Thank you for all for the love & reviews! I'm so glad so many of y'all are enjoying my work! I apologize for the delay (silly holidays), but please enjoy this latest offering!
Oneagemtron – thanks for the suggestion! You will see shades of your idea below, tweaked to suit my own nefarious purposes.
Hope you enjoy!
xxx
Chapter 12: Rust
A Black Dodge Charger cut through the night, winding its way up the occasionally icy interstate, going well over the speed limit. Ariadne had long lost track of the hour. She couldn't even say how long they'd been in the car. All she really knew was that it was some ungodly hour in the morning before dawn. She barely remembered their arrival at the rental car place, signing paperwork and each disappearing to the bathroom to clean up before hitting the road. She did, however, remember the jealousy that washed over her as she watched Arthur emerge, contacts in, hair smoothed in place, clothes tidy, while she stood there feeling like a sloppy drowned rat. Rolling her head on the head rest, she squinted over at Arthur, jealousy from earlier resurfacing. He looked as cool and collected as ever, the dark circles under his eyes now accented by the dash lights the only evidence of anything amiss.
"How are you alright to drive this fast?" She asked, breaking the comfortable silence. "Isn't it icy out?"
"I learned how to drive on these roads. They're only completely clear four months out of the year."
"But," she countered with a yawn, "so much of driving depends on how the car handles. How can you possibly be comfortable enough with this rent car to go as fast as you are on these patchy icy roads."
"The suspension of this car is rated similar to the A5, hence why I was particular about the car we rented. A downgrade, to be sure, but manageable."
"Manageable? That doesn't sound like—" He suddenly swerved the car in a squeal of tires, her body crashing into the center console, startled yelp leaving her. Hands flailing, she reached for the handle on the door, bracing herself as Arthur jerked the car back over into their lane. Adrenaline instantly coursed through her, eyes wide as she turned to Arthur, sudden panic in her eyes.
"What the hell was that!"
"Moose." If she wasn't on the verge of falling apart, she would have laughed. She stared at him in shock as he sat still ever so calm, so composed…hadn't the man just suddenly swerved to avoid a moose? A simple, fucking moose? Her eyes sunk closed, a shaky hand rising to her forehead.
"I-I can't...god, I—. " She stumbled over the words, unable to form a coherent thought in her mind to put in words. She glanced back at her husband from under her hand, almost angry he was so unaffected by everything. "How do you do it?"
"Do what?"
"Nothing fazes you. It's as if you know what's going to happen so nothing surprises you—you never lose your edge, or show panic, fear, doubt, confusion."
"I wouldn't be very good at my job if I did." She shook her head annoyed.
"It makes me so damn jealous…I'm jumping at every little sound, scared to close my eyes, and you sit there like we're on an everyday road trip." She sighed, sleepily. "What I wouldn't give to be like you."
"I wouldn't want you to be like me. Only one of us needs to die of a heart attack before fifty." His voice was soft with some hint of truth and mirth.
"That's not funny." He scanned the horizon, searching for words.
"Truth is, you never get used to it. It's just an adjustment to a whole new way of thinking, of trying to survive," he recalled Eames' words, knowing them to be true, "you'll come to find survival is a remarkable instinct."
"Survival…yes, yes…from former employers, snipers, moose…." She trailed off, hearing and loving his near silent laugh. What she wouldn't give to have the carefree days of their honeymoon back. Leisurely dinners over fabulous wine, days of swimming and lounging, nights of heated, undistracted passion. "So what's with you and your parents? You never talk about them, and I've had enough surprises lately." She prepared to fight him if he refused to talk.
"Simple story," he said, his voice detached, surprising her with his willingness, "my father never wanted children. My mother tricked him with her birth control to get me."
"Seriously?"
"That's not something you just make that up about yourself."
"But they seriously told you?"
"My father did. Sebastian's a master of lies, even more so than our dear friend Mr. Eames. He has my mother so wrapped up, that when he dropped the shitty truth on me, his hope was when I told her, she would grow to hate me. Well that didn't happen and she has kept living in her little blissful world."
"And you believe it when your dad told you, you were a mistake?"
"Unwanted, was his word. The 'successful chance of a lifetime' were my mother's." A laugh bubbled out of Ariadne's throat, a welcome release of tension as she quickly brought a hand to her mouth to silence herself, knowing it was wrong to laugh at his words.
"I'm sorry," she said after a breath, "I know that's really not funny…but, please continue."
"There's not much left to say really."
