by Mia Sheridan
"Strip club?" I breathed out. And that's when I spotted the huge hickey on his neck and the bright pink lipstick smudged on his collar. Oh God. My blood ran cold. "You were with another woman, Archer?" I asked, my heart sinking. My hands seemed to be incapable of doing anything other than hang by my sides.
For several beats, he just stared at me, his tormented eyes telling me everything going on in his head. He thought about lying to me for a second, I saw it flash in those expressive golden brown eyes, but then a look of defeat came over his face and he nodded his head, yes.
I just stared at him for a good thirty seconds before speaking, "Did they bring you up on stage or something?" I asked, hopeful that this was all some sort of bachelor party shenanigan.
His brows furrowed, but then two dots of color appeared on his cheekbones, and he brought his hands up and signed, No, in one of the back rooms.
"The back rooms?" I whispered.
Archer nodded and we both just stared at each other for a few seconds.
"So you were with her with her?" I asked. I could feel the color drain from my face.
Torment washed over his features as he nodded, yes. He looked down at his feet.
I closed my eyes for a couple seconds trying to digest this, and then opened them. "Why?" I asked, tears filling my eyes now.
Archer stuck his hands in his pockets and just looked at me, stark misery washing over his features. But what was I supposed to do with that? He had to know that I would be upset over the fact that he was with another woman. Did he know so little about the world? About relationships? About love? No, I couldn't believe that.
He took his hands out of his pockets and signed, You kissed Travis. His jaw ticked.
I paused, frowning. "I kissed Travis once when you and I were only friends," I said quietly. "But once we became more, I picked you, Archer…" My words faded and then I choked out, "I picked you." Hurt and anger and defeat crashed through my body again as he swayed slightly in front of me, looking like a puppy dog who had just been kicked. But wasn't I the one who had just been kicked?
I cleared my throat so I wouldn't start crying. "You're drunk," I said. "I'll drive you home. You need to sleep it off." I felt numb now.
Archer grabbed my arm, and I looked down at his fingers on my skin and then up into his defeated expression. He let go of me and signed, I'm sorry.
I nodded once, a twitchy movement of chin to chest, and then grabbed my light coat off of the hook by the door and walked through it. I heard Archer close the door behind us and his footsteps following behind me.
I got in my car, and he got in the passenger seat, closing the door softly.
We drove in silence the short distance to Briar Road and when I pulled up in front of his gate, he turned to me in the car, looking at me beseechingly.
"Just go, Archer," I said. I needed to go home and curl up in my bed. I didn't know how to sort through all my feelings right now.
Archer stared at me for a few seconds and then turned and got out of my car, closing the door behind him.
I did a three-point turn and started back to my cottage. When I looked in my rear-view mirror, Archer was still standing at the end of his road, his hands stuffed in his pockets, watching me drive away.
When I got home a few minutes later, I took off my jacket numbly and walked back to my room, climbing back into bed and pulling the covers up over my head. It was only then that I let the tears flow, devastation gripping my heart. He had been with another woman–the man I was falling in love with had chosen to give his first time to some cheap stripper in the back room of a bar. And I knew that I had played a part in making that happen.
**********
I dragged myself out of bed the next morning after all of two hours of sleep. I felt heavy with sadness as I went through my morning routine.
Once I got to the diner, I immersed myself in as much busy work as possible, trying fruitlessly to keep my mind off of Archer. It was a worthless cause though and as I re-stocked the sugar containers at each table, I thought about how hard I had pushed Archer to step out of his comfort zone and be a little social. I wanted to laugh with the irony, and then I wanted to fall on the floor and cry under one of the tables. Instead, I took a deep breath and counted out Splenda packets.
