TWENTY-FOUR
This wasn’t how I imagined spending my Friday morning. In fact, I never thought I’d be spending it like this at all. I’m still a little confused as to why or how it all happened, but somehow, I’m not complaining.
Arlo and I have been training together for days without taking a break. It’s taken a toll on my body, my muscles stiff and sore, but I need to do it. I don’t have the luxury of taking breaks or lowering the pace. It needs to be done quickly.
This morning, we were supposed to start on my shooting skills. Instead, after breakfast, Aria approached me. She didn’t say much, just told me to get ready and to meet her outside. For a moment, I thought she was going to physically fight me, but the thought soon vanished when she entered her car, patiently waiting for me.
Now, we’re inside of a small coffee shop. She’s sipping on her mocha latte, eyes skimming through the interior. It’s mainly in shades of brown, grey, and white, with pretty lamps and decor all around, giving it a very cozy and comfortable feeling.
“Is something happening back at home?”
I break the silence, sipping on the cup of espresso. Aria’s blue eyes land on me, and she’s momentarily confused. Then, she blinks and shakes her head, her long hair falling down her mid-back.
“No, why?”
“Why are we here, Aria?”
I sigh. “Did Arlo put you up to this?”
She lifts a brow, clearly not amused. “It’s nothing like that.”
“Then?” I press.
Noelle and Hudson have welcomed me into their home with open arms, and they’ve been nothing but kind, supportive, and loving toward me. I could never thank them enough for everything that they’ve done for me. However, it’s only Aria that has kept her distance.
She wasn’t rude by any means, or snarky, but she’s a teenager, and I didn’t think she’d be interested in me at all. That’s one of the reasons I’m shocked she brought me to grab a cup of coffee together.
“Arlo is my brother. I love him more than I love anyone else in this world.”
A small smile tugs on the corner of my lips. She’s fierce, and I see the intent of protectiveness in her eyes at the mention of Arlo. I don’t interrupt her, waiting for her to gather her thoughts and continue.
“But you are someone he loves very much,”
she adds. “I don’t know you, not yet at least. As long as my brother is happy with you, I’m happy. So, what I’m trying to say is…”
I lift an amused brow. “If I hurt your brother, I’ll have to deal with you?”
“Well, that too,”
she rolls her eyes. “But more importantly, Arlo is family; that makes you family, too. I want to make you feel included, and although I’m not the most welcoming person, it’s nothing against you. I’m just like that. So… welcome to the family, I guess.”
My heart flutters. No one’s outright said it so far. On some level, I felt like a part of their family from day one, but my insecurities and the dark thoughts rarely allowed me to dare that they truly saw me as their family. The fact that she went out of her way to say it warms my heart in ways I never knew possible, and I have to close my eyes to prevent tears from spilling over.
“If you dare cry and embarrass me in public, I’ll leave you here,”
she threatens, and I snort.
“Don’t worry, I won’t cry,”
I smile, opening my eyes and looking at her. “But thank you, Aria; it really means a lot to me.”
“It better. I don’t let just anyone in my family.”
And the snarky teenager is back. With a choked laugh, I shake my head.
Aria lifts her arms over her head, stretching. My eyes immediately fall on the exposed part of her lower stomach and the dark, deep purple bruise that covers her skin. My brows narrow, a hint of worry flashing through my chest.
“What is that?”
I ask, pointing at the bruise.
She glances down, then tugs her shirt lower. “Just a bruise.”
“I can tell,”
I draw out. “How did you get it?”
“From volleyball,”
she shrugs. “I tend to fall a lot.”
Despite her calm demeanor, I can’t shrug off the strange feeling at the bruise. I’m not very well versed in sports of any kind. I just know the basics of volleyball, and although injuries can happen, how come hers is that big and in such an odd place? She’s either lying or she has the world’s worst luck.
Pressing her to speak will not make her open up, and since she’s decided to accept me, I don’t want to ruin it. I make a mental note to do research later and then focus on extracting information out of her in a different way.
“Arlo mentioned you played volleyball. What position do you play?”
“I’m the setter,”
she beams, a proud look on her face. “Although, I do play the middle blocker from time to time.”
“You? I mean, you’re tall, but you’re not that tall,” I tease.
She scowls. “Listen, I may not be the tallest, but I can jump hella high! That’s how I get bruised all the time. Terrible landing.”
I wince, though the small flicker of doubt at her words lingers. I can’t shake it off, no matter how much I want to trust her words.
“If you plan on doing it professionally, definitely work on your landing.”
She sips on her latte, then leans back in the comfortable chair. “I don’t want to do it professionally. It’s just a hobby. I love doing it because it keeps me in shape and because I need at least one extracurricular activity.”
I hum. “When’s your next game? I’ll come watch.”