"Oh no, no, there is more than that, you can't stop talking just yet." A shade of her earlier annoyance crept back to her voice.
"What else do you want to know?" She rolled her head back to face him, studying the shadows on his face in the faint light, almost surprised he was suddenly willing to be so forthcoming.
"So your father didn't want you…so he, just what, ignored you?"
"Mostly, especially when I was younger. As I got older, he realized it was entertaining to tell me his true plans—namely fooling around with one of his mistresses—and then lie to my mother about it in front of me, knowing I was powerless to convince her otherwise. It was his house, his control, his rules, and he kept my mother happy and she had me, so she never questioned it."
"And your mom raised you by herself?"
"Convinced of her crusade that because I was essentially devoid of fatherly love, she would compensate. I've been mothered, hen-pecked and fussed over to last me a lifetime," hints of annoyance crept to his voice, "and it didn't stop when I got older. Going to college was liberating if only because I was alone for the first time in my life."
"Sounds like tensions were high last time you were home," Ariadne surmised, catching his hand tighten on the steering wheel, "and that was what, nine years ago?"
"Ten."
"What's stopped you from going back since?"
"The last time I was home, I confronted Sebastian about everything—the neglect, the lies, the affairs," he gave a quick shake of his head, lips curling to a grimace, "I threw the first punch, but didn't know what I was doing, so he got the final say."
"You got in a fight with your dad?" Her eyes widened. "He got you so riled that you wanted to fight him? And I thought only Eames had that ability….," she shook her head, "but you're always so in control."
"You didn't know me ten years ago. You wouldn't recognize me." Her face narrowed pensively, casting a sideways glance to him, eyes quickly running up and down his body.
"Well, I fell in love with the man you are, so I wouldn't say it's a bad thing that you changed." Again she caught his near soft laugh.
"That's comforting. Thank you." Silence resumed in the small space.
"So..," she started again, "he, or they, have no idea we're coming after all these years?"
"You've been with me every minute since we left New York, and we currently don't have a phone."
"Lovely." In any other situation, she would have been perfectly willing to put up with any awkward family drama in existence. Right now, all she wanted was to hide from the world in her husband's arms.
"I'm not so concerned about it, so please don't stress yourself out further. We'll have a nice breakfast when we get there and go straight to bed. I could use sleep now more than anything."
"Only if you're there to keep the nightmares away." She said with a yawn.
"Always." He reached a hand from the steering wheel over to grasp hers, bringing it to his lips for a quick kiss.
x
Soft lips fell to her cheek as her eyes fluttered open, greeted by a gray morning light. She couldn't keep the smile from curling about her lips, eyes falling closed as she felt Arthur brush another kiss against her cheek.
"Wake up, we're here." Slowly she opened her eyes, taking in the dreary morning light. The expansive, pristine lawn was veiled in the early light, a semi-circle driveway, on which they now sat, cutting through it to lead to the house. She reached for the door handle, stepping out in the chilly morning air, watching Arthur walk around to her side of the car.
"What about your bag?" She asked with a yawn.
"We'll get them later." He reached a hand to hers, gently leading her from the car over to a trellised entrance through a white fence with a path running alongside the house. The house was more of a mansion than anything, expansive and majestic with a stone front running along the first floor, and light gray wood siding on the upper stories, accented by pristine white shutters. The setting, even with a cloudy, overcast sky, was beyond beautiful, a glimpse of the ocean coming into view as they neared the back of the elegant house. She was suddenly jealous Arthur grew up in such a home.
"Your parents' home is lovely. Their whole lot is just breathtaking."
"Just as I remember it." Arthur's voice was neutral as usual, gravely now with exhaustion from driving all night. His hold on her hand tightened, the simple touch a welcome source of comfort as they came to a stop on the backside of the house, glancing out at the water, just able to hear the waves crashing against the shore.
"Excuse me! Excuse me, sir? This is private property." Arthur and Ariadne both turned at the sudden, incessant upper-class English voice, noticing an older man in a black suit and tie head their way. Arthur's face opened to a look of surprised recognition.
"Gerard?" He called out, already knowing it to be his family's long time butler. The older man stopped at the call, eyes narrowing to Arthur's face before a widening to a look of disbelief.
"Master Arthur?"
"Indeed Gerard. It's good to see you again." The butler's face lit up in an overjoyed smile.
"My word, young master—how wonderful it is to see you again!" Ariadne couldn't help the smile on her face at hearing the happiness and even love in the older man's voice. "Too many years have passed since you were last home."
