ARELLA (A Mafia Story)

Twelve

Damon

It's late by the time we touch down on the ground. Arella's getting grumpy and the boys are antsy. It's time we leave this tin can.

I help Freya out of her seat, so she doesn't jostle Arella around too much. The toddler is still sleeping and we would like to keep it that way.

Her rosy cheek is pressed against my wife's shoulder, her lips parted with each even breath she takes. Grabbing a small blanket we brought with us, I wrap it around Arella before we head out into the cold night air.

There's a black car waiting for us on the tarmac. I immediately recognize it as Ares' car. He steps out upon seeing us, waving with one hand towards Freya.

Together, we approach the man. His dark hair moves slightly as the breeze ruffles through the strands. His Italian heritage shines through his features just like Freya's.

I can see some familiarity between the two of them. They have the same olive colored skin with dark hair. The only difference is the color of their eyes.

His are dark like mine, holding a hint of violence that we can only seem to turn off around our families. Freya's are dark green. Almost like emeralds.

"Nice to see you, cousin." Freya greets, leaning into his side as he wraps a single arm around her back in greeting.

"It's been too long." But his eyes aren't on Freya as he talks.

No, they're on Arella. His hard eyes soften minimally as he takes in our baby.

"This is a welcome surprise." He comments as the boys load their bags into the trunk of his car.

Alessandro squeezes into the third row of Ares' car without saying hello. Ares doesn't say a word about it, choosing to greet the boys instead.

They give each other hard slaps on the back. Typical man greeting man bullshit.

"You're looking old, cousin." Gianni teases, dodging under Ares' arm with a maniacal chuckle when he tries to wrestle with him.

"Whatever. Let's get in. It's going to be a while before we reach the house," He pauses, looking back down at Arella who's slightly shivering under her blanket, "There's a children's seat in the middle row for her. Go ahead and slip her in."

Freya nods her head in thanks, bending down into the car to slip Arella in the seat. She slips in next to it while I round the car to get in on the other side.

The boys are all squished together in the third row of the car like sardines. Their muscular arms are all touching each other. I hope Ares drives fast since Alessandro looks ten seconds from having a melt down.

He doesn't like physical touch. That much is clear. He's leaning as far as he can against the side of the car, trying to avoid touching Davide as much as possible.

"I know, Alessandro. We'll be there soon." Freya comforts our son when he gets increasingly more impatient.

He grunts and reaches up to twirl his hair. Ares looks in the rear view mirror, taking in Alessandro. It's not a judgy look that he gives my son. More like one of understanding.

Nodding to himself, Ares suggests that I ride in the front with him while Alessandro takes my seat.

"Yes, that would be good. Thank you." I step out calmly while my youngest child practically scrambles out of his seat.

As soon as he's sitting and not touching anybody, his body relaxes. He blows out a breath and stops twirling his hair.

Even without the extra person in the back the boys are still shoulder to shoulder. There's just a tad bit more room. They'll deal with it. We all don't want to be separated after the attack.