Archer

by Haley Jenner

  I’ve never felt anger as explosive as I do in that moment. I feel it filter through my veins, working like an anesthetic, overtaking my entire being. I don’t register myself as I pull my fist back and land it sloppily against Jake’s jaw. His sobriety gives him an advantage and he’s able to move slightly, making sure I don’t connect as forcefully as my body intended, making me lose balance. Wavering on my feet, I steady myself before throwing my fist towards his face again. Over and over he moves himself marginally away from my fists. I stagger around the room, trying to connect. I land a few hits, hard enough to cause a grunt but nothing that satisfies.

  Jake doesn’t hit me back. Not once. He doesn’t even push me. He makes no attempt to return my blows. I want him to. I need him to hit me back. I need to feel the pain of his fist, but he won’t give it to me. “Fucking hit me,” I yell. “Do it, kid. I took her away from you. I made her leave. Me,” I suck in oxygen on a stuttering breath, pushing his chest. “She’s gone, because of me. She won’t come back. Because of me,” I can feel the tears burn my cheeks and it angers me more. My shouts are staggered around my sobs, but I keep moving, attempting to connect my fists to his face. “I need her and she’s gone. I broke her heart,” I cry.

  “Hit me, Jake. Give me what I deserve. Beat me down, like I did her. Tell me I’m worthless, that she’s better off without me. Tell me that she doesn’t love me, tell me that she hates me. Tell me that I’m pathetic, tell me that I’m weak. It’s nothing I don’t already know,” I scream, my tears falling forcefully, blurring my vision. “I fucking know that she was right, I’m nothing. Not without her. Without Belle, I’m fucking nothing.”

  Eventually strong arms hold me back and I give up. My body going limp as I continue to sob incoherently about needing her, about being lost without her.

  “Archer, man you need to calm down. You need to lie down, brother,” Toby’s voice speaks softly in my ear.

  Bennett walks into my line of sight, grabbing hold of my jaw forcefully. "This shit needs to stop, Archer. You just hit Jake man, enough is enough. We're done with it. Get your shit together," his words connect and I nod through my tears, jerking my jaw from his grasp in an attempt to avoid his disappointed glare. The reality of my actions finally reaching through, sobering my state.

  "Jake," I start but he shakes his head slightly.

  "Not tonight. Just sleep, Archer. We'll talk tomorrow," his voice sounding as broken as mine.

  "I'm sorry," I stutter and he nods his head in acknowledgement, touching my shoulder lightly before turning and walking from the room.

  Shrugging Toby off my arms I move towards my bedroom and fall onto my back, shielding my eyes from what just happened. It doesn't work, the memory is clear, unfolding behind my eyelids. I feel the water leak from the corner of my eyes, dampening the pillow beneath my head.

  I fall into a restless sleep, my thoughts active but my mind seemingly clear. More so than it has been in years. I thought I'd hit rock bottom when Belle left, thought that my life couldn't hit a new low. I was wrong. Seeing the hurt, the hate in Jake's eyes was something else. A new moment, just as painful as watching Belle walk away from me. I know I need to right this. Sort my shit and slowly start to piece myself back together once again. I’ve done it before, so there’s hope I can do it again. These thoughts calm me in sleep and for the first time since my last contract, I don't dread waking up tomorrow.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Annabelle

  The weather is starting to cool as I turn into Aubrey's street, cold enough that I can see my breath in front of me as I walk. The sun is starting to set earlier nowadays and I make note to start heading back from my walks earlier, make sure I'm not out too late at night wandering the streets.

  My steps falter slightly as I reach Aubrey's house, Jake's Charger parked along the curb. My emotions scatter, my feet stalling in uncertainty. I don't know what to think or what to feel.

  I know I want to run to him, be swept up in the warