His uncle on his father’s side killed someone related to his mother, and in retaliation, his mother killed his uncle. Then, his father and his mother started threatening each other, going as far as to sabotage and stab one another.
“If you find this story boring, I’d hate to know what you find interesting,’’ I breathe out in disbelief.
Arlo chuckles. “There’s more.’’
“There’s more?!”
“Their families had a terrible reaction to their sudden announcement that they were together. So, Mom and Dad run off for a while, spending time at the sea, away from the drama. Meanwhile, my grandfathers were constantly beating the shit out of each other.”
I laugh.
“Ah, I should’ve expected that one.’’
He chuckles.
“Despite all of that, though, your parents must truly love each other to go to such lengths.’’
Arlo smiles warmly. “They do. They’re amazing.’’
“I wonder what it’s like to have loving parents,’’ I say, then realize I allowed inner thoughts to surface.
“Your parents were shit,’’ Arlo says, teeth clenched. “They deserved what you did to them and so much worse. But don’t think, not even for a second, that any of that was your fault, Blair. Nothing was your fault. They failed you, not the other way around.’’
I sniffle, words barely escaping my lips.
“How much do you know about my involvement with Paul Simmons?”
He swallows harshly. For the first time I’ve seen him, he has this rage on his face. As if it’s something he’s been holding back, hiding it from the rest of the world. His eyes have a darkened gleam, piercing through me.
And it doesn’t scare me.
It brings me a sense of comfort I’m unfamiliar with, but it’s not unwelcome.
“Just what you told in court.’’
I nod, trying to calm my nerves by breathing in and out deeply. Tears pool out of the corners of my eyes, and I don’t stop them, letting them stream down my cheeks.
“If I told you, would you listen?”
“Always.’’
TWELVE
Dad and I were granted entrance with ease. They checked the VIP tickets my father managed to get and let us in without glancing at us twice. Both of us are wearing suits, which my father adores. I absolutely despise them.
Only when necessary am I putting myself through having a tie around my neck.
“I look out of place,’’ I grumble. “Why am I the only one wearing a goddamn hat? I look like I just came out of The Godfather.’’
“Don’t be ridiculous,’’ he chuckles. “No one wears a hat in The Godfather.’’
“The vibes, father,the vibes.”
“Your hair is as white as the fucking snow. You’ll attract unnecessary attention to yourself.’’
“Well,’’ I pause and take the damned thing off my head since we’re in the poorly lit area of the small casino. “You can’t blame that on my hair. Blame it on my face; I’m handsome, after all.’’
“You’re insufferable,’’ he scoffs.