“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 stillherlife. 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.
SEVEN
My hands are trembling, and I’m terrified. All eyes are on me, unblinking, their bodies unmoving. They’re waiting for me to speak, to do anything other than stare at them blankly, as if there’s not a single thought inside of my head.
If only that were true.
