Chapter Three #2
Arlo shot him a look. “Shut up.”
Seb sighed, stretching out his legs. “So, what’s the next move?”
Arlo considered their options. Their best lead had vanished into the night, and their window to shut this operation down was closing fast. They needed intel, fast.
His mind flicked through a list of possible contacts before settling on one name.
Luis Ortega. A low-level supernatural fixer who had been one of Arlo’s best informants back when he worked for the Miami PD.
Luis had his hands in all sorts of shady business: illegal fights, smuggling, underground gambling.
If something big was happening in the supernatural world, chances were he had heard about it first.
Arlo didn’t waste time. He pulled out his phone and dialed.
The line rang twice before a gravelly voice answered. Arlo would have recognized that voice anywhere, and was relieved to discover that Luis hadn’t changed his number.
“Ortega,” Arlo said by way of greeting.
A pause. Then, a dry chuckle. “Damn, I didn’t think I’d ever hear from you again, Harrison. What, Miami PD dumb enough to take you back?”
Arlo smirked. “Not even if they begged.”
Another chuckle. “So, what do you want, man? I don’t deal in favors these days.”
Arlo’s expression darkened. “I need intel. The trafficking ring operating out of the Miami docks, do you know anything?”
Silence.
Then, a low curse. “Shit. Do you know what will happen to me if I get involved in that?”
Arlo’s grip on the phone tightened. “So you do know something.”
Luis exhaled sharply. “Yeah. I know something.”
“And are you going to tell me?”
After a beat, Ortega sighed. “Yeah, I’ll tell you, and for once, I don’t want anything in return.”
That caught Arlo off guard. Luis never gave out information for free. Ever.
“Since when do you play charity?” he asked, skeptical.
Another beat passed before Luis answered, his voice lower this time. “Since I got kids of my own, man. I don’t care what kind of dirt someone’s in, you don’t mess with kids. And these assholes? They’re worse than the scum I used to deal with.”
Arlo’s shark growled in agreement.
This was what made Luis different from the other criminals in Miami. He had lines he wouldn’t cross. And child trafficking? Apparently, that was one of them.
“So, tell me what you know,” Arlo pressed.
Luis hesitated. “Not over the phone. I sure as hell don’t trust that I’m not being recorded. We do this in person.”
Arlo didn’t even hesitate. “Where?”
“The usual place. Benny’s.”
Arlo exhaled. Benny’s was a hole-in-the-wall dive bar in South Beach that had quiet seating out back where criminals, cops, and informants like Luis could drink in peace.
“Tomorrow night. Eight,” Luis said. “Don’t be late because if I’m talking, that means I’m taking a risk.”
The line went dead.
Arlo pocketed his phone and looked up to see the entire team watching him.
Ezra arched a brow. “We going drinking?”
Arlo smirked. “Nah. I’m going drinking. You all are staying here.”
Logan frowned. “Why would we do that?”
“Because my guy won’t talk if he thinks there’s an audience,” Arlo said simply. “And right now, I need information more than I need backup.”
Carter stirred uneasily. “You sure about this?”
Arlo grabbed his jacket off the chair and headed for the door.
“Yeah. I trust Ortega about as far as I can throw him, but I’ll be careful.
I’m going to spend the night at my condo.
I’ll call you tomorrow after the meet. If anything goes wrong, you’ll be the first to know.
If you guys learn anything more in the meantime, you know where to find me. ”
Ezra sighed dramatically, leaning back against the couch. “Fine. But if you get shot, I call dibs on your motorcycle.”
Arlo rolled his eyes. “Noted,” he said unable to keep the grin off his lips.
“Call your mate!” Max called out before Arlo could get to the door.
“Bite me,” he returned sourly.
All six men chuckled.
Without another word, Arlo stepped out into the night and headed for the condo he’d bought years ago.
He’d thought about renting it out, but his parents always had a house full of people and Arlo liked somewhere quiet he could retreat to when he came to visit.
He was exhausted, but he suspected sleep would be hard to come by, especially when the memory of a certain feisty dolphin shifter kept trying to force its way into his mind.
The drive to his parents’ house the following morning was one Arlo could have done with his eyes closed.
The winding coastal road, the scent of salt in the air, the occasional glimpse of the ocean through the thick palms lining the streets—it was all ingrained in his bones, a part of him as much as the water itself.
His family home sat on the edge of a private stretch of beach, the kind of place where a man could shift into his shark form and swim for hours without another soul seeing him.
The house itself was a masterpiece of modern architecture, all glass walls and sleek angles, blending seamlessly with the surrounding landscape.
It was his mother’s dream house. His father had built it for her after retiring from investment banking, a job he’d been incredibly good at.