"It has certainly been a while. You haven't aged a day." Even the warmth on Arthur's voice was surprising to Ariadne.
"And you should know better than to lie by now." Gerard's face fell to a look of playful scolding.
"Gerard, I'd like to introduce my wife, Ariadne." Arthur turned to her with a small smile.
"Delighted to meet you madam."
"You too." She offered with a warm smile.
"Oh, please forgive me, but it's so wonderful to have you both here," Gerard continued, his infectious smile growing, "I still remember the days of young master Arthur running these halls in training pants." They all shared a small warm laugh. "But I must apologize, nothing is prepared for your arrival. Your parents keep it a secret from us all."
"My parents don't yet know we're here." Gerard's face curled into a look of happy surprise.
"I'm sure they'll be overjoyed when they learn the news sir."
"Let's hope," Arthur said with a dismissive smile, "are they awake yet?"
"Not yet sir. In another hour or so. In the meantime, may I bring anything for you and the missus?"
"A light breakfast would be splendid—eggs, fruit, juice," Arthur said smoothly, "and then I think we'll retire for a time. We drove all night from New York."
"My word, sir. I'm glad you two arrived safely. I'll have Elsie make a room up right away, and have breakfast out shortly. Anything for you ma'am?" He inclined his head politely to Ariadne.
"The same as Arthur would be great. But, um, I would love a mug of hot tea, if I may."
"But of course ma'am. No trouble at all. Please, both of you, make yourselves at home. Breakfast will be waiting in the conservatory momentarily."
"Thank you Gerard." Arthur said with a warm smile as the older man bowed and turned, heading back for the house. Ariadne was almost speechless, a small pursed lip smile on her face. This just all seemed like too much to be true. She couldn't even believe less than twenty four hours ago she'd been wrapped around Arthur's body in the hotel, near panting his name only to be chased by men with guns down the street.
"Don't look so impressed." She returned from her thoughts, catching the hint of embarrassment on his voice, the faint smile now lingering about Arthur's lips.
"'Young master Arthur…," she said, rolling it off her tongue, shaking her head with an amused smile "boy, Eames would have a field day with that one."
"Indeed, and if he ever finds out, I will know who to blame." He glanced up towards the house, before turning back to her, the circles under his eyes prominent even in the low light. "Shall we?" She stepped up to him, sliding her hand back into his grasp as they started for the house.
"Is this typical weather for the east coast too?" She asked, a down note to her voice, glancing at the gloomy sky. "I can't remember the last time we saw sun."
"That's the beauty of coastal weather—it could clear up by noon or linger for the duration of our stay." A distant roll of thunder accented his words.
"Wonderful." They crossed the wide steps up to the back patio, entering the house through tall French doors, flanked by expansive windows. The house interior was pristine and elegant in shades of neutrals with spots of color, accented by dark wood trim. It was classy, sophisticated and cozy, though not as modern trending as Arthur's current tastes. They wandered silently through the open corridor, casting glances in the adjoining rooms, making out a TV room, billiards room, library.
"Amazing how some things never change." Arthur muttered as he moved them through an open door off to their right into a room wrapped in glass windows from floor to ceiling, a row of green plants running around the window walls, simple plush chairs pulled up to a glass table, vase of flowers in the middle. Her mouth started watering at the smell of food on the tray also on the table as she continued glancing around in awe.
"He wasn't kidding when he said food would be ready momentarily." She said, impressed with the quality looking food delivered in such short time as they moved to the table.
"My parents have never had a tolerance for waiting. They've had their house a smooth running, efficient machine for many years."
"Well that certainly explains some things about you." She didn't miss the small, near embarrassed lift in the corner of his lips as they took a seat, tucking into the food before them. Maybe it was the exhaustion or shot nerves, but never had she found such a simple bowl of scrambled eggs to taste so good or be so satisfying.
"Nothing like farm fresh eggs." Arthur said softly.
"Farm fresh?"'
"Probably from somewhere near Wells. They've always had the best." She couldn't help but smile as he talked. It was just so refreshing to see him open up, however plain the conversation. "The raspberries and blueberries were most likely grown only a few miles from here last summer, frozen though and thawed now."
"I would have never guessed you to have even a remotely working knowledge of anything agricultural."
"I wasn't lying when I said I assisted the groundskeeper for a summer." She paused, a smile coming to her face as she drifted back in memory to that delightful café.
"My consummate thief. Have you ever held a legitimate job before now?" He looked skyward, pensive.
