Tell Me Ariel, Are You Mine?

Chapter 18 - Turn Away

Long chapter guys. Also, thank you to anyone who has ever taken the time to vote for any of my chapters. I'm not even fussed about how many followers I get, it means nothing when you look at the votes, does it? But thank you to those that do and have voted, it means a lot, it's much appreciated and actually shows that you like what I write. You're the ones I update for so cheers! Much love your way :)

*March 2020 disclaimer*: I'm currently in the middle of fixing this chapter up cos it's long. I've cut it in parts so you can take a break when you get to Part 2 (which should really be its own chapter but I don't want to disturb anyone with notifications if I made it one, so for now it will stay this way. I will list it as its own chapter beneath this one). 

As you probably know from a previous disclaimer or two this story is *currently under construction*.

                                    Chapter 18 – Turn Away 

All of an hour had passed before we arrived, and though Dante had said we were going to his place, he never thought to tell me that we were actually going to his home.

He defined his place and his home as two different things. His Wharf Gardens apartment, he said, was his base. His easy commute to work. I mean, that's pretty pricey for a crash pad. But the breath-taking two storey timber framed house we were drawing up to was where the course of his life ran smooth. Home. He'd given me his space just to take me away from the dangers in my own. And for a moment I just about forgot. Easy to do looking at this place.

"This," he said unbuckling from his car seat, "will be your safe haven. Nobody can harm you here."

I gave him a smile I couldn't help doubting. It was brief and evasive with the hope he couldn't see the truth beyond it. I knew that wasn't entirely true. Not that Nate would harm me, but find me? He always had a way. Still, taking hold of the door handle I gawped at his home as I got out.

You know the kind of tree house a kid would dream of where they could bunker up and hide? This was the most elaborate version of one but on the ground. What a dream home this was. Humble, rustic and with character in its bones. A far cry from his shell of an apartment in W2 where all the roads were paved in sterling like its own little Billionaires Row. Still, it wasn't a huge statement of wealth or a major flaunting of it, strangely. Maybe he didn't feel the need to buy a huge house with a thousand bedrooms where the only thing to fill the space inside were echoes.

I couldn't help but stare at him, which he clocked me doing after he locked his door.

"What is it?" He slid the keys away in his pocket.

I looked back at the house. "Just surprised, that's all."

"I'm full of those."

You're telling me.

"You know what surprises me?" He came round the bonnet. "That it took a break-in for me to get you here. I guess you're staying."

He almost took my hand if not for remembering Malcolm.

"Shit." He pivoted. Him first.

Short of telling him how beautiful his home was, I didn't think I could say any more than my dropped jaw did only moments earlier.

As I looked back over my shoulder on Dante's swift recovery of his chauffeur, I watched as he literally flung a limp and no-doubt heavy Malcolm over his shoulder, passed me, and carried him up the short entranceway steps to the front door.