Aria’s eyes light up in excitement, but in true defiant teenage manner, she masks it with indifference, shrugging. Looking at her now, she looks like a normal teenager and not like a daughter of two assassins and someone who is a sniper in her free time.
“Next week,”
she says. “That’s why I’ve been practicing a lot more lately and haven’t been home as much. It’s an important game. Last time we played this school, they beat the crap out of us. I’m planning on evening out the score.”
Her phone buzzes, and she takes it out of her pocket. Her eyes skim through the message, and she sends a quick reply before locking the device and putting it on the table.
“Is everything alright?”
She nods. “It’s just Arlo, reminding me to grab him some bleach and a toner.”
“Wait, you bleach his hair? I always assumed he went to a professional.”
“Yeah, I do it,”
she nodded. “He bleached his hair for the first time on the day of Aunt Jane’s wedding, and it was her idea. Then, until she was killed, she was the one bleaching it for him. I started doing it when I was old enough.”
I pause for a moment. “Can I try it?”
Aria grins. “Absolutely. If you fry off his hair, I’ll pay you.”
A small chuckle slips past my lips, and I shake my head. “I’ll try not to fry his hair off. Somehow, I feel like he absolutely adores his hair, and neither you nor I will be let off the hook if we fuck it up.”
Aria laughs. “That’s true. But hey, if you do accidentally burn his hair, please send me a picture. I need more Arlo blackmail material.”
I pause. “More? So you have some already?”
A mischievous glint is in her eyes, and she smirks. She takes her phone back up, then starts scrolling through her gallery. She has a folder labeled Arlo, and the things I’m seeing are surreal. I barely hold in my laughter, finding the entire situation hilarious.
“How much money do you want to send me for all of those?”
“I don’t need your money,”
she shrugs. “I’ll just do it because I want to see him embarrassed.”
The rest of the morning flies by. Surprisingly, Aria’s cold exterior started to melt pretty quickly, and I couldn’t have imagined how much of a bubbly girl she is. She was speaking nonstop, always having a subject to speak on. She ended up sending me every blackmail material she had on Arlo, and I already developed a plan on how to use it.
Aria wasn’t kidding when she said she’d be including me in the family because that’s exactly how she made me feel – included. I’ve never had a sibling, but if I did, I think this is what it would be like to have a younger sister. Someone like Aria is very hard not to love. She’s cunning, even a little manipulative, but she has a heart of gold underneath the masks of indifference and the walls she’s built.
And I’m grateful she decided to let me see her for who she truly is.
–
The atmosphere is light, as if we don’t have an entire war ahead of us.
Noelle’s in the kitchen, baking chocolate chip cookies and a batch of brownies. The entire place smells delicious, and she’s even humming a soft tune. Her apron is in a deep shade of red, with a lot of small knives embroidered on it. Very fitting.
She slices up the brownies and sets aside one piece. She puts it on a small plate carefully, then pours a very, very generous amount of strawberry syrup on top of it. A smirk tugs on the corner of her lips, and she nods to herself.
I’ve never seen anyone put strawberry syrup on brownies.
“Who’s the piece for?”
I ask, sitting on one of the high stools at the kitchen counter, sipping on some coffee.
“My husband,”
she answers, but the tone of her voice sends chills down my spine. It sounds almost ominous, and the way she’s smirking at the piece of brownie makes me a little uncomfortable. I decide not to press further and look away, glancing out of the window.
Aria and Hudson are outside, playing volleyball. It’s almost too cold for me to even think of going out, and seeing them in just a long-sleeved shirt with nothing on top makes me shudder. They’re laughing and chatting, and I can’t help the pang of jealousy that courses through my body.
My stepfather was a monster, and I never knew my real one. Even when I begged my mother for any sort of information on him, she just wouldn’t tell me. She told me that a worthless whore like me never deserved to know the truth – I never even got the name.
At times, I wondered what it would be like to have at least one loving parent. Now, while watching how much Hudson loves his daughter, I’m wondering what my life would’ve been like had I known my father.
Would he act toward me like Hudson acts with Aria? Would we have that special bond that I’ve heard stories of? Would he love and care for me? Or would he turn out just like my mother and stepfather?
With a deep breath, I take another sip of the coffee, forcing my gaze from the two. The espresso tastes bitter on my tongue, and that’s exactly how I like it. It’s the only kind of coffee I’ve ever liked, and Noelle makes some amazing coffee.
I feel a hand on my shoulder, and I turn my head to the side, placing the cup down. A warm smile spreads on my face when I see Arlo looking at me with that beaming grin of his. He looks like such a boy, a stark contrast to his dangerous and murderous tendencies.
“Hey, butterfly,” he muses.
“Hi.”
He chuckles and presses a soft, lingering kiss on top of my head. The closer he gets to me, the more of his scent I can smell. It fills all of my senses, my shoulders relaxing immediately as the safety and comfort of him surrounds me.
“I’ll let you rest today.”