"Assisted the groundskeeper for a summer when I was eleven." He loved the little laugh that left her.
"Now that I would love to see."
"Thank god you never will."
"I'm sure your mother has pictures."
"Let's hope it never comes to that."
"Where is he?" A pleasant, neutral voice echoed in the windowed conservatory, jarring Ariadne from her thoughts. She turned to where Arthur was now looking out into the high ceilinged living room towards a heavy wood, thickly carpeted staircase. A tall, thin woman in a flowing dressing gown with silver hair stood on the middle landing, her outline sharply accented against the big window of gray sky behind her. The soft muttering of a British voice could be heard, soon drowned out by a crack of thunder. Ariadne turned back to see Arthur rise, dropping his napkin to his chair, eyes locked to the woman. Ariadne kept her seat as Arthur moved for the living room, the sudden appearance of who she assumed to be his mother unnerving her more than she'd admit.
"Mother?" He called out softly, eyes narrowing.
"Is that really my Arthur? Come closer and let me look at you." She held out a hand as he slowly started up the carpeted steps, studying his mother. Her eyes shone with the same sparkle he remembered, the corners of her mouth crinkled the same way as always with her smile. Her hair was considerably more silver, but still fashionably styled, her skin just as pale as his. He didn't even realize he was smiling as he neared her. The smile fell from Eleanor Darren's face as her son crossed the remaining steps, replaced with confused curiosity.
"My boy, what have you done to yourself?" She questioned, darting a hand up to lightly grab his jaw, tilting his face in the pale morning light. "You…wear your hair differently, no more glasses….even your face looks different."
"Mother, please stop." Arthur said, a slight hint of annoyance on his voice, cheeks coloring as he gently pulled his mother's hand from his face, holding it loosely.
"I'm so glad you've finally come back home to let me take care of you again." Her smile returned as she looked up at him, turning slightly as movement in the conservatory caught her eye. Arthur watched the smile fall when she saw Ariadne, just as he'd expected. "What is that?"
"Please don't refer to my wife as a 'what.'" Arthur simply responded, his voice even despite the sudden look of pure shock on Eleanor's face.
"Your…wife?" She turned to him with wide eyes. "You gave away your name without our permission. She could be a nobody! Arthur, you were always such a good boy, how could you possib—"
"Mother, don't." Eleanor fell silent, taken aback at the firm, authoritative tone from her son who had never before dared to raise his voice to her, "please, let's not have this discussion now. I haven't slept in thirty-six hours, I have a lot on my mind and I don't want to get short with you." Eleanor pulled her hand back from his as though stung. "This gives you time to make peace with the idea before I introduce her to you, and I do hope you'll be civil. She means more to me than anyone, and it will make our stay a little bit easier."
"How long will you stay…with her?"
"I don't know how long yet we will be here, but I intend to stay with her as long as she'll have me." Eleanor's frown deepened, not getting the answer she wanted. "Go dress and enjoy the day. We'll reconvene later once she and I are better rested." Eleanor took a step back, amazed at how her son had changed. She struggled for words, her mouth falling closed as she turned to ascend the stairs, a hint of heartbreak flashing across her face. Swiftly he turned back down the stairs, surprised she had actually deferred to him. It was certainly a first.
Ariadne sat, silently curious as he returned to his seat.
"As I expected, she wasn't particularly pleased to learn about you." He softly said to which she nodded.
"Well from what you've told me, that makes sense."
"You'll meet her later today. I'm not currently fit to pursue it further at the moment." Professionally, he could push his body through anything—hunger, pain, exhaustion—but personally, when emotions were on the line, he didn't want to push it and risk losing control.
"I know, even though you're fighting now to show it, you're exhausted." She reached a hand to his arm comfortingly as she settled back to finish her tea, watching him finish the food before him. Why he had chosen for them to come here at a time like this was beyond her. Didn't he already have enough stress with Cobol? Was he trying to make peace in case the Cobol situation ended badly? Her heart suddenly sunk at thought of Arthur dying by Cobol's hand. Whether it was a simple missed shot or lousy timing, she knew they had been lucky in New York. After that episode, if Cobol has another chance at their lives, they won't miss. She swallowed hard, willing herself to stop thinking such heart wrenching thoughts. Both she and Arthur were alive for now, and that's what mattered.
xx
Arthur had left her safely ensconced in the library, wrapped in a warm blanket on a plush chaise lounge, book in hand. Two days had passed since their arrival in Maine, and Ariadne hadn't even seen Arthur's father yet. Meeting Eleanor wasn't really that awkward. She was surprisingly gracious and weary, seemingly more concerned about Arthur than her, which suited Ariadne fine. She didn't want to spend the next few days as a subject of Eleanor's attention.
