Shots were fired, the windows of the store shattering from every bullet. Arlo pushed me down into a crouch, all I could see was the linoleum tiles. But my ears took the bulk of the trauma. I could still feel him over me, ducking, and sitting up. But it was all just a minute, maybe 30 seconds.

"Mylo! Mylo!"

I was jolted to my knees. Arlo had my face in his hands as his eyes fluttered all over. He crushed me to his chest and squeezed. I laid limp as he took deep breaths.

"I thought you were hit," he whispered with dread.

I came to with enough strength to pet his head in a way that told him what I was too shaken to say.

"It's okay, Arlo."

"I'm okay."

"We're okay."

He faced me again and let out a shaky chuckle. Then I noticed, even more, his current state. His blazer was falling off his shoulders, hair covering his forehead, hat gone. Sweat drenched him, eyes piercing through the forced facade.

He reached up to cradle my cheek but a sudden wince made him reel back. Arlo pulled back his blazer, a growing stain on his shoulder.

"Jesus Christ, you've been shot!" I shouted.

Contrary to the situation, Arlo let out another chuckle, vocally protesting as he undressed. "He speaks. Don't worry, Blondie, tis just a flesh wound."

"A flesh wound, my ass! We need to get you to a hospital," I insisted, getting onto my feet.

Arlo gripped my forearm and stopped me. "I just gotta get back to the apartment and call the family. They need to know what happened."

"What about your wound?"

"Don't worry about it," he responded with a wince.

I looked at his face. His eyes said, "Trust me." Had we not gotten up to now, I would say they were lying, like Enzo before. As much as I want to not trust him, I am slow to accept that I have to. I nodded in understanding and we slowly worked together to walk out of the store that was barely there.

~=~=+=~=~

I watched on as Leila Mulloy mended Arlo like this was a daily thing. The fourth member of their family scolded Arlo, saying she couldn't believe that he messed up his tattoos and how he could have better shielded himself. Arlo smiled and took the beating.

"I'm sorry, next time I get ambushed in a driveby, I'll make sure to take your comments into consideration," he teased.

Leila hit him in the shoulder, which made him wince.

"Oh! Oh, I'm so sorry, I didn't think that would hurt!" Leila's melodic voice exclaimed.

Arlo's grimace morphed into a teasing grin. "It didn't."

She exhaled sharply in offense and looked at me. "I'm so sorry that this child is who you have to deal with. I'll make sure to give you earplugs as a wedding gift."

"W-wait, wedding gi--." I couldn't get the words out fast enough before she stomped out and past the remaining Mulloy's at the door.

"We're sorry that our sister deliriously thinks all couples get married," said Nolan, the strongest Mulloy.

I stood up and fully faced the two and a half men. "We-we're not a couple."

Nolan looked down at the littlest Mulloy. "You owe me a tenner, squirt."

Quin rolled his eyes and slapped a bill into his brother's hand. Nolan waved and went into another room.

I turned to Quin and he sighed, crossing his arms.

"We made a bet on if Arlo was being truthful about your relationship. I believed you, Arlo!" He confessed.

"Thanks, squirt. No buy-ins, Malachy?" Arlo joked.

"I don't need to be involved in their childish games. Let's move on, Quin. The way Mylo is staring daggers at Arlo, they have adult things to talk about," Malachy assessed.

I heard the door close before Arlo shifted his eyes. He flinched at my stare and patted the bed on his right.

"My left arm is too stiff," he complained.

When I made no sign of walking over, he sighed and rolled over to sit up. Arlo made a gesture for me to break the silent treatment.

"You told them we were a couple?"

He laughed deeply. "Not everyone believed that."

"But that's what you said to them?"

There was a hesitation before he closed his eyes and nodded slightly. Arlo tugged at his hair and stood up, walking to the bathroom.

"Why would you choose to lie about that?" Was all I asked.

He gripped the door frame and turned. "To comfort myself that it wasn't one."

Arlo shut the door and left me. I sighed, frustratingly tugging at my flattened curls. He is just so dramatic. This whole game of cat and mouse, but the cat decides to appeal to the mouse. But I'm not being devoured again.

He is just a beautiful vision with an evil twist. I only attract that type of energy.

I approached the door and knocked lightly 3 times. "Hey, Arlo... What are we gonna do?"

The answer came as quietly as the question, "I'm gonna get you out of here."

The door swung open and I averted my eyes from his bare chest to his gaze. He leaned his uninjured side against the frame and looked down at my flush. Arlo brushed his knuckles against my chin with an amused exhale.

"This isn't your first time seeing me like this. Why are you blushing like a virgin, Mylo?" Arlo teased.

The few times he's been shirtless were eventful but, with only a breath separating us, it was never like this. Only that stupid smirk that held all the world's admiration can be threatening.

"Be careful, you might end up where you don't want to be," he dared.

Looking in his eyes, I saw the ocean when it storms and I am not riding the waves.

Arlo pinched my jaw and retreated into the bathroom. "Tread lightly, Blondie."

He softly closed the door, leaving me to breathe evenly again.

Instead of risking whatever by waiting for him, I ventured out into the main area. Quin and Nolan were playing cards in the living room, I could hear Leila singing in a guest bedroom, and Malachy was on the phone, pacing, in the foyer. It was easy to tell that Leila was independent, Quin and Nolan were partners in crime, and Malachy and Arlo tolerated each other enough to keep the siblings together and their gang thriving.

Being an only child, it's interesting to see this large, although not being the typical, family function.

"Mylo, do you want to play with us?" Quin called out.

I shook my head and sat next to him on the couch. "I'm good, Q."

"Q? That's honestly the first I've heard that," the grinning 18-year-old said.

"Oh, now you've done it. He won't ever leave your side now," Nolan drawled.

Quin flicked a card at Nolan. "No one asked you."

I heartily laughed, petting Quin's hair. "Arlo will be jealous. He's a sour person when it comes to me."

"You're not together! I can do what I want, my lame brother doesn't stand a chance to my personality. He's such a--."

"I'm such a what?"

Quin's eyes widened at Arlo's entrance. Arlo stood, shirt over his shoulder and arms crossed, a teasing smirk on his face.

"You think you can take him away from me, huh?" Arlo teased.

"Y-Yeah. Yeah, of course I can! I'm a Mulloy," he stuttered.

"A pint-sized Mulloy," Nolan said under his breath.

Quin flicked another card, then turned to me, awkwardly putting an arm around my shoulders.

"Besides, you're not a real couple. There's nothing wrong with a little competition," Quin mentioned again.

Arlo glanced towards me and gestured at Quin. "You gonna let him court you? He's a skinny, little pain in the arse that writes poetry about his 'feelings.' He can barely keep up with menial tasks."

I tapped heads with Quin. "I don't know, he's kind of adorable."

Quin pulled back his arm and shifted away, blushing very heavily.

"Be careful, he's a hair-trigger," Nolan chimed in.

Quin bashfully punched Nolan's shoulder. "Am not. I'm a man, not a tween."

"Could have fooled us," Malachy said as he joined the rest.

"Did you get everything set?" Arlo asked.

Malachy nodded firmly. "Everything should be in place by tomorrow night."

"What's everything?" I questioned.

Arlo hurriedly put his shirt on, taking hold of me, and pulling me towards the elevator.

"We're leaving Massachusetts."