His Mafia Prince

(ARLO)

I watch as Miles wolfs down the disgusting soup then head over to check the fireplace. I saw a huge stack of wood beside the cabin earlier. My fingers and toes feel chilled to the bone. Being out in the cold night air is great, but it would be better with a warm fire.

I straighten. "We should start a fire," I suggest.

"Too risky." Miles pauses with the spoon halfway into his mouth then goes back to eating like the subject has been decided. I hate it when he does that. He seems to think that he has the final say, no matter what is being discussed.

"It would be fine though."

He stops eating and then narrows his eyes. "What if Dalton and his goons see the smoke? We don’t want anything that will attract their attention to us. All we need to do now is to stay alive long enough until we are back in the city."

"Maybe there are other cabins around. Just because they might see smoke come up from a cabin won’t mean it’s us." I mumble.

"What if it catches their attention, Arlo? What then? We have no weapons or guns or anything. Am I to defend myself with a wooden spoon?" he shakes his head in disappointment and finishes his soup. He then sets the pan on the sink and rinses it.

He leans his elbow on the edge of the sink as though he is feeling weak. "it’s too risky."

"Well, I’m fucking freezing." I sigh impatiently.

"There might be some blankets in the bedroom. Check."