It was clear she had missed her son, but wasn't entirely happy with him being back. She kept referring to the past—foods he liked, activities he enjoyed, time they spent together—to draw out the young man she had known ten years ago, only to find someone new inhabiting her son's skin. Her eyes were longing as she looked at him, as though wishing she could make him back into the little boy whose affections knew only her. Ariadne couldn't say she blamed Eleanor—it must be difficult to see your son become someone else, and having not seen him in ten years, the change was certain to be even more pronounced. And Arthur's usual, cool detached tone was doing nothing to help the situation, and at times, even came across as cruel. So Ariadne had found herself oddly in the middle. She sighed, turning a page in her book, not really paying the heavy creak of the library door any mind.
"So you're the young woman who will bear my grandchildren." Ariadne's eyes darted up from her book, watching the delicate Eleanor Darren ghost into the room, moving for a chair opposite her.
"Hopefully, someday." She hoped the smile on her face was genuine enough.
"Well I'm only getting older," Eleanor settled into a chair facing Ariadne, "and I would like to see my grandchildren at least once before I die. Given the rate Arthur visits, the next time will be my funeral."
"Oh, I think you underestimate him—"
"Don't presume you know my son better than me. I've known him for thirty years." Eleanor's gray eyes steeled, leveling with Ariadne's, her tone defensive. It sounded like a desperate attempt for her to admit she still knew something about him after all these years.
"I'm sorry," Ariadne forced a warm tone to her voice, recognizing the sharpness of Arthur's eyes in the woman before her, "I didn't mean to imply anything. But, um, we haven't really set a timeline for kids yet. We're both enjoying working, um, being newlyweds."
"Yes, yes," Eleanor said dismissively, "have your parents met him?"
"Yes."
"What do they think of him? Did they know the name?" Ariadne fought to keep the confusion from her face.
"His…last name?"
"Yes dear, what else?" The woman's incredulous voice brought a faint tinge of embarrassment to Ariadne's cheeks.
"They think he's a great guy…that I couldn't have found anyone better. And no, they didn't know the last name."
"Well I'm not surprised," Eleanor relaxed against the chair with a little smile, something of a warm tone coming to her voice, "it is a bit of a pity though he didn't find someone more befitting the Darren name. Yes, you're pretty enough, nice enough, but the Darren name is hardly one to give away on a whim." Ariadne's eyes widened at her words. Had the woman only come here to insult her?
"But with all respect," Ariadne started, trying to keep her tone civil, "you weren't a Darren by birth. What made you so worthy?"
"Dear girl, I was a Vassar—a family with great wealth, social stature and political influence—a perfect match for the Darrens."
"So you married for those reasons…did you love your husband?" A smile came to Eleanor's face.
"Yes…very much so. He was charming, handsome, debonair, everything I wanted."
"Then aren't you happy I have found the same in Arthur?"
"Your so called love for Arthur cannot compare to me and Sebastian," a thin smile came to Eleanor's face as Ariadne remembered Arthur's words about the lies and mistresses trying to keep her face neutral, "I only wish my son had found the same as us." Ariadne's brows furrowed.
"You wish your son had found love?"
"A perfect love."
"No love is perfect."
"Starting with yours."
"Is it not enough for you to know that we're happy?"
"While I can hope it lasts, I'm not optimistic."
"Are you the voice of experience?" Another distant smile crossed Eleanor's face.
"It's not like it used to be…he used to look at me with his dimpled smile, all the love in his heart only for me," Ariadne thought she noticed tears welling in the other woman's eyes, "but now…he's cold, a mere ghost of the boy I used to know. He…never talked back or raised his voice to me before." Ariadne hadn't been sure at first, but she was certain now they were talking about Arthur. "It happened to me, and I know it will happen to you…he'll wake up one day, and run out of your life. And if you're lucky to see him again, he won't be as you remember him."
"You think he ran away from you?" Just how much did this woman not know? Was she not aware of the supposed tension between Arthur and Sebastian years ago?
"And he came back with you."
"I wouldn't think his leaving was a personal reflection on you. What does your husband say about it?" She hadn't even met the man yet, but knew either Arthur or Sebastian—or both—needed to sit this woman down and have a serious talk.
