Page 84 of Scarred Sins
At times, I wondered what it would be like to have at least one loving parent. Now, while watching how much Hudson loves his daughter, I’m wondering what my life would’ve been like had I known my father.
Would he act toward me like Hudson acts with Aria? Would we have that special bond that I’ve heard stories of? Would he love and care for me? Or would he turn out just like my mother and stepfather?
With a deep breath, I take another sip of the coffee, forcing my gaze from the two. The espresso tastes bitter on my tongue, and that’s exactly how I like it. It’s the only kind of coffee I’ve ever liked, and Noelle makes some amazing coffee.
I feel a hand on my shoulder, and I turn my head to the side, placing the cup down. A warm smile spreads on my face when I see Arlo looking at me with that beaming grin of his. He looks like such a boy, a stark contrast to his dangerous and murderous tendencies.
“Hey, butterfly,’’ he muses.
“Hi.’’
He chuckles and presses a soft, lingering kiss on top of my head. The closer he gets to me, the more of his scent I can smell. It fills all of my senses, my shoulders relaxing immediately as the safety and comfort of him surrounds me.
“I’ll let you rest today.’’
“What? Why?”
“Firstly, you’re too sore,’’ he chuckles, stepping behind me and wrapping his arms around me. He rests his chin on top of my head, looking out the window. “And secondly, I want our first lessons on how to shoot a gun to be as soon as you wake up in the morning.’’
“Any particular reason?” Almost subconsciously, I lean back into his chest, and he tightens his hold on me slightly.
“If you learn how to shoot in your most vulnerable, haziest state, you’ll get the hang of it quicker,’’ he pauses. “Or at least, that’s what I think. There’s no scientific proof to back it up, just my thoughts.’’
I hum. “Alright, whatever you say.’’
For a while, we remain like that in silence. My fingers trail soft patterns on his forearm, both of us watching as Hudson and Aria continue to laugh, with Noelle’s loud follow-up as she steps outside, yelling for both of them to get inside.
“Your parents truly love each other.’’
Arlo chuckles, his chest vibrating behind me. “They do.’’
“She even set aside a piece of the brownies and added a lot of strawberry syrup on top of it.’’
Arlo tenses for a moment before he bursts out laughing. His deep laughter rings in my ears, my heart skipping a beat. The beautiful melody makes me break into a smile, though I’m confused at the reaction.
“Ah, it just means he messed up, and that’s her way of dealing with his bullshit.’’
“I’m not following.’’
He chuckles, shaking his head. “Dad’s allergic to strawberries – anything strawberry, really. The fruit, juice, ice cream, and syrup.’’
“That’s… messed up.’’
He snorts. “Is it? Or is it more messed up that each and every time Mom pulls this stunt, he eats it willingly?”
With a deep sigh, I let it go. I’ve realized that no matter how much I try to understand the family dynamics, I’ll never be fully able to grasp just how their minds work, and I’ve decided not to even try anymore. It’s useless.
“That’s true.’’ I hum.
Arlo lets go of me, and I almost whine at the loss of the contact. He spins me in the high stool, facing me. He puts his hands on each side of me on the kitchen counter, effectively caging me in. A small smile is on his lips, but there’s a serious undertone that lingers in his eyes.
“How are you doing, really?” He asks, and I pause.
I purse my lips for a moment, thinking hard for a few seconds before sighing.
“A little overwhelmed, tired, and my entire body is sore. But overall, I’m hanging in there.’’
He brushes a strand of my hair, pinning it behind my ear, and leaves his hand there for a moment before pulling it slightly back, cupping my cheek, and rubbing soft, soothing circles on my skin.
