Chapter 6
SIX
Blair’s soft body is molded against me. She snuggles further into my chest, and I tighten my grip on her, holding her as close as humanly possible. My free hand is tracing patterns all over her back, almost absentmindedly. All I need is to be touching her at all times, in any way she lets me.
I was awake most of the night, the thoughts keeping me awake. She didn’t have a nightmare last night, and as much as it brings me joy to know that, I also find it extremely weird. That kind of trauma, those kinds of night terrors don’t just go away on their own.
As much as I’d want to believe it’s because of me, I know better. My presence might be calming her down, and keeping the demons at an arms length, but those pesky little things always find a way in.
Something’s telling me I haven’t been keeping my eyes on Blair as much as I should've in recent times, and that changes today. If there’s something serious going on, and I don’t find out in time, I’ll never forgive myself if something happens to her again.
“Good morning, Baby.”
My heart all but melts when she calls me that. I kiss the top of her head, my lips lingering there for a moment longer. “Morning, Butterfly. How did you sleep?”
“I slept well,” she mutters, her voice oozing with sleepiness. A very adorable sight, her nose slightly scrunched. She pulls the covers all the way up to her neck, her cheek pressed against my chest. “Is the meeting today?”
“Yes,” I hum. “Noon.”
“Okay.”
“You need to be there,” I say, choosing my next words carefully. “This has everything to do with you, you’ll be the one calling the final shots.”
“Alright,” she accepts it with ease, and I can’t help but feel relieved. “I’ll come with you.”
“We still have some time before we need to get there. What would you like for breakfast?”
Blair peels her eyes open, staring at me with excitement in those deep brown eyes. They twinkle a little, and a small smile tugs on the corners of her lips. “Can I ask for anything?”
I laugh. “Always, Butterfly.”
“Alright then,” she pauses, pondering on her options. “How about some pancakes, an egg, bacon, and freshly squeezed orange juice?”
“Oh, so now you want to work me to death?” I deadpan, and she rolls her eyes. “Kidding. Of course. You relax a little, and I’ll go prepare everything.”
She whimpers in protest when I toss the covers off me, trying to grab onto me. It makes me smile, seeing her all needy for me.
“I need to get up to actually be able to cook for you, Butterfly.”
“But, I don’t want you to go,” she whines, gripping my elbow.
“Then get dressed and come with me.”
“Fine,” she mutters under her breath, yet I catch every word. “And here I thought I’d be able to sleep in.”
“So dramatic,” a chuckle escapes me. “I can’t exactly go and cook for you if you don’t let me get out of bed, Butterfly.”
“Fine, fine, I get it,” she sighs. “I’ll get dressed and be there in a moment.”
With a smile, and another quick peck to her soft lips, I get out of the bed. I toss on the first pair of sweats and a shirt that I manage to find, both in a deep shade of grey, then walk into the kitchen. It’s small, much smaller than I’d want it to be, but it does the job.
One day, when all of this is over, I’ll get the biggest and best kitchen known to mankind, so I can cook for my butterfly every single day. That woman will not have to do a single day of cooking, or cleaning in her life. Not so long as she’s with me.
After prepping the eggs, slicing the bacon as thinly as possible, and squeezing out some orange juice to her taste, I turn the stove on, tossing the eggs into the pan, and adding her favorite seasonings.
Soft, almost silent footsteps hit my ears, and a smile graces my lips when I turn around and see my pretty girl. She’s dressed in a pair of leggings, and a dark hoodie on top. It’s one of my hoodies, well, it was mine. Now, half of my wardrobe belongs to her.
Blair approaches me without saying anything, wrapping her arms around my waist. “Mmm, it smells so good in here.”
The muttered, hushed words make my chest flutter.
She always compliments my cooking, and the fact that she means it every single time just makes me so much more grateful for her.
Meeting Blair was a total coincidence. Seeing her in that prison, in such a vulnerable state brought out this desire to protect her and she’s been on my mind since.
There’s no chance in hell that I’ll never let her slip out of it.
She’s consumed me thoroughly, wholeheartedly and entirely.
I exist to be hers. I breathe to serve her and ensure she’s nothing short of the happiest woman alive.
“Yeah?” I smile. “Take a seat, it’ll be done soon.”
“Okay,” she kisses my chest, and it takes all my inner strength not to bend her over the counter and have my way with her.
But she’s hungry, and that comes first. Blair sits on the high chair, her feet dangling in the air while she watches me finish up her eggs.
I plate it all up for her as neatly as possible, because if I’ve realized one thing about her during the time we’ve spent together, it’s that she hates her food touching on the plate.
So, I make sure there’s enough room between eggs, bacon, and pancakes, just how she likes it.
“Thank you,” she beams, picking up the fork and taking a bite immediately.
“Easy there. It’s still hot.”
“It’s fine,” she shrugs, grabbing a mouthful of pancakes, chewing on it and swallowing in record time.
I’m beyond happy that her appetite is slowly returning to normal, and the fact that she’s managed to gain weight in such a short amount of time, makes me feel proud of myself.
It means I am doing my job right and taking care of her needs.
“Once you’re done, we’ll have to head out,” I grab my phone, checking the time. “Aria will be waiting for us, and everyone will already be seated at the table.”
“Am I sitting at the table, too?”
“Well, you could always sit on my lap if you’re uncomfortable sitting by yourself.”