Arlo pulled into the driveway, cutting the engine before stepping out. Morning sunlight glittered off the waves, the rhythmic crash of the tide a welcome sound. He should have been at ease here. Home was supposed to feel safe. Familiar.
But something sat wrong inside him.
It had sat wrong all damn night.
The mate bond was a gnawing presence in his chest, clawing at him every time he tried to push it aside. He hadn’t slept. Had barely eaten. His shark had been restless, frustrated, and demanding.
Go to her. Find her. Claim her.
Arlo ignored the inner dialogue and walked up to the house.
The front door opened before he even had a chance to knock.
His mother stood there, barefoot on the porch, her silver-streaked dark hair pulled into a loose braid over one shoulder.
Despite the faint wrinkles at the corners of her eyes, she was still striking, a woman who carried herself with the same quiet grace that had always set her apart.
She was a shark shifter, too, but a reef shark unlike Arlo’s father who was a Great White. Arlo had taken after his father.
His mother studied him for all of two seconds before narrowing her eyes.
“Oh, no,” she said, arms crossing. “Whatever that face is, I don’t like it.”
Arlo sighed. “Morning, Ma.”
“Don’t you ‘Morning, Ma’ me.” She stepped back, motioning him inside. “Something’s wrong. I can see it all over you.”
Arlo snorted, stepping into the cool, open space of the house. The walls of windows overlooked the ocean, and he caught a glimpse of his father already out on the back deck, staring at the horizon like he always did before he went for a swim.
“I’m fine,” Arlo lied.
His mother scoffed, following him toward the kitchen. “You were always the worst liar. And you know how I feel about you lying to your mother.”
Arlo huffed out a quiet laugh. “That it’s an offense punishable by death?”
She smiled sweetly. “Exactly.”
Arlo shook his head, grabbing a bottle of water from the fridge before leaning against the counter.
His mother watched him for a long moment, then tilted her head. “Arlo.”
He sighed. That was the tone. The one that meant you might as well just say it, because I’m going to get it out of you anyway.
He rubbed a hand over his face, suddenly exhausted in a way that had nothing to do with sleep deprivation.
“I met my mate,” he admitted.
His mother’s eyes lit up.
“Arlo!” she gasped, crossing the kitchen in record time to grab his face between her hands. “Oh my God! That’s wonderful!”
Arlo blinked at her. “Jesus, Ma, let me breathe.”
She ignored him, grinning ear to ear. “Who is she? Do I know her? When do I get to meet her?”
“Slow down,” Arlo said, extricating himself from her hold. “I didn’t even plan on telling you.”
His mother scoffed. “You can’t not tell me something like this. A mate, Arlo? That’s huge.”
His father chose that moment to step inside from the deck, brows raised. “What’s huge?”
Arlo hesitated, but his mother practically vibrated with excitement as she turned to her husband.
“He met his mate,” she announced.
His father’s brows shot up. “That so?”
Arlo sighed. “Yeah.”
His dad studied him for a moment, then nodded. “That’s good news, son.”
His mother was still beaming, but after a few seconds, her expression shifted. “Wait.” She narrowed her eyes at Arlo. “Why do you still look like you swallowed a lemon? Shouldn’t you be happier about this?”
Arlo tensed. Maybe he should open up. Didn’t his parents deserve to know the circumstances, that things weren’t likely to work out well? His mother, especially. She shouldn’t get her hopes up over this
The sound of a car pulling into the driveway had him snapping his mouth shut. He glanced over his shoulder and swore under his breath.
“Who’s that?” his mother asked, craning her neck toward the window.
Arlo sighed. “Jesse.”
His mother lit up all over again. “Jesse and Bella are here? And the kids?”
As if on cue, the front door swung open, and Jesse Harrison strode inside.
Arlo’s older brother was as put-together as ever, dressed in slacks and a crisp button-down, looking every bit the successful businessman he was.
Behind him, his mate Bella walked in with a toddler on her hip, while two more kids ran ahead, giggling as they bolted straight for their grandmother. Then they noticed him and their eyes widened with excitement.
“Uncle Arlo!” they chorused making a beeline for him instead.
Arlo beamed, bending down to greet them. “Well, if this isn’t the best surprise ever. Look how tall you’ve both grown! Wow, you’ll be as tall as me in couple more months I reckon.”
His niece giggled. “We won’t be that big, silly.”
Jesse smirked as he clapped Arlo on the shoulder. “What, no warm welcome for your favorite brother?”
“You’re my only brother,” Arlo deadpanned.
Bella shifted the toddler on her hip. “Hey Arlo, good to see you.”