Part of this was my fault. I shouldn't have pushed him to do something he wasn't ready for. I had just thought that maybe he'd never be completely ready, and a little nudge from someone who cared about him was a good thing. He couldn't live on his little plot of land his whole life, never venturing out beyond the grocery and hardware store. I didn't think he wanted that either. But maybe I should have been the one to help him step out into the world, instead of taking Travis up on his offer. Travis. What was his role in this whole thing? I had the feeling it was less than innocent. I had a vague notion that I might have thrown Archer to the wolves instead of helping him break out of his safety cocoon. At the very least, Travis hadn't stopped what happened at the club. Archer was so withdrawn and so shy. Surely, he wouldn't have sought out sex with another woman himself. A pang of hurt pierced my heart, and I wanted to cry again when I pictured him thrusting into some half-dressed woman. I closed my eyes and willed the tears away. I had been cheated on before–I would get over it.
Only… something about this didn't feel like he had cheated on me… exactly. It felt like… something else. I paused in my thoughts. No, I wasn't going to give him an excuse for a choice that was ultimately his. Oh God, I was so confused. And hurt. And confused.
That afternoon, after making a couple batches of my side salads, I called goodbye to Norm and Maggie and headed home for the day.
I remembered I needed a few things at the grocery store and so I made a quick stop there. As I was walking back to my car in the parking lot, my mind still turning over the situation with Archer until I thought I'd scream, I heard my name called softly.
I turned and a woman with short, brown hair and glasses was walking toward me pushing a cart.
I stopped my own cart and turned toward her, smiling slightly. "Hi," I said, tilting my head.
"Hi." She smiled warmly. "I know you don't know me. My name is Amanda Wright. Don't be weirded out about me knowing your name. I'm in a pinochle group with Anne." She smiled again, laughing softly.
"Oh! Okay," I said. "I live right next door to Anne."
She nodded. "I know. She told us about you during our game last week. And when I saw you today, I figured you had to be the Bree that Anne had described."
I nodded. "Well, it's so nice to meet one of Anne's friends. She's been so nice to me."
"Yes, she's lovely." She paused for a minute. "I hope you don't think this is forward, but… she mentioned that you were visiting Archer." She looked at me curiously.
Things had changed just a bit from the last time I'd chatted with Anne, but there was no way I was getting into that, so I just answered, "Yes."
She smiled and let out a breath. "I was his mother, Alyssa's, best friend," she said.
I sucked in a surprised breath. "You knew his mother?"
She nodded. "Yes, and I've always felt… so badly that I didn't do more for Archer when Alyssa died." She shook her head sadly. "I tried to go out there a couple times, but there were all these crazy signs up on that fence, warning about bombs and traps and… I just… I chickened out, I suppose." She looked thoughtful. "Then I heard around town that Archer had sustained some mental damage in that accident, and I just thought maybe his family was more capable of taking care of him and dealing with his situation." She pursed her lips. "Explaining it out loud makes me realize how weak I sound."
"Mrs. Wright–" I started.
"Please, call me Amanda."
I nodded. "Okay, Amanda, if you don't mind me being nosy, do you know what happened to cause the accident that day? Archer won't talk about it, and, well…" I wasn't sure how to finish that sentence, my words fading into nothing.
Amanda put her hand on my arm. "You care about him," she
said, smiling. It looked like there were tears in her eyes.
I nodded. "I do." And in that moment, I realized that no matter what happened between me and Archer, I cared about him deeply, and I still wanted to help him live a life that included more than just him and some dogs and a slew of stone mason projects year after year.
Amanda stared off past my shoulder for a couple seconds, thinking, and then she said. "All I know about the accident itself are the few details that were in the paper. Of course those came from an out of town reporter–we don't have a paper here in Pelion. Other than that, people just don't talk about it. If you ask me, it's because of Victoria Hale–everyone is intimidated by her. She holds the power to get rid of jobs, close businesses, and she's done it when someone's butted heads with her, so there's reason for all of us to be concerned. And I'll tell you what, to my mind, whatever did happen the day of the accident, it started with Victoria Hale. She's never had any qualms about messing with people's lives to further her own agenda."
