Arlo #3
Ward laughed, missing the surprise on my face because Dom had admitted one of his more closely guarded secrets so casually. “Usually? Well, alright. I can understand that...no, scratch that, I don’t understand it.”
“He’s a man of many tastes,” I explained at Dom’s confused expression. “Mason.”
“Oh,” Dom grunted and then nodded. “That makes more sense.”
“Another sibling?” Ward guessed.
“Yes,” I said as I took the bacon out of the pan and layered it with stacks of paper towels on a plate. “He and Moira are the oldest siblings, twins, and Matilda’s firstborns. Next oldest is me, followed by Dom, both of us were adopted by Matilda and her husband, Marcus.”
“My parents died in an accident while they were on vacation,” Dom explained. “My mom and Matty were best friends growing up. So I guess it was an easy choice for her to take me on. It made things easier for me since I already knew Matty, Mason, and Moira.”
“And I was taken out of the foster care system like I explained before,” I added as I grabbed the eggs to crack into the pan. “Elijah is Marcus’s son from a previous marriage, and Milo was the last in line. Matilda had him before she met Marcus, with Marshall.”
“Just...how many M names are there in your family?” Ward wondered.
Dom and I’s eyes met. We stared at one another before turning back to Ward, and I laughed. “You know, I’d never given it any thought before. But I suppose we do have a few, don’t we?”
Ward chuckled. “Funny the things we miss until some outsider comes along and points it out. And you grew up in a hotel?”
“Since we were adopted, yes,” I explained.
“That had to be an interesting way to grow up,” Ward mused.
I nodded, taking the spatula and shifting the eggs around. “It was unique, at least I thought so. But all in all, I’d say it was a normal, perfectly happy family.”
One of the eggs was stuck to the bottom of the pan, and I sighed, leaning forward to scrape at it.
The pan sizzled and popped, and I jerked when light flashed before me, and I jumped back with a yelp as flames spread across the pan toward my face.
I fell backward, caught by someone as my face ached and I cursed.
Half hanging in their arms, I peered at the pan, seeing flames leap up as Dom jumped forward with a lid and slammed it down over the fire.
“Jesus Christ!” Ward hissed as he smacked at my head. “How the hell did you manage that?”
“Good question,” I said, touching my face and wincing at the tenderness. “How bad is it?”
Dom whirled around and looked me over. “Well, you’ve got a bit of a sunburn from the looks of it, and uh...well, your eyebrows are...mostly there. Gonna need a haircut though.”
Sighing, I tried to pick myself up, which required some help from Ward, who got me on my feet with a shove and a yank. “That was...unfortunate.”
“That was ridiculous, is what it was,” Ward said with a huff. “How did that even happen? It’s an electric stove.”
“There was plenty of grease from the bacon,” I said, taking my phone off the counter and turning on the front-facing camera.
I winced at the sight looking back at me.
Half of my eyebrow on one side was gone, and the front of my hair looked like I was going bald.
“Most unfortunate. Over the weekend, I’ll have to look for someone who can make me presentable.
There is no way I can go to work looking like this. ”
“Better that than what could have been,” Dom muttered, flipping off the heat and shifting the pan off the burner. “What’s that noise?”
“My phone,” Ward said, leaning down to touch my face and sigh. “Well, I’ve seen worse.”
“I would expect, in my line of work, that to be something I would say,” I said grimly.
“There was a party I went to once, all the way down in Miami, not my party, mind you. Someone decided it was a perfectly reasonable idea to allow people to do bath salts, if you remember that trend.”
“Jesus, I remember that,” Dom muttered, picking up the lid carefully, and after confirming there was no fire, set it aside. “People did the craziest shit on that stuff. Night of the Living Dead kind of shit.”
“Among other things,” Ward said, distaste thick in his voice.
“One fine gentleman decided he was immune to fire, or at least that’s the conclusion I came to, since I never actually heard his reasoning for walking through that bonfire.
The results were...well, you smell much better than him, though the memory put me off pork for quite some time. ”
“Jesus Christ,” Dom barked out a laugh. “That’s fucked up, man.”
“It was fucked up,” Ward agreed. “And it wasn’t my doing. The worst I’ve seen at one of my parties always comes from someone bringing in something I didn’t approve, or...I suppose, as was the case with the last party, decided that was the place to end her life.”
“What?” Dom asked.