“What? Why?”
“Firstly, you’re too sore,”
he chuckles, stepping behind me and wrapping his arms around me. He rests his chin on top of my head, looking out the window. “And secondly, I want our first lessons on how to shoot a gun to be as soon as you wake up in the morning.”
“Any particular reason?”
Almost subconsciously, I lean back into his chest, and he tightens his hold on me slightly.
“If you learn how to shoot in your most vulnerable, haziest state, you’ll get the hang of it quicker,”
he pauses. “Or at least, that’s what I think. There’s no scientific proof to back it up, just my thoughts.”
I hum. “Alright, whatever you say.”
For a while, we remain like that in silence. My fingers trail soft patterns on his forearm, both of us watching as Hudson and Aria continue to laugh, with Noelle’s loud follow-up as she steps outside, yelling for both of them to get inside.
“Your parents truly love each other.”
Arlo chuckles, his chest vibrating behind me. “They do.”
“She even set aside a piece of the brownies and added a lot of strawberry syrup on top of it.”
Arlo tenses for a moment before he bursts out laughing. His deep laughter rings in my ears, my heart skipping a beat. The beautiful melody makes me break into a smile, though I’m confused at the reaction.
“Ah, it just means he messed up, and that’s her way of dealing with his bullshit.”
“I’m not following.”
He chuckles, shaking his head. “Dad’s allergic to strawberries – anything strawberry, really. The fruit, juice, ice cream, and syrup.”
“That’s… messed up.”
He snorts. “Is it? Or is it more messed up that each and every time Mom pulls this stunt, he eats it willingly?”
With a deep sigh, I let it go. I’ve realized that no matter how much I try to understand the family dynamics, I’ll never be fully able to grasp just how their minds work, and I’ve decided not to even try anymore. It’s useless.
“That’s true.” I hum.
Arlo lets go of me, and I almost whine at the loss of the contact. He spins me in the high stool, facing me. He puts his hands on each side of me on the kitchen counter, effectively caging me in. A small smile is on his lips, but there’s a serious undertone that lingers in his eyes.
“How are you doing, really?”
He asks, and I pause.
I purse my lips for a moment, thinking hard for a few seconds before sighing.
“A little overwhelmed, tired, and my entire body is sore. But overall, I’m hanging in there.”
He brushes a strand of my hair, pinning it behind my ear, and leaves his hand there for a moment before pulling it slightly back, cupping my cheek, and rubbing soft, soothing circles on my skin.
“Anything else?”
He murmurs softly.
“It’s just…”
I pause, taking a small intake of air. “I’m scared I’ll freeze up again. I’m scared that all of my strength is nothing but a facade that will crumble when I come face to face with them. I’m scared I’ll be the reason we fail.”
My eyes fall to the floor, and I fiddle with my fingers on my lap. Truth be told, I’m absolutely terrified that I’ll end up causing them not to find Luna. As much as I want Simmons and Adams dead, so do they. And I’m scared Arlo will blame me if Luna isn’t found alive.
“Hey,”
he says, voice gentle as he tenderly puts his fingers under my chin, lifting it up. “Look at me.”
My eyes fall on his, and I can’t read what he’s thinking. I hate how good he is at concealing his thoughts and how he can turn his usually expressive eyes into two cold stones. It’s almost unreal how good he is.
“If we fail, which we won’t, it won’t be because of you. Alright?”
He steps closer, standing in between my legs. “No matter what, my goal has been and will forever be to keep you safe. There’s nothing you can do that will mess this up because you’re not alone. My parents are right behind you; I’m right behind you. My entire existence revolves around yours, Blair. I vow to you, I won’t allow you to get scared. I’ll give you all of my power and let you use it.”
My breath hitches in my throat, and I’m unable to speak. The sheer intensity and sincerity of his words go straight to my brain, and I’m unable to focus on anything else. His existence revolves around my own; he’ll give me all of his power.
“Don’t overthink it,”
he takes my hand in his, pulling it to his lips and pressing a kiss to my knuckles. “You’re much stronger than you give yourself credit for, and I won’t let you doubt your skills. You’ve been training for such a short amount of time, but your dedication and inner strength are showing. In fact, you’re far better than half of the people we bring in to train.”
I chuckle. “I just have quick reflexes. Prison does that to you.”
He smiles. “And as terrible as this will sound, it’s good that you have quick reflexes. You’re smart and quick on your feet. It’s good. You’re good. You’ll get even better before D-day.”
“Do we know when D-day will be, exactly?”
Arlo shakes his head. “No. Dad will finalize the team by the end of next week, and that’s when we’ll gather again and speak about the plan in fine details.”
I nod.
“Now,”
Arlo pulls me to my feet. “Aria says you want to bleach my hair?”
I smile. “If you’ll let me.”
He gives me a boyish grin, eyes cackling. “Always, my butterfly.”