Kaya blinks, a baffled expression taking over her features. “What? Silas Michaelis? What do you need him for?”
I take a deep breath, clutching my hands into fists. “Look, to get all of this fucking chaos under control, we need to get rid of Paul Simmons.”
Kaya nods. “Yes, let’s kill the motherfucker.”
I chuckle. “I’m the first one who wants to kill him, trust me. But that’s not how we’re doing this. See, Hudson’s been transported to prison earlier today. He went there willingly.”
“Okay,” Kaya’s voice is laced with skepticism. “How does that correlate?”
“Find me the phone, and you’ll see.”
It’s like a lightbulb appears over her head, and she takes her phone and calls Noelle. It’s silent until I can hear a faint ringtone sound somewhere far in the corner. Kaya stands up, then takes a few steps forward. She opens the box, pushes her hand inside, then pulls the phone out with a wide grin.
“Here,’’ she tosses it to me, and I catch it with ease.
Kaya returns to my side while I look through the contacts, stopping when I find the one I’ve been looking for. She’s silent,observing me like this is her favorite show. It takes three rings before the person picks up the phone.
“Yes?”
“Agent Michaelis,” I clear my throat. “Noelle Campbell speaking.”
The fire in the fireplace is crackling, giving its signal of life. I’m sitting on the armchair in front of it, enjoying the night, tightly wrapped in a soft blanket, with Arson purring in my lap. Softly, I stroke her back, and she meows before falling right back to sleep.
The snow continues to fall outside, the harsh wind blowing. The softness of the blanket and the warmth of the fireplace manage to give me peace of mind, even if for a little bit. It’s been too much for me to handle, and I’m mentally preparing myself for the shitshow that’s about to go down.
The one I caused.
My heart squeezes tightly, the pain manifesting as a physical ache. I miss Arlo more than words can describe, and no one wants to tell me anything. Aria’s been brushing me off, Cove acts like I’m trying to pull the tongue out of his mouth, and anyone else either acts oblivious or pretends they don’t hear me.
The plan I’ve come up with isn’t smart. In fact, it’s probably one of the stupidest things I ever could’ve done. But right now, I’m all alone. I need to do something, because acting like a sitting duck begging to be shot isn’t working anymore.
The fears, the irrational parts of my brain, all scream at me to run as far as my feet would carry me. To make sure no one else ever finds me. And quite frankly, a small, modest cottage in the middle of nowhere would suffice.
But the love for Arlo and his family — our family — iswhat’s keeping me grounded. They did so much for me, gave me a place I can truly call home, and treated me like one of their own without a second thought. It’s time for me to act the part and give back for everything they’ve done for me.
Earlier today, I visited Noelle. Her state remains unchanged, and seeing her lying in the hospital bed, with machines attached to her, hurts a lot. She’s grown slimmer, or perhaps it’s my mind playing tricks on me. She’s too pale, and the fact that her state isn’t improving is worrying me deeply.
I tried sneaking in to see Arlo, too. The fact that we’ve been apart for three weeks now is making me grow angrier as the days go by. Aria’s right, in a sense. He needs to get his shit together and return to us healthy. But the wait is what’s making me miserable. I miss my perfect, beautiful boy.
“Blair,’’ Aria’s voice cuts through the silence like a knife. I straighten up in my seat but make no attempt to look over my shoulder to see her or move from my spot. Her footsteps near, and she sits in the armchair across from me. “What the fuck did you do?”
“It needed to be done.” I keep my voice steady, refusing to look her in the eye. Instead, I keep my gaze firmly on the fireplace, the dancing of the flames soothing the anxiety that bubbles inside me.
“Have you lost your goddamn mind?” With each word, Aria’s voice rises. It’s a mix between shock, anger, and something else that I can’t exactly pinpoint. “Why the fuck would you do something like that without consulting me?”
“Because this doesn’t concern you, Aria.”
Aria pauses. “Excuse me? It’s none of my concern?”
Just as I’m about to respond, she stands up from the armchair, looking at me with gritted teeth. Arson, sensing the sudden rise in tension, jumps off my lap and walks out of the room. The silence is deafening, and the look Aria’s giving me isn’t helpingme, either.
“Look, Aria—”
“No,” she cuts me off, hands fisting by her body. “Do you even realize what it took for us to get him? Do you know how hard we — no, how hard Arlo had to work to find, save you and, at the same time, set up a trap to capture Paul? Do you honestly not see the fault in what you’ve done?”
“I have a plan, Aria. I didn’t just let Paul Simmons go.”
She pauses, looking at me skeptically. The anger simmers underneath the surface, the fire in her eyes intensifying. However, she does unclench her fists, taking a few steps toward me. Then, she flops on the floor, sitting on the soft carpet. Her back’s turned to the fireplace, blocking the warmth.