A beat of silence passes, and Blair’s cheeks start to get a pink tint. She clears her throat, though the joke clearly got to her. I can’t help the smirk that forms on my face.
“That’s never happening,” she retorts, and I pout. “Be serious for a moment, would you?”
I quirk an amused brow. “I’d say you’ve earned your spot at the table a while ago, don’t you think so?”
“Maybe,” she lifts a shoulder. “But I don’t know if everyone in the inner circle would agree with that.”
A small, bitter chuckle escapes me. “Let me make something perfectly clear, Butterfly,” I walk around the counter, stopping right in front of her.
Gently, I use my index finger to bring her chin upward, forcing her eyes to meet mine.
“If anyone in there disagrees with my decision, they can come to me. They’ll die on the spot because I won’t compromise on anything when it comes to you.
This meeting is about your involvement in this whole ordeal, as well as the business as a whole.
You’re my person, Blair. You’re there with me.
If anyone rejects you, they’re rejecting me and trust me, no one’s brave enough to challenge me like that.
” Making sure she hears the sincerity in my voice.
“Woah, erm. OK” she mutters. “It looks like I’m finally getting to meet the Ghost everyone’s been raving about.”
“Oh, Butterfly,” I mumble, inching a little closer. My breath fans her lips, and her eyes darken a shade at the proximity. “You don’t want to meet the Ghost. You wouldn’t like him.”
“Is that so?” She licks her bottom lip, eyes dipping down to my own. “And if I end up liking him?”
“That’ll only inflate my already enormous ego.”
“Is that even possible?” she says with a small chuckle.
I roll my eyes. “Very much, yes. No one’s stroked my ego for quite some time.”
“I apologize for neglecting your oh-so fragile ego,” she drawls out, voice filled with mockery. “But I am rather excited to meet the Ghost. I’ve known who you are for a long time now, and yet… I’m yet to meet the infamous nightmare of New York City.”
“You’ll get the opportunity to meet him very, very soon. I’m just scared you won’t like what you see.” I say, a hint of insecurity creeping out between my words.
Blair cups my cheek with one palm, stroking it with her thumb in soft, circular motions. Her eyes never leave mine, and there’s no trace of uncertainty, doubt, or even dishonesty within the depth of her brown gaze.
“Never, Arlo,” she speaks, the voice reeking with confidence and certainty. “I love you for who you are. I’ve accepted you for exactly who you are. It won’t change if I see the dark side of you, Arlo. In fact, I’ll only love you more for trusting me to see it.”
“I just don’t want you to see the violence that the Ghost represents.”
“I’ve been living in a world that’s been built on violence. It’s because of you that I got to learn that even the darkest, most deranged place can feel like home. Your violence is my safety. Your demons are my saviors.”
Her words strike a cord deep within me. It’s fucked up.
It’s everything I’ve been wanting to shield her from and so much more.
Yet, I’m finally coming down with the realization that no matter what Blair’s gone through in her life, it’s still her life.
The power is all hers, and it’s her choice whether she’ll stay after seeing me at my worst.
And she’s continuously choosing to stay.
She’s choosing me.
“Fuck, Butterfly,” I groan, my lips brushing against hers. “You have no idea how much this means to me. You have no idea how much you mean to me.”
“I know,” she smiles. “You don’t have to say it, Arlo. I can feel it every single day.”
I lean in, pressing my lips against hers firmly. And of course it’s in this fucking moment that my phone decides to ring, making me snap out of the moment. Blair sighs, slowly pulling back. She continues to eat, after offering me a small apologetic smile.
Without even looking at the caller ID, I pick up the phone and put the device against my ear.
“Arlo De Santis speaking.”
“Good morning Mr De Santis, we’re calling from the Rikers Island facility.”
My heart sinks to my feet. It’s the prison where Dad’s been locked up. A lump forms in my throat, and with a deep breath, I force myself to remain calm, and to keep my voice steady.
“Yes?”
“We’re terribly sorry to inform you but Hudson De Santis has passed away.”
Everything around me stills. Like someone pressed a pause button, and nothing seems to be moving around me.
My ears start ringing, as if I’d just been in a massive explosion, and the words get stuck in my throat.
My heart beat starts thumping violently against my ribcage, threatening to leap straight out.
It’s painful, the kind of emotional agony that manifests as physical.
I can barely see what’s in front of me, and Blair’s worried expression barely registers in my mind.
How the hell did this happen?
He was fine yesterday.
Fuck, it was just yesterday that he promised Aria he’d be alright.
“How?”
The word slips from my mouth. It pains my tongue, yet it rolls off with practiced ease, as if nothing’s wrong. All I can focus on is the monotone, almost robotic voice on the other side of the phone call, offering no words of comfort.
“He was attacked in his cell, and stabbed in his chest four times. We did everything we could, but unfortunately, he succumbed to his wounds.”
My throat closes up, and it’s like my lungs can no longer function properly. There’s no air, there’s nothing I can do except struggle to breathe, feeling like my entire life is crashing down — because it is.
Hudson De Santis is dead.
The man I spent my entire life looking up to, the man who taught me that family is more than just blood. The same man who was so stern with me because he wanted to see me succeed, yet showed me that men can be gentle, tender and emotionally mature.
My father is dead.
There’s no coming back from this.
Where Dad goes, Mom follows.