Page 27 of Awakening the Beast
He shakes his head and looks away with a sigh, dropping his arms beside him. “You’re not getting involved with this, Arlo. Stay the fuck out of it and concentrate on Wren and your kids. You need to take a step back and sort your head out.”
There’s no way in hell I’m stepping back from this. He is crazy if he thinks otherwise; there’s some cunt out there who tried to kill Wren and my daughter. He is living in a fucking dream world if he thinks I’m not diving into this and killing the motherfuckers held responsible.
“Wren is under the impression it’s Savannah,” I say, trying to probe for anything, but he just tilts his head from side to side while shrugging his shoulders, not making this easy for me.
“I mean, she should die, but she isn’t the biggest problem in all this and that’s why she isn’t dead yet.”
“Fucking tell me, Phillip, or I swear to God, I will tell Wren everything,” his eyes snap to mine when I say the threat, and I give a small nod. “She deserves to know after everything she has been through, and I’m not going to lie to her anymore.”
“That’s not for you to decide, Arlo. She has no reason to know,” he snaps, his face going red as his nostrils flare.
“What fucking harm will it cause her knowing? If anything, it will benefit her.”
He pushes himself away from the wall and starts walking toward the house. “We’re done here,” he says over his shoulder.
My hands ball into fists so tightly that my short nails break the skin, and I feel like going insane watching him walk away. The rage inside me is a fucking cyclone, threatening to destroy everything in its path. I can’t let this go. I won’t let this go.
“Phillip!” I shout, my voice echoing in the stillness of the yard. He stops but doesn’t turn around. “You think you can just walk away from this? You think you can keep me and Wren in the dark and control everything? You’re fucking wrong. I will find out the truth, with or without your help.”
He turns his head slightly, just enough for me to see the cold, calculating look in his eyes. “Do what you have to do, Arlo. But remember, you’re not the only one with something to lose.”
With that, he walks back inside the mansion, leaving me standing there lost in my own insanity.
After a bit of catching up with my mom and her cuddling Lumi, I see my dad enter the living room. When our eyes meet, he offers me a wide smile. I return the smile and see my mom turn around to face him.
My body quickly relaxes, feeling that whatever he and Arlo discussed must have gone well. He walks straight up to us, arms outstretched, definitely wanting to hold Lumi. My mother joyfully hands her over to him, and I watch in awe as he lavishes attention on her. This is a very special occasion for my parents; I've always known they'd make wonderful grandparents and love Lumi unconditionally. Seeing them so happy and engaged with her fills me with a sense of peace and contentment.
But then Arlo emerges out of nowhere, and my entire mood shifts. He doesn't seem happy at all; his aura is intense, as if something has really agitated him. I feel anxiety crawl up my spine as he passes across the living room, not looking at me until he is totally out of sight. My brows furrow, and I want to go to him, but I can't since my parents are here and I can't move due to the pain. I try to focus on the moment, but my mind keeps drifting back to Arlo and whatever has him so angry.
Carmella eventually says her goodbyes, followed closely by my mom and dad.
My mom peers down at me with a smile, “Please drop us a visit soon, Wren.”
“Of course I will, Mom.”
She wraps me in a gentle hug, her embrace comforting, before stepping back. My dad then places Lumi in my arms, leaning down to kiss my forehead softly.
“You did great, princess. She’s truly precious,” he says, his voice filled with pride.
I offer him a wry smile, watching them leave until they disappear from sight. A sense of confusion lingers as I stare ahead, my thoughts a mess. Cree snuggles closer to me, his small body warm and I lower my gaze to him, my fingers instinctively running through his curly hair.
“I wonder where your dad is hiding,” I murmur, more to myself than to him.
The minutes stretch on, feeling like an eternity until Arlo finally reappears in the living room. He looks calmer, but the uneasy sensation in my stomach refuses to go. Something feels off. When he reaches us, he leans down and gently lifts Cree into his arms, his small frame limp with sleep.
“I’ll get Cree into bed and then help you with Lumi,” he whispers, avoiding meeting my eyes before he walks away.
What happened? Could something have go on between him and my dad? It seems unlikely—my dad is a typical nerd, the lastperson to provoke someone like Arlo. Yet, the tension in the air makes me think otherwise.
Arlo reappears, breaking me from the thoughts swirling in my mind. He gently takes Lumi from my arms, cradling her against his chest, her tiny body rising and falling with his steady breaths. He extends his arm to me, and I scoot across the couch, tightening my grasp on his bicep as he helps me stand.
We make our way upstairs together, then spend some time bathing Lumi, her small giggles bringing a brief fluffiness to the worry. We dress her in soft pyjamas, tuck her into her crib, and then move toward our bedroom. After taking a seat on the soft mattress, I place the baby monitor on the bedside table, its presence a small reminder of our new reality.
I then watch Arlo move around the room, stripping off his clothes and I can’t help but notice the growing distance between us. The silence is heavy, almost suffocating, and I feel it pressing down on me until I can no longer bear it.
“What's wrong?” I finally ask.
Arlo's brows knit together as he unbuttons his jeans, not looking into my eyes again. “Nothing. Why?” he responds, his tone a little too casual, too dismissive.