I sucked in a breath. "Victoria Hale?" I asked. "She came in the diner where I work last week to warn me away from him!"
She nodded, looking as if she was deciding something. "I've never talked to anyone about this, but Tori Hale was always sick with jealousy of Alyssa. Always trying to manipulate people to get what she wanted. And in the case of Alyssa, she was successful more often than not." She shook her head sadly. "Alyssa always had a damn guilt complex about something–never felt worthy of anything or anyone. She grew up in an orphanage, didn't have a person on earth until she came here to Pelion…" Her voice faded away as she recalled the past. "Sweetest girl you'd ever meet, not a mean bone in her entire body, and those Hale boys fell hard for her." She smiled a small smile.
"Anne told me she picked Marcus Hale." I smiled.
But Amanda frowned and shook her head. "No, not picked–was set up. We went to a party the night Alyssa got pregnant. Victoria was there–I'd never be able to prove it, but I know she spiked Alyssa's drink with something and that Marcus took advantage of her. His way of staking claim to her and getting one up on his brother, Connor, who it was becoming obvious, was the one Alyssa loved. Of course, Marcus didn't anticipate her getting pregnant, but that's what happened. They got married three months later. Alyssa was heartbroken and so was Connor. And of course, Alyssa blamed herself and figured her punishment was being married to a man she didn't love. She made a lot of poor choices, but mainly because she just didn't think enough of herself."
She looked thoughtful again for a second. "I've always said that Tori Hale's special gift is being able to manipulate others to do her bidding. Her hands are always clean somehow, and yet she's always the man behind the curtain so to speak."
She shook her head sadly again, almost looking like she might tear up, but then seemed to snap back to the present, putting her hand on her chest and laughing softly. "Oh goodness, look at me gossiping about the past, standing here in the grocery store parking lot while your things are probably melting! Please forgive me. I really just wanted to introduce myself, and ask if maybe you'd say hi to Archer for me and let him know that his mama was real special to me."
I nodded at Amanda, sadness sweeping through me at the information she'd given me about Archer's mom and dad.
Amanda went on, "I own a clothing boutique in town–Mandy's." She smiled. "Creative right? You come in and visit me sometime and I'll give you a friend discount."
I smiled at her. "That's awfully nice of you, thank you, I will."
"Good. It was lovely meeting you, Bree."
"You too," I said as she walked away.
I unpacked the bags of groceries and then got in my car, sitting there in the parking lot thinking about a sweet girl who came to a new town, and the brothers who loved her–and how the one she didn't love manipulated her into choosing him, and how it had all ended in tragedy. And I thought about the little boy that sweet girl had left behind, and how my heart ached for what we might never have again.
**********
I spent the next couple of days working and then holed up in my cottage, reading mostly, trying to make the time pass more quickly. I hurt. I missed him. And strangely, I wanted to comfort him. I didn't know exactly what had happened at that club, other than that Archer had gone to some back room with one of the strippers and had sex with her–which I didn't even realize was on the strip club menu, but what did I know? But what I did know was that Archer wasn't happy about it. So why had he done it? I tried to put myself in his shoes, tried to understand what it must have been like for him to be in a strip club of all places. But thinking about it too much just made it hurt more.
On Friday as I was getting off of work, I saw Travis across the street in his civilian clothes, and as I squinted into the sunshine, watching him chat casually with an older man, rage filled me. He had been there–he had taken Archer to a strip club. He had planned it.
Without thinking, I stormed across the street, a car horn blaring at me. Travis looked over and started to smile, but saw the look on my face and went serious, turning to the older man and saying something before heading to meet me where I was heading toward him on the sidewalk.
As soon as I reached him, I slapped him hard across his face, the sound reverberating through the mild fall air. He closed his eyes and put his hand up to his cheek, rotating his jaw slowly.
"What in the hell was that for?" he hissed.
I got right up in his face. "You're a mean, selfish asshole, Travis Hale. What in the hell were you thinking taking Archer to a strip club? I thought I could trust you to take care of him!"
"Take care of him?" he asked, laughing softly. "What is he a damn child, Bree?"
"What?" I sputtered. "Of course he's not a child. But you know that he needed you to look out for him a little bit. He's never been out socially before! He needed you to–"
"Is that what you want? You want someone who has to be looked out for all the time? Is that the man you want?"
I was seeing red now, my hand itching to slap his face again. "You're twisting this! You're making him sound like he's mentally incapable of getting the hang of things he's never done before. He just needed you to–"
"What? Hold his hand all night so that he didn't fuck another woman?"
My mouth dropped open and I gaped at him.
He breathed out, running his hand through his hair. "Jesus, Bree, I wasn't trying to create a situation where you got hurt. I was just trying to show the guy a good time–make him feel like a GUY, give him some confidence so that he didn't feel like he was so far out of your league! All right, it obviously wasn't the best plan–I figured that out after he went in the back with a girl he liked when we were teenagers and fucked her, all right?"
"God, stop saying that!" I said, tears coming to my eyes. I swiped at them angrily, mad at myself for crying in the middle of the damn street in front of Travis Hale.
"He's not for you, Bree. He's… too different… too sheltered, too apt to make choices that will hurt you. I'm sorry you found out the hard way."
I shook my head back and forth. "You're twisting this."
"I'm not," he said gently, pulling me toward him and putting his arms around me. "I'm sorry, Bree. Really, really sorry."
I pushed away from him and turned to walk back to my car. My head was swimming with hurt and anger–at Travis, at Archer, at myself. I just needed to get home.
"Bree," Travis called and I stopped walking, but didn't turn. "I'm here if you need me."
I kept walking, noting that people all around us were stopped and staring. Wow, subtle. But we had just put on a show, or rather, I had.
I walked quickly to my car, got in and drove numbly home, dragging myself into my cottage and collapsing on my couch.
Phoebe came up and happily jumped on my lap, wagging her tail and licking my face. I laughed, despite my rotten mood, and hugged her to me. "Hi, sweet girl," I cooed.
Phoebe jumped off of my lap and ran to the door, chuffing softly to go ou
tside. She was so used to hopping in the bike basket and peddling over to Archer's house every day, she had to be missing her friends, too, and that huge property where she ran around uninhibited, exploring.
"I miss him too, girl," I said, not knowing what in the hell to do about that.
After a few minutes, I went to get in the shower. As I undressed in my bedroom, the first raindrops began to fall.
CHAPTER 21
Bree
By eight o'clock that night, the rain was coming down hard and the thunder had started booming, lightening zigzagging across the sky.
I sat huddled in my room, Phoebe on my lap. The feeling of that night came flowing back over me as I sat there. I had a better handle on it now, but I knew that that loud booming above me would always remind me of feeling alone and helpless.
I had several candles burning around my bedroom in case the power went out. Normally, candles provided a calming, romantic atmosphere, but tonight the shadows they cast on the walls surrounding me made the storm even scarier, more unnerving.
I heard a soft knock at my door and startled. Phoebe perked her ears up and barked softly. Who the hell was that?
I had already had him in the forefront of my mind because of the storm, and so my heart rate accelerated as I slowly got up off my bed and tiptoed down the hall, Phoebe at my heels.
I went to the front window and peeked out the curtain where I could just barely see my porch in front of the door. Archer was leaned back, looking at me as I stared at him. My heart started pounding as I took in his drenched form, his jeans and white t-shirt plastered to his body. Oh God, he must have walked here in the downpour.
I only hesitated for a second before I hurried to the door and flung it open to the sound of the rain pounding the ground in front of my porch. A loud clap of thunder shook the cottage and I jumped slightly, causing Archer to take a step toward me.
What are you doing here? I asked.
