\[Elise’s POV\]
I keep my gaze fixed on Marty as he stares at me. It’s clear from his expression that he is being serious with his words, but how could we possibly be the same? I was a criminal with a lot of bad deeds under my belt that most likely guaranteed that there was no place for me when I died other than hell. And he was someone that Rosco trusted unconditionally, which meant that he couldn’t be all that bad.
“Wanna know how Rosco and I met?” Marty asks as if he were reading my thoughts. “It is a pretty amusing story.”
“Amusing.” I repeat, raising a brow. “Are you telling me that your first meeting with the big lug was one that could befit a comedy?”
“Something like that.” He chuckles. “Maybe at the time it wasn’t too funny, but now I can look back and laugh at it since it was my biggest mistake to date.”
His biggest mistake. What in the world was that even supposed to mean?
“Before I met Rosco, I was a bounty hunter.” Marty explains, passing the alcohol to me. “I killed for the highest bidder and didn’t give two shits about who it was I was offing. It could be a high-ranking wolf with immense power or some slum lord on the street. If the price was right, I’d kill them in a heartbeat.”
“I see.”
Taking a sip of the bacardi, I wait as Marty seems to collect his thoughts.
“When I said that you and I weren’t too different, I really meant it.” He continues, relaxing in his seat. “Just like you, I never knew my parents. I grew up in an orphanage where only breeders were kept. It was a dank place that reeked wreaked of piss and shit. Many died before they reached the age to fulfill their purpose, and because of that, I made it my life's mission to escape that place before one or the other happened to me.”
Nodding, I feel my heart squeeze as I try to imagine a place like that. Even if I was also raised in an orphanage, it was in the human world. Until my first shift, I wasn’t even aware of the fact that I was a wolf.
“That’s why, when I shifted for the first time, I broke out of that fucking place and never looked back. For a while, I lived on the streets and got by by stealing food and clothes. I slept wherever was warm and moved regularly since I was a wanted kid.”
Grabbing the bottle from me, Marty takes a long swig and then passes it back.
“It was when I was sixteen that I met my master. He was the one who invited me to join his family, and that was where I started mastering my skills to be a cold-blooded killing machine. I went on my first mission half a year after that and made my first kill before I was even seventeen. It became a routine for me to wake up and expect a new mission to be waiting for me. That’s how I found my way to Rosco.”
“You trying to say someone paid you to kill him?” I ask, my curiosity getting the best of me. “Who was it?”
“I didn’t see them.” Marty explains. “When the missions were given, it was the higher-ups who did the assigning, and as their lackeys, we just did as we were told. Who knew that the joke would be on me?” he continues now. “Up until that day, all my kills were simple, but Rosco didn’t make it easy. I could only assume that he was ready for someone to come for him, because that crazy bastard caught me before I could catch him. And when he had me in his grasp, he gave me two choices.”
“To live or work for him?” I try, knowing where this was going.
“That’s right.” Marty chuckles. “The crazy bastard appreciated my skills and already knew about me. I guess at the time he was aware that whoever hired me wouldn’t give up, so he wanted someone familiar with the underworld at the time.”
“And you decided to go along with him?” I ask.
“I’m not crazy.” Marty responds. “Well, not that crazy. I wasn’t ready to die, and that was exactly what would have happened to me.”
“But you turned your back on the people who saved you and gave you a home.” I argue. “How could you be so okay with it?”
“Well, about that. In the end, the one who sent me on the mission did it intentionally. He was already aware that I wouldn’t be able to survive, and because I was becoming too good at what I did, he wanted to get rid of me. Not to mention, the whole time he was simply using me to get rid of the people who stood in the way of him gaining power.”
“Really?” I ask in disbelief. “And how do you...”
“For the first few months, I wouldn’t agree to Rosco’s request, but when he uncovered all these truths, I joined him happily.” Marty grins. “And once I was set loose for the first time, I went for the very ones who betrayed me.”
Eyes widening, I take in the Marty in front of me. He was completely different from the easy-going man I was getting to know. This version of him was deadly; that much was easy to tell, and immediately I couldn’t help but be happy that he was on my team.
“And that’s basically how I came to be where I am today.” Marty finishes, shifting back into the version of himself that I was used to. “Maybe it was a boring story after all, but hopefully it helps you realize that you aren’t alone in your suffering.”
Not alone in my suffering. Honestly, I was more than aware that bad shit happened to good and bad people all the time. I didn’t think I was alone in my suffering, I just didn’t want to openly speak of the shit I went through.
To this day, the only person I ever opened up to completely about my past was Alexander, and that was because I trusted him completely not to hurt me, but the joke was on me.
“Since I’ve bared my skeletons, will you bare yours?” Marty pushes, not willing to drop the subject. “We can be partners in crime and each other's anchors; what do you think?”
Opening my mouth, I consider telling him everything. Maybe it was because he was being so honest with me or because of the alcohol, but I stop myself before I can utter a word.
“Are you trying to get close to me?” I ask instead, changing the subject entirely. “You know, you don’t have to work so hard if you just want to fuck me.”
“Don’t worry, sweetheart.” Marty chuckles. “If I wanted to fuck you, I would. I just figured since we are going to be spending a lot of time together, it would be better to know each other a bit.”
"Hm, as tempting as that sounds, I don’t quite care for talking about that shitty past of mine.”
Getting up, I give a stretch and begin to head toward my room.
“Thanks for the drink and the distraction.” I call over my shoulder as I move. “Have a good evening.”