Archer had once commented that Tag would always hate him if she told her friend about every fight they had. That worked the other way too. Finding a balance between honesty and protection was difficult, but the first step was making sure she’d cooled down before she involved the other.
Knowing Archer’s personality as she did, he would probably assume her rant was some kind of instruction to take Tag down. In a physical confrontation between the two men, Archer would triumph, his experience was greater and he used combat skills every day, whereas Tag was more of an ideas man than an implementer.
Telling herself to put the argument out of her mind, Nya went about the Sizzle business of paying invoices and placing orders before she went on the bank run.
Taking money from her own personal account at the same time, she headed back to her apartment building to deal with her errands. But when she tried to hand over the money she’d withdrawn from the bank for her landlord, Nya got the shock of her life.
It hadn’t been her intention to go back to Archer’s so soon, but it sure was after her landlord closed his door on her. Not only was she embarrassed by the conversation that they’d had, but she was downright flabbergasted.
Pounding on Archer’s apartment door, Nya wasn’t going to use her key and swan in, she was going to make him face her and until she could put her thoughts together, she wanted to keep her distance.
As always, he opened the door without checking who his visitor was. His relaxed expression of expectation quickly became perplexed. “Did you lose your key already? Babe—”
“I just went to my landlord,” Nya said, without crossing the threshold, which made him frown and take another bite of his apple.
“What for?”
Dumb question, except it wasn’t, given what she’d found out. “To pay my rent.”
“Already did that,” he said and instead of waiting for her to come in or request entry, he went back inside to return to his place standing behind the couch to watch the TV. The position was central, but she didn’t understand why he insisted on standing up.
“Why did you do that?” she asked, coming inside because she didn’t want to holler across the room.
“You told me to.”
“Uh, I did not, when did I do that?”
Holding a hand toward her, he didn’t take his eyes from the subtitles on the TV screen. “In the club when you got your tits out.”
Growling, she refrained from tutting at him. “I didn’t get my tits out,” she said, discarding her purse, shoes, and jacket before going over to take his hand. Kissing her brand, he directed her around the couch to seat her in the middle. “I can’t believe you paid my rent.” Twisting to glance up at him, she still didn’t have his attention. “Just how many months did you pay?”
“Three,” he murmured. “Figured we’d have you out of there by then. He can keep the change. You deserve better than that place.”
“I like my apartment,” she said though it was nowhere close to being the Ritz.
Crouching behind the couch, he ruffled her hair. “Watch this play.”
Grabbing his hand out of her hair, she flipped around onto her knees to look at him. “I don’t care about the damn play, Fella. We have to talk about this.”
“What’s the big deal?” he muttered. “I pay my mom’s bills.”
“I’m not your mom,” she said, exasperated that she had to make that distinction.
“Yeah, I know that,” he said and stood up to fold his arms. “But it’s my job, I pay the bills of the woman who created me and of the woman I create with; it’s how it should be. I take care of you. Get used to it, Squirm.”
“Create with you?” she asked. “Are you talking about kids? You want us to have kids?”
If he’d paid the rent for a quarter of a year, he had intentions of sticking around. Not that she’d planned to go anywhere, but she hadn’t begun to consider how long their relationship might last.
“I meant created sweat, and spunk, and orgasm, but I can knock you up if you want that. Still won’t live with you though.”
Still won’t live with her. He departed from his spot to get a beer from the fridge and brought her a bottle of chilled mineral water, her favorite brand, at the same time.
“Where do you plan to put my pregnant-self if you think I’m moving out of my apartment, but not moving in here?”
“Somewhere closer to here,” he said, stroking her breast with the condensation on his bottle. Moving it over the exposed swell, the skin reacted with goose bumps, and while she was still suppressing the shiver, he pressed it to her nipple through her top, making it peak in an instant. “I’m figuring it out.”
Pushing onto her hands, she couldn’t believe he was being so casual about relocating her without consulting her. “You’re actually doing something about it, making plans?”
“Sure,” he said. “Your guy has his ear to the ground. People owe me. We’ll get you something good.”
Arguing with him was pointless, so she slid down onto her back. “Makes no difference to me if you’re going to pay for it anyway,” she mumbled.
“That’s the spirit,” he said, having read her sarcasm and chosen to ignore it.
But she wasn’t done. “If you plan to take over my responsibilities maybe I should give up Sizzle.”
“Whatever you want,” he muttered.
It was infuriating how he could dismiss her and carry on watching TV. “Yeah, I can stay at home all the time, watch daytime soaps and wait for you to impregnate me.”
His voice was absent and his attention was on the game. “If that’s what makes you happy,” he said and she doubted he was listening.
“Might be tough to explain to our twenty kids why Daddy doesn’t live with us,” she said, pretending to ponder. “I can just tell them you’re married. It’s better than the truth and the girls will learn a good lesson, that as long as your man pays the bills, he doesn’t have to be present.”
“Sounds good.”
“Archer!” she exclaimed and thrust back onto her knees to grab his belt.
“What?” he asked. “You’re being stupid. I have no problem with you working and I don’t plan to get you pregnant. So I paid your rent, big deal, I paid off your credit card too.”
