be quiet and stay out of the way. When her mother decided to pay attention to her, it was to try and make her pretty.
On the night they had taken her to see Carver, she’d been told to be good, to behave, and to smile at him. She’d been so out of it, she hadn’t even realized what was going on.
“I want to protect you,” she said.
Her parents had called him an ugly bastard, a scarred fuckup. They had insulted him in ways they never would say to his face. She hated them, and in that moment, she was more than glad they were all dead.
“It’s my job to protect you,” he said, kissing the top of her head.