The Dark Side of Summer

CHAPTER THREE | The Pieces of You and Me

| Arabella |

"I need you to retrieve something for me. A black box that had something very valuable to me was stolen from my home and I want it back," His steady gaze never left mine.

Leaning forward, Scott pulled a cigar from a dark wooden box with a mother of pearl inlay on the lid, deep intricate patterns carved on the sides, laying on the coffee table. Clipping the end, he brought it to his lips all the while keeping his eyes fixed on me. I watched the flame flicker to life as he clicked the lighter, the tobacco burning red as it caught alight, the smoke obstructing his cold gaze.

"Why are you asking me to do this? Why not ask one of your goonies," I replied bitterly, eyes narrowing in anger at his nonchalant demeanour.

Scott laughed humourlessly at my response, seemingly unfazed. I found my eyes wandering in the moments it took for him to respond, taking in the room around me. Thoughts of what if's and maybe's flooded my mind, wondering if I was born into another family would my life have turned out differently?

"Arabella."

I looked back towards Scott as my thoughts were broken by my name on his lips. I raised a brow in question, not having heard what he said.

"You will do what I ask you to do, because one, I can hand you over to Jimmy for that petty crime that he hasn't stopped bitching about," he paused, sucking in a long breath of the cigar before blowing the smoke my way, "and two, you know what will happen if you don't."

I didn't need him to voice out what he meant. I didn't need the words to leave his mouth that he knew where my mother was, knew that if he wanted he could have her killed without so much as a second glance. And even though Scott referred to me as his little gem, I know he won't hesitate in killing me either.

I clenched my fists feeling my nails dig painfully into the palms of my hands, absolutely hating the power he held over me.

I grit my teeth as I glared at him. I owed my mother nothing, not even her life. She never fought for me, let them take me away even though I begged her not to. She gave me up so easily that it was even comical to still be calling her that word, mother. She didn't deserve the title. And even so, I couldn't let go of the love I had for her, the small glimmer of hope that one day she would still choose me.

Glancing at Scott, I knew that if things hadn't happened the way they did, I also wouldn't know him. And as much as I fucking hated being a run around for Scott, he was the glimmer of hope in my life. The one constant I could always rely on.

The only person that wasn't going to leave.

Was I going to make it easy for him? Never.

"What do you need?" I breathed out, shoulders tense as I could feel my muscles already pulling tightly.

"A black box. My sister has it in a safe in her apartment in the city. She stole it from me when my father passed on, after it had been left to me in his will," Taking another drag of the cigar, his eyes focused intently on mine as the smoke wafted in the air around his face in twirls, "I want it back."

Great. Now I was involved in Scott's family drama.

I knew he was one of three children, and he was meant to take over the family business. His father pushed and pushed, trying to force Scott into this matchbox mould he was never built for.

I watched the many years pass by of Scott trying to prove to his father that he was worthy, that he was enough. Until he wasn't. All I know was he left, and his dad disowned him.

And then there was me. Picking up both our broken pieces. In all honesty, I don't know where he ended and I began.

I rolled my eyes while gathering my hair up into a high ponytail.