She gasped and her mouth fell open. “You didn’t!”
“I did,” he said, opening his mouth to fill it with beer. “You shouldn’t have one of those anyway, your interest rate was ridiculous and it leaves a trail that guys like me can track.”
Uh oh, she didn’t like his implication. “You didn’t... You didn’t close it, did you?” His response was to raise his brows and drink more beer, giving her all the answer that she needed. “Archer! That was my emergency card!”
“From the balance on that thing, I’d say you have a lot of emergencies.”
Growling at him, she poked a finger into his belly button through his shirt. “Where are you getting all this money, huh?”
“I’ve got plenty of money,” he said. “Maybe not as much as your buddy, Tag. But we’ll never be in a bind. I can always take on more work or call in favors. You’re not going to have any emergencies ‘cause I’ll take care of that shit before it gets near you.”
With his network and skills, he would probably foresee problems before she knew they were coming. Being dependent on another person had never sat well with her; she’d resisted all of Tag’s attempts to control her life and her finances. But with Archer, it felt different, like a security blanket, not a ball and chain.
Getting into a relationship with Archer meant all kinds of adjustments in her life, she couldn’t fight them all. “We should get going,” she said, tracing the outline of his belt buckle. “We can’t leave Tulio out there forever. We have to feed him.”
Amusement slanted his lips. “Like a pet,” Archer said, still watching the TV and gulping his beer. “He’ll wait a while. He hasn’t even been there twenty-four hours. We can go if you want, but I have to be back h
ere by nine tonight and you can’t stay over.”
Disappointed, her shoulders fell. “What?” she asked, aware of the vague whine in her voice. “I just got you back and you’re telling me that you’re going to take somebody else on. Isn’t Tulio enough? How many guys can you keep locked up at the same time? Is that why you put Tulio further away?”
“I didn’t want him in my house,” Archer said. “I didn’t know what you wanted to do with him. I try not to kill here when I can help it. Too much mess.”
Instead of addressing the implication of murder, she asked about the location where Tulio was being held. “You’ve used that building before?” she asked and he nodded. That was enough about that, Nya didn’t want to know too much about what he’d used it for or what had gone on there. “So who’s the new guy? Another one of our seven?”
“No. He’s not a mark. He’s a friend. Someone we can consider a plan B. He knows something.”
“Something you want to know?” she asked, curling her hand around his beer bottle when he rested its base on the back of the couch. “And what if he doesn’t tell you? He’ll become a captive?”
Archer shook his head. “He’ll tell me. We’re buddies.”
“Well if you’re buddies, why can’t I be here?”
“You can work your shift at Sizzle.”
She sighed and propped her chin on the opening of his beer bottle. “I can’t work my shift, there’s too much…”
“What?” he asked when she let her forehead fall against his abdomen. One simple action and she’d piqued his curiosity. “What happened today that you’re not telling me?”
He reached further along the back of the couch for the remote. She didn’t see him turn the television off, but she heard him put the remote back down and the body she was leaning on moved.
When she opened her eyes, he was crouching to her eye line, examining her expression with his mouth just an inch from hers. Hoping that it would stop him from retreating, she combed her fingers through his hair to bring her hand onto his shoulder.
“Tag and I had a fight,” she said and Archer tensed, so she did too, to prevent him from pulling away. “It doesn’t matter, it’s no big deal. We’ve fought before, but with Hexam, Tulio, and now you’re telling me I can’t be here… I’m worried about Hexam, what if he comes for us? Archer, what if you’re wrong and he’s pissed about Tulio—”
“He won’t be pissed about Tulio and ‘cause you’re so good at sucking my cock, I’ll forget that you said my name and the word wrong in the same sentence. I haven’t figured all the other guys out, maybe he’ll give a fuck about them, but we’re safe with Tulio. It’s not a good time for you to be fighting with Tag, we need you to stay on top of him.”
Great, pressure, just what she needed. “I know,” she said. “He pushed my buttons. I told him to dump her and he got defensive.”
Shaking his head, he reminded her, “I told you he would.”
“Yes,” she said, losing some of her cool. “But he told me he would only dump her if I dumped you.”
Now Archer did stand up and there was nothing she could do to prevent him. “That fucker.”
“He wasn’t serious,” she called out when he retreated toward the bedroom, leaving her on her knees holding his beer bottle. “Archer, baby, come back!”
He stomped away into the other room and she growled at herself. “Damnit,” she murmured.
It hadn’t been her intention to tell Archer the specifics, she just wanted to let him know that her relationship with Tag was fraught because it felt dishonest to not be upfront about the conflict in her day.
Getting information from people was what Archer did and for some reason, it spilled out of her. When he asked a question, she was more honest than she had to be, and gave more details than were required. Maybe part of her subconscious was fearful of his more enhanced techniques of interrogation, though she knew he would never use them on her.
Casting the beer bottle onto the coffee table, she clambered off the couch and followed in his wake. When she got to the bedroom, he was reaching into the closet retrieving the knives that they’d used with Tulio.
