Page 81 of Awakening the Beast
Her head tilts up, her face brightening with a smile that lights up the room. “You’re taking me out?”
I give her a subtle nod, my lips curling slightly before continuing. “But listen—I need to go away, Wren. Next weekend, I have to leave the city for a few nights.”
Her smile fades just as I expected, her face clouding with disappointment. She’s never been good at hiding how much she hates us being apart. I draw her closer, my arms wrapping protectively around her, her body fitting perfectly against mine.
“It’s just for the fucking weekend, beautiful. Business, nothing more,” I mutter. “I’ll be back before you know it. And I’ll make sure everything is in place while I’m gone.”
Her hesitation lingers, that silent worry flickering in her eyes, but after a long pause, she nods, slowly accepting it.
It's been a few days since Arlo gave me the green light to take care of Savannah, but I needed to step back, gather myself, and come up with a strategy for dealing with both her and Carmella. There’s no room for mistake, not with everything on the line. Today feels like the calm before the storm, and I know that after today, things will change. They have to.
As I pull up in front of my parents’ house, I kill the engine and just sit there, staring at the familiar structure. Arlo wasn’t exactly thrilled, but he reluctantly agreed to let my mom have Lumi for the day. Later, though, I’ll need to spend time with his mother, Carmella, which is something I've wanted. He doesn't know the real reason why I did what I did in his office, the stunt I pulled—he has no idea how calculated it was.
I needed him to push me toward Carmella. To get his approval, even if it were devious, so I wouldn't feel the weight of guilt as much when I go behind his back to deal with Carmella. It’s wrong, I know that. But I couldn’t just sit by anymore and let her toxic presence fester in our lives. She could definitely be the root of all this pain. Arlo’s pain. I feel it in my bones.
Yes, it cost me, ending up getting fucked with my own gun, but that moment with Arlo—it was worth every bit of the danger. I'll take whatever he throws at me, suffer anything he needs to do, as long as I can see this through. I need to protect him, protect us, from the twisted games Carmella could be playing.
Arlo deserves so much better. The cracks he tries to hide, the ones he thinks make him indestructible, are the ones that scare me the most. They’re barely noticeable to anyone else, but I see them, and I can’t just watch him crumble under the weight of everything he’s been carrying. That’s why I’ve got to go through with this. Even if it means lying to him now, it’s for the greater good—for us, for our future. But it’s a dangerous game I’m playing, and I just hope all of this won’t be for nothing.
The thought of what might be uncovered haunts me. If my mom is right, and the truth is worse than we imagined, I know Arlo will be devastated, shattered even. But at least in the end, he’ll know who he can trust. He’ll always have me, and I’ll never let him down. No matter how dark things get, our family comes first.
Sliding on my sunglasses, I open the car door and step out, lifting Lumi from her car seat. Her little giggles and tiny hands reach for my face, and I can't help but smile as I fuss over her. She’s my grounding force, the reason I have to keep going, no matter how shit everything feels. With Lumi perched on my hip and her diaper bag slung over my shoulder, I head toward the house.
When I knock, my mom swings open the door almost instantly, her face lighting up with a big smile. I smile backbefore stepping inside and heading straight for the kitchen. I reluctantly hand Lumi over to her, feeling that tight coil of hesitation deep in my gut, but I shove it down.
I trust my mom, I do, but the anxiety of leaving Lumi behind never fades. My mom fusses over her, cooing at her as she bounces her in her arms, and for a brief moment, I can push the worry aside. But it’s still there, lurking in the back of my mind.
“I’ll collect her this evening,” I say, stroking Lumi’s hair.
“Of course, sweetheart. What are your plans for the day?”
I lift a brow at her question, and she inhales deeply, her smile weakening, catching on to my silence.
“Oh, I see,” she responds. “Well, stay safe. Lumi will be fine here. I promise.”
After saying my goodbyes to my mom, I leave as quickly as I can. The unease of leaving Lumi behind tugs at me, but I can't let it linger. I need to stay focused on what's ahead. Sliding back into the driver's seat, I take a deep breath, letting the engine's hum steady my thoughts. I know exactly where I’m going. The spot. To Savannah.
When I pull up to the spot, I turn off the engine and step out with my gun. As I walk toward the door, I slide it in the back of my pants and enter. While walking down the dark corridor, I think about Arlo and how he was too busy to witness me doingthis today. Although it's probably for the best. I'm hoping to cox some information out of Savannah before I put a bullet between her eyes. And Arlo isn't exactly the type of man who wants to see a woman be killed. No matter who it is. The harrowing scars of what he witnessed with Bridget, seared deep into his soul.
Once I reach the door, the guard steps aside without a word, and I push it open, the metal groaning against the weight of its own rust. The dimly lit room smells like blood and sweat, and Savannah sits slumped in the chair, her head tilted downward. Without breaking stride, I grab a chair from the wall and drag it across the concrete floor, the screeching sound punctuating the heavy silence. My eyes lock on her beaten frame, not wavering for a second.
I position the chair directly in front of her, close enough for her to feel my presence, but far enough to stay out of her reach. I sit down, leaning back, crossing my legs as I observe her. She’s barely holding herself together—her face is a brutal canvas of violence: bloodshot eyes peering through the bruising, a deep cut trailing down her cheek, her lip split in two places. But I keep my expression neutral, unreadable, my face as cold as the metal walls surrounding us.
Minutes tick by, the tension heavy between us. I wait. I want her to feel every second of this. Eventually, Savannah stirs, raising her head slowly. The defiance that used to burn in her eyes is dim now, almost extinguished, but she looks at me. I see the recognition, the realization that this isn’t about torture anymore. This is about finality.
I lean forward slightly. “You know why I'm here, Savannah,” I say, my tone cutting through the silence like a blade. “So let’s not drag this out.”
Savannah shrugs her shoulders with a careless smirk, and I tilt my head, studying her. “Are you sure you're not willing to fight for your life?” I ask calmly, my voice laced with an undercurrent of threat. “I could let you go. All I need is who and what.” The lie rolls off my tongue smoothly, though we both know how this will end.
Her response is immediate, venomous. “And why the fuck would I tell someone who holds no dignity? You’re undeserving, Wren,” she spits, her voice raw with hate. “Go fuck yourself.”
I don't react. Her words don’t sting like they used to. Not anymore. Instead, I watch her unravel, her anger bubbling just below the surface.
“You prance around all high and mighty, sitting on a fucking throne I was promised,” she sneers.
“Promised?” I ask, keeping my tone indifferent, though curiosity creeps in.
“Promised,” she repeats, filled with bitterness. “I was supposed to be with Arlo the moment precious little Bridget died.”