"Sebastian never said a word, not that I asked or expected him to."
"And you blame Arthur?"
"I don't believe I ever said that dear girl. Merely warning you, he has a history of abandoning those who love him." Eleanor glanced to the window. "Well I do believe the rain has stopped." She rose from her chair, moving to look out the window before heading for the door. "I wonder what is keeping Sebastian and that son of mine."
Ariadne sat stunned. What the hell has just happened?
xxx
"You wanted to see me?" The heavy oaken door closed softly behind Arthur as he watched something of a smile come to his father's face. God, he looked the same as Arthur remembered—tan, lithe and pompously smug.
"Some accent," Sebastian turned his back to Arthur, "I didn't realize you hated us so much to change the way you talk."
"Not 'us'."
"You always were an insufferable mama's boy."
"One of us had to look out for her and it certainly wasn't going to be you."
"Scotch?" Arthur shook his head as he crossed the study, stopping near the massive window, hearing liquid fill a glass. "You know you're not welcome here."
"I don't believe that is your call to make; the property is in Eleanor's name." Sebastian, turned back to Arthur, looking up with narrowed eyes over his scotch glass.
"How did you know that?"
"You don't know what I do for a living." Sebastian took a long hard drink, curiously studying his son as he moved to sit behind his massive mahogany desk.
"I thought I made it perfectly clear years ago who was in control around here."
"Control? You screwed around on Eleanor countless times; fucked up by impregnating a close friend and shipped her off to Virginia to save your ass; broke my nose in the aftermath. And you claim to have control?" Arthur's voice was cold as ice.
"I broke your nose?" A laughed sounded on Sebastian's words. "I thought you looked a little different."
"Corrective surgery does that." Arthur's face remained impassive as Sebastian's laugh filled the study again.
"Well I can't help that your punch didn't land where you wanted it. I had to defend myself before you tried again." Arthur shook his head, glancing out the window. Tension between Arthur and Sebastian had been mounting for months before Arthur had worked up the nerve to actually throw a punch. The affair with the close friend had simply been the straw to break the camel's back. "I suppose I could have you arrested for assault." Sebastian started at his son's sudden dark laugh.
"That would actually be the least of my worries."
"It would solve the problem of your unwanted presence."
"I wouldn't be there for long." Arthur considered mentioning his prison escape in Kiev, but thought better of it. Kiev brought up too many other memories.
"Why are you here?" Sebastian suddenly asked.
"Hiding out, lying low, however you want to term it."The casual tone on Arthur's voice made Sebastian pause.
"You in some kind of trouble?"
"Nothing time won't fix."
"Damn son," Sebastian's face lit up as he set his glass down, reaching for the phone, "now I really can't wait for the police to arrive." Arthur flew across the room, snatching Sebastian's hand off the phone, forcing his arm back in a hard twist, watching his father's face scrunch in pain.
"Calling the police won't gain you anything. Maybe if you had the right name you'd get me arrested and deported."
"The right name?" Sebastian's voice came out strained. "This here could qualify as assault." Arthur smirked mirthlessly.
"I've interrogated enough people to know how to inflict pain without leaving a mark." Arthur twisted the man's arm for emphasis, bending it further, hearing the near silent grunt of pain. "For too many years, Eleanor and I have put up with your shit. You have her perfectly fooled, but I damn well know better. I lacked the means before, but you have no idea what I'm capable of now." Sebastian flinched as Arthur twisted again.
"I never considered you a dangerous threat until now." Sebastian ground out.
"You think I'm dangerous awake?" Arthur's voice lowered to his father's ear. "Asleep, I'm your worst fucking nightmare. Change your ways old man." Arthur released the arm with a rough throw, moving for the door, casting a glance back at his speechless father, noting the look of startled shock. Apparently neither elder Darren expected their son to return with such take-charge authority.
"You can still call the police if you feel the need," Arthur started again, voice even as always "you won't have a basis for anything, and if I remember correctly, Chief Hamilton always did like me." A small, forced innocent smile came to Arthur's face before returning to his usual sharp look. "The duration of my visit has yet to be determined, but it shouldn't be of any inconvenience to you. And regrettably, I'm currently in the middle of a project, but if I catch wind of any of your usual shit befalling my wife, it won't be long before I return for a more in depth heart to heart." He turned, opening the heavy wood door, disappearing without another word, leaving Sebastian in a stunned silence.
X
Dinner that night was interesting, to say the least.
xxx
Thanks for reading! What can possibly come of all this…stay tuned!