“What do you plan to do with those?” she asked on a surge of panic, quickly closing the door and plastering herself against it. Opening her arms and legs, she pinned her back against it in hope of blocking Archer’s exit. “He didn’t mean it. He was being facetious, trying to point out to me how unreasonable it was for me to ask him to leave Farrah because he won’t leave her, just like I won’t leave you.”
“You fucking love me,” he snarled, untying the knife roll and holding one end as he whipped it out flat on top of the bed. Archer hunkered down and pulled out two knives to examine the blades. Putting one back, he selected another to scrutinize too.
“Archer, you can’t go over there brandishing a weapon. Your knives are beautiful and I know that you’re good. But you can’t walk in there and hurt him.”
But he was mad. “Don’t put money on that.”
“I know it’s easier for you to resort to violence, but you’ll only be proving his point.”
Archer shot to his feet and took one long stride in her direction, aiming the knife in his hand at her heart. “And what is his point, Squirm? That I’m bad for you? Out of the two of us,” he said, flicking the knife backwards and forwards between himself and the absent Tag. “Since you and I have known each other, between him and me, he’s got you into more trouble than I have. I’ve done nothing but save your ass… and his. And I’m willing to do your dirty work. You told me you wanted to take down the men who hurt your friend. Who’s working on that for you? Huh? Him or me?
“I’m working every damn minute of every damn day to do it, and I don’t get paid a penny for it. I’m doing it because I love you.”
“I know,” she said, leaving the door to cross to him. Nya curved herself around the blade he still had extended in his loose grip to wrap her arms around his waist. “I know what you’re doing for me and I’m sorry I can’t pay you and I’m sorry if you feel burdened. You don’t have to prove yourself to me. I love you. I don’t listen to what he says about you.”
“He shouldn’t be allowed to say anything,” Archer grumbled. “All he does is fuck up your life. He’s lucky I haven’t taken him down already.”
“Let’s not fight about Tag again,” she said, turning her head to rest her cheek on his chest. “We have to figure out what we’re going to do with Tulio. You have to be back in time for your friend.”
For whatever reason his friend was coming over, it was important to Archer, whether it was about Hexam and his men, Farrah and her relationship with Tag, or something completely different, Nya didn’t ask questions because Archer did nothing but fight for her, fight her battles. He’d never done anything that would warrant her questioning his loyalty or motivation.
“Let me deal with Tulio my way,” he said, stroking one hand from her crown to her ass. “You stay here and hang out, I’ll go and deal with him.”
It was sweet, but unnecessary that he felt the need to shield her. “You’re trying to protect me,” she said. “But I need to see these men be humiliated because I need the closure, and I can’t live with myself knowing what I do, after seeing what I saw that night when Jamie died, without doing something.”
Balling his hand in her hair, he grumbled but kissed the top of her head. “Ok, get your shit together, ‘cause I have a show for you.”
“What does that mean?”
“You were pretty clear that physical harm wasn’t the only way to hurt someone. I didn’t figure you’d want to kill Tulio, though I’ll do it if you want me to. Let’s just say I have a surprise for you, I think you’ll like it.”
He didn’t elaborate, he just kissed the top of her head and went back to his knives on the bed. Nya was ready to leave already, and after that statement, she wanted to get there faster. Tulio was a lowlife, a scumbag opportunist who would hurt women to suit himself. But he wasn’t an instigato
r, he was a follower, he just needed to be taught a lesson and shown that sometimes if all he did was trot behind a leader, they could guide him off a cliff.
nine
She asked him several times on the journey over to Tulio’s prison what her surprise was and he stayed tight-lipped. Most women wanted flowers or chocolates or expensive perfumes from their boyfriends. Those who were really lucky got jewelry, lavish meals in exclusive restaurants or dirty weekends in exotic locations.
And here she was, sitting next to the man she loved in his beat up car, being driven to the crappiest part of town expecting, not material gifts, but something that would mean so much more, except she had no idea what it was.
Archer parked up in the same spot they’d been in the previous night, then went to the trunk to retrieve supplies, his knives, and a length of rope that he hooked up around his shoulder. With his fingers locked between hers, he pointed his knife roll at the lantern still in the back of the truck. “Do you need the light?” he asked.
The green light that had signaled their destination yesterday had helped to keep her calm as it gave her a focus. Did she need him to carry it along the hallway that she knew would be pitch dark? Yes, she probably would prefer it. But that answer wasn’t what came out of her mouth.
“No,” she said and he let go of her hand to grab a stash of plastic sticks, which he stuffed into his back pocket before he picked up a roll of duct tape to loop it around her wrist.
When he joined their hands again, she squeezed. “Just don’t let go of me.”
Slamming the trunk, he led her through the entrance and down the stairs. As they descended into the belly of this building, the darkness grew thicker, and she began to wish that they’d brought the lantern. Maybe he felt her tremble or the sweat building on her palms, but he pulled their joined hands to the small of his back to flatten her forearm along his belt, above the horizontal sheathed knife on his waistband.
“This won’t take long,” he murmured.
Scarred (Branded Book 2) Page 9
