Page 61 of In My Blood
“I don’t take orders, love,” he told me. “Especially not from a tiny thing like you.” He was staring into my eyes and I became lost in those deep dark pools. He looked older than the others by a few years, the hint of some tiny lines in the corners of his eyes, but it didn’t take anything from him. He was devastatingly handsome, in a very rugged kind of way that I found I very much liked.
“It wasn’t an order,” I told him as I came back to my senses. “It was me taking care of you, and youwilllet me do that. No arguments.”
“We’re supposed to be taking care of you.”
“I thought this was a family. Shouldn’t we all take care of one another?” I questioned. Dante just nodded, then finally released the grip he had on me. A huge part of me didn’t want him torelease me. I had this insane urge to curl up in his lap and just feel his size and strength around me, to feel the rumble I knew would rattle his chest when he spoke.
“Of course we should. You’re completely right. Come on, Cara. I’ll help you make something,” Cal spoke up and I nodded, shaking my head of thoughts of Dante and returning to the task at hand.
Callan and I decided to just make some sandwiches, since it was pretty close to dinner time anyway. I enjoyed the way we worked together as Callan sliced the home baked bread while I prepared a selection of fillings, then we set to work making the sandwiches together.
By the time we set the large platter plate we had filled with a mix of sandwiches down on the island, my stomach was going wild for food, especially after me smelling the amazing crusty bread the whole time.
“Who wants a drink?” Callan asked.
“Water please,” Dante answered.
“Ye makin’ coffee?” Arran asked.
“I will. I need coffee too,” I offered.
“I’ll make it, babe. You sit down and eat before your stomach erupts again,” Cal chuckled as he shooed me away.
“Thank you,” I told him happily, then I went back over and took a seat happily between Dante and Arran. I couldn’t say I trusted them yet. It would take time for me to feel that sure of them, but I felt safe with them, and that was a huge step for me.
“Which sangwich do ya want, lass?” Arran asked me, taking me by surprise when he grabbed the plate from before me and held it, looking to me for my answer.
“Oh…erm, any please. They all look good,” I shrugged, feeling unsure. I sat speechless as Arran grabbed two different types of half sandwich and set them on my plate, then positioned it before me. He hadn’t even grabbed his own food yet, instead taking care of me. It was odd, but so nice too.
“Thank you,” I whispered shyly as I glanced up to him with a nervous smile.
“Yer welcome. Now eat up, afore there’s nothin’ left of ye.”
I picked up my first sandwich and took a bite. It was cheddar cheese with apple and pear chutney. I hadn’t eaten anything like it before, but damn, it was good. I moaned a little in delight, then took another huge bite, the saltiness of the crumbly cheese setting my taste buds alive.
“That good?” Dante asked, and when I looked to him he was smirking at me again, but in a humorous way. I got the impression I was amusing him with my enthusiasm for a simple sandwich.
“Get used to it. I enjoy eating decent food,” I shrugged, refusing to be embarrassed. I knew the importance of food after living with the bare minimum for so long. I was never going to be ashamed of showing how grateful I was for what I had, now that I had it.
“It’s a cheese sandwich,” Dante told me.
“Have you ever eaten cheddar cheese in America? I can tell you it does not taste like this, and even if it did, I couldn’t have afforded it in the last eight years anyway. Trust me, this is decent food.”
I polished the rest of the sandwich off in two bites, Dante not saying another word about the noises of enjoyment that slipped from me with each bite. By the time I was reaching for the second half – this one filled with chicken mayonnaise and salad, Callan was setting down my coffee for me – black, just the way I liked it. I thanked him and smiled widely as he took the seat opposite me. I knew I was ridiculous, but I was having the best time I could remember having, sat there with the three of them, eating and laughing. I felt relaxed and I couldn’t seem to stop smiling.
“Were there other foods ye missed while ye were over there, Cara?” Arran asked me. I moved my head side to side and thought about the question as I finished the too big bite I had taken.
“Erm…not really. I mean, definitely Terza’s cooking, but nothing specific. If I’m honest, my diet was so basic for all of that time, I stopped thinking about food I missed or wanted. Eating just became another part of surviving,” I told them. May be it was too honest, but I wasn’t going to lie.
“Basic? What does that mean? What did you eat?” Dante asked, back to his grumpy self as he stared me down, awaiting his answer.
“Different things at different times. At first my Mum worked some, and she’d bring home diner food – usually cold burgers or grilled cheese. That was okay. It was miles from what I was usedto, but it was filling, and if I kept some, I’d have food for during the day while she was at work too,” I explained. “Whenever she found a boyfriend, that was usually tougher. Her boyfriends weren’t exactly savoury types, and they hardly ever had food in the kitchen. Mum didn’t like me to leave the bedroom anyway. She said I got in the way, or pissed off the guys she was with, but I usually found a way to get something – cereal, or leftovers they didn’t eat when they came home with takeout. Mum did have two boyfriends who would make sure I ate. One – Rick – was really nice, and he tried to look out for me some, but Mum ended that when she discovered he wasn’t going to buy her drugs. The other, well he fed me for his own motives and I learnt that fast.” I shuddered as I remembered Tim – the first, but definitely not the last, creep who took liberties with me during those years.
“Cara. Jesus,” Callan said, and I looked up at him, hating the look on his face. He looked angry and concerned all at once, and it felt wrong. I needed his smile back.
“It got better as I got older,” I shrugged. “I started finding ways to earn money and I could buy some basics. Occasionally, when things got dire, I’d turn to shop lifting, but never anything expensive and never more than we needed to survive,” I stressed, not wanting them to think badly of me.
“You lived on the streets?” Dante pushed.
