ARELLA (A Mafia Story)

Twenty-Eight

(Usually I don't do this, but I do want to put a trigger warning on this chapter. If any of my readers are sensitive to blood and murder, then please be safe and don't read this chapter. Take care ~ Blu)

Freya

I'm biting my fingernails down to near stubs as I wait for word from Damon. He called to tell me that they have a surprise meet with Dimitri. Apparently, they captured his second hand man and got the information they needed out of him.

I don't want to think about how they got that info. Shuddering, I check the time on my phone for the fifth time in twenty minutes. It's nearly ten.

They should have Dimitri already. A pit forms in my stomach and I do my best to keep calm by looking down at Arella. She's sleeping in my arms peacefully, her lips making a suckling motion in her sleep.

Ever so gently, I lean down and press a kiss to her little nose. She startles slightly, quickly calming when I brush my nose across hers. Even in her sleep she knows who her Mama is.

"Daddy and brothers are okay. If they weren't, I would've gotten a call by now." Is what I whisper to her while trying to reassure myself.

If I'm a hundred percent honest with myself, it isn't working. How am I supposed to lay here in Damon and I's bed and pretend that everything is okay? How am I not supposed to fret when two of my sons and my husband are out there, taking on our biggest threat yet?

Loosing Damon would kill me, but loosing my sons? It would tear apart my soul. It would rip me to shreds. I couldn't handle loosing my own flesh and blood. No child should die before their parent. That isn't how the world works.

Deciding I can't lay down in this bed for a second longer, I stand, careful not to disturb Arella. With my phone in my right hand, I begin to pace the length of the room.

Cerberus whines from the foot of the bed, watching my anxious pacing. He knows that I'm not okay. Checking my phone again, I see that only five minutes have passed. It feels like an eternity.

I'm debating on whether to call or not. Damon has drilled it into my head that I shouldn't call while he's out doing something like this. It's a distraction that could cost him his life. All I'm thinking about is if he's alive or not.

He's already been shot and should be home recovering. I should be making him homemade soup and nagging him about not picking up the baby. Instead, he's off making sure our family is safe by taking down our biggest threat.

Reaching up, I rub the stress from my eyebrows and head towards the bathroom. Maybe a warm soak in the tub will help me relax.

I turn on the faucet in our giant tub and pour in a heft amount of lavender scented bubbles. Stripping off my clothes, I check on Arella one last time before twisting my hair into a bun and sliding into the warm water.

My phone rests on the edge and I make an effort to not touch it. Closing my eyes, I let the warm water soak into my skin. The lavender scent works wonders in relaxing me.

Now that I'm semi-relaxed I can process my emotions better. It is possible that I was overreacting. If there really was a problem, one of our soldiers would've called.

Damon's always drilled it into their heads that I'm the first phone call they make if he or my sons get hurt. So I guess the lack of a phone call is good in this case.