Back then, he’d been a good kid. He’d done exactly what he was told. The destructive anger and black despair that drove him now, that hadn’t affected him much yetRe-381
But he was afraid, so afraid, that she knew. And if she knew . . . his world would self-destruct and take him with it. But even as he walked down the stairs to his father’s study, some part, the hidden, angry part that was growing inside and would, eventually, consume him, understood that she had to know. She was such a good mother, everyone said so. Her son was well mannered, well-groomed, and did well in school. Wasn’t he lucky to have such a good mother?Re-382
Ben had come a long way from the good little boy of his childhood. He’d gotten in more than a little trouble that his father’s money had bought him out of. He’d never hurt anyone, but he’d done about everything else. He still wondered about the fate that made him end up a werewolf instead of dead in a dark alley of an overdose or a knife in his bellyRe-385
It hadn’t escaped his notice that he’d taken on the role of his mother, which was bad enough. But the thing that made it nigh unbearable was that he liked it. When the woman screamed, it was his mother’s voice he heardRe-386
The woman was like him, like Ben. A victim. And he could take the easy route, like his mother had, as he had been doing all this time, or he could stop itRe-386