Page 70 of Awakening the Beast
“But…” I breathe out.
“No, buts sweetheart, it’s important.” She says sternly, showing me her boss and mom side. “I think if I could just have you close on the inside, you might be able to crack this one with me. I only need to point you in one direction.”
I gulp hard, my throat suddenly dry before reluctantly giving a small nod out of pure desperation to get this over with, and they both pause, searching my eyes for trust.
“Always remember no matter what, that this is just a hunch. Do not start killing people without knowing full facts. It’s not how we operate. As soon as I say the name, you will understand.” She declares, her voice steady.
My heart begins to pound, my palms sweaty and I wait in breathless anticipation. As soon as her rosy lips part to say the name, my father glances behind me and my mom follows suit. I close my eyes, knowing Arlo has entered and stopped what was about to be said.
I inhale deeply as we all stand to greet him, and I turn to face his way. He strides through the restaurant, in one of his tight, black, immaculate suits, one hand on his stomach, his Rolex glittering in the dim light while his other arm swings beside him. With his black shirt buttoned halfway down, he exposes his tattooed throat, chest and the heavy, silver knife necklace hanging from his neck.
His entire vibe reeks of power and it demands every ounce of attention, suffocating the entire room. His eyes are concealed by sunglasses as well which makes me realize we’re all trying to hide our identity here today and have our criminal thinking caps on.
He heads in my direction first, bending over a chair slightly, he sets his hand on my ass before placing me a firm kiss on my lips. I smile at him then watch as he leans over the table and respectfully shakes my dad’s hand before giving me mom a courteous nod.
As we all take our seats Arlo speaks, slouching back in his chair, “What no food? I’m fucking starving.”
I grin, no longer shy about how or who he is in front of anyone. He peeks behind him, before whistling to a waiter with a click of his fingers in the air.
After ordering some food and our drinks are served, my mom decides to break the ice with Arlo.
“Arlo.” she says, and he looks her way rapidly.
“I wanted to apologize for my decision making. I have realized my big mistake, and I know words are not enough to make upfor it, but I will in time, prove to you that I have learned from my mistakes, and I will restore yours and Wren’s trust.”
Arlo possessively slides his hand into my inner thigh under the table as he keeps his eyes on hers, not at all being discreet about it which makes me somewhat tense up because I can feel his aura. He’s not happy. He’s still stressed.
“Oh, yeah and how do you plan on making up six months of your daughters and my sons tears Hazel?” He asks bitterly before taking a steady sip of his whiskey.
I lower my head, now feeling uncomfortable, but I stay silent because he is well within his right to face my mom in this manner and ask questions.
“I know it’s not an easy fix…” she says calmly.
“No, you’re fucking right, it ain’t.” he scoffs cutting her off and my eyes slowly close, biting my tongue with everything I have.
“In time Arlo, we will make it right for you, Wren and the kids.” My dad pipes in from across the table.
I lift my head and turn it toward Arlo, noticing his jaw is tense and he is sizing up my father from behind his sunglasses. To try to soothe him, I place my hand on his thigh beneath the table and glance around at them all.
“It will take time. But what matters most is getting to the bottom of why this mess happened in the first place. Fighting about the past won’t help that.” I say, trying to calm the situation.
“You’re right, Wren and as soon as I have all the information, I will be happy to give it to you and Arlo.” My mom says as the waiters bring us our lunch.
After some uneasy silence and eating, my mom speaks once again, shattering it. “I was thinking…”
I look at her and Arlo lifts his head, slowly chewing on his food and she’s addressing him, not me.
“Have you ever thought about becoming a Ghost, Arlo?” she asks quietly, and my breathing seems to stop all together.
Arlo takes a napkin, wiping his mouth while resting back in his seat, slouching one of his arms over the back of mine, then tosses his napkin onto his almost empty plate.
“I’m sorry, what?” he says, but in a tone that suggests that he is offended.
My mom shrugs her shoulders, “I mean, have you?”
Arlo swipes his sunglasses off his face, placing them on the table calmly, completely exposing his identity.
“Let’s get one thing straight. I don’t hide behind anything or anyone, I’m no fucking pussy. I’m built to be the face of criminality and murder.” He responds, his voice almost aggressive.