“A young woman committed suicide at his last party,” I said, poking at my eyebrow and sighing. “There’s no fixing this.”
“Would you believe me if I said you’re still good-looking?” Ward asked.
“Someone really wants to get ahold of you,” Dom muttered as Ward’s phone continued ringing.
“I’m not worried about my appearance for the sake of pride or whether I’m attractive,” I said with a sigh, setting my phone down. “But my job involves dealing with people. I cannot do that when I look like I stuck my face in a fire.”
“You didn’t intentionally stick your face in a fire,” Ward assured me unnecessarily. “Who in the hell is being so persistent?”
“I suppose you should find out,” I said with a smile.
“Can’t a man have a day of peace and quiet?” he muttered as he stomped off toward the bedroom, the ringing stopping as he came back and frowned at the screen. “Why is David calling me?”
“Who?”
“The security man for the building...and my mother has called me as well. God save me, I’ll call David and leave my mother in the dark, excuse me.”
Dom and I watched him walk out the front door, Dom glancing at me. “Why doesn’t he want to talk to his mother? Is she a worrier like Matty?”
“I met her for the first time last night, and when she managed to speak to me alone, she assumed I was a high-paid prostitute. When I pointed out that I’m not, she made a vague but still pointed threat if she discovered I was lying to her,” I said as I picked up the pan and examined it.
“Huh...I think these are perfectly cooked.”
“Wow, so she’s a total bitch then,” Dom summarized rather accurately. “Scoop one of those out, I’ll try it.”
“You’ll eat anything,” I pointed out as I did as he said, offering him the bacon as well. “And well...his relationship with his mother is complicated and fraught with bad feelings.”
“You know, you are allowed to say bad things about bad people,” he said with a snort. “But then again, I don’t really know the guy, so for all I know, he deserves having a bitch of a mother.”
I said nothing as I jammed the bread into the toaster and pulled out the softened butter.
I had to admit, Amelia had come off as a rather.
..unpleasant person, that was for sure. It wasn’t so much her assumption about what I was that bothered me; there was no real shame in using one’s personality and body to make a living, as far as I was concerned, but the vehemence and threats bothered me.
There’d been no reason for it, and while I suspected that her attitude had more to do with Ward’s previous behavior than anything I had done, it still bothered me.
“Hey,” Dom said quickly when he caught the look on my face. “I wasn’t saying he’s a bad guy, alright? Like I said, I don’t know him.”
“I don’t either,” I said with a shrug. “So it isn’t like I can defend him.”
“Well, you’re usually a pretty good judge of character, even if it hasn’t always worked out.
If you think this guy is worth your time, go for it.
I don’t really see how a partying rich boy fits into your life, but it’s not my life either,” he said with a shrug.
“And these eggs are the best eggs you’ve ever cooked, how the fuck does that work? ”
“I have not one idea,” I admitted with a snort, taking a piece of one of the eggs and grunting when it was actually pretty good. “Apparently, I need to incorporate arson into my breakfast for it to taste right.”
“That doesn’t sound like the right phrase, but whatever,” Dom chuckled as he took another scoop of eggs and bit off a chunk of bacon.
Ward returned to the house, and one look told me something was seriously wrong. “What is it?”
“I...apparently a fire broke out in my penthouse this morning,” Ward said, holding up his phone. “David was calling to make sure I was alright, but—”
I stared at him for a moment before looking at Dom, whose expression was blank before transforming into a grimace. “Not only was that bad phrasing on your part, but it was really badly timed.”
“Not now,” I told him with a glare.
Ward’s eyes drifted to the pan of eggs on the stove before looking back at me. “I’m sorry but...I need to go. My place might not have been much, but it was mine and I—”
“Of course,” I said, grabbing my phone. “We’ll get dressed and take my car.”
“Holy hell,” Ward muttered as he looked around, and I couldn’t blame him.
We were left to stand just past the doorway to his penthouse while police officers and firefighters inside moved things and looked over everything else.
The ugly smell of smoke filled the room, and there was something else, something sharper and familiar that I couldn’t immediately place.
There was a heaviness about the whole place that didn’t make much sense, considering several windows had blown out, allowing air flow through the entire penthouse.
“Mr. Reddington?” the officer who had greeted us at the door said softly.
“I’m mentally present and accounted for,” Ward said softly. “Emotionally a little blown onto my back, but...yes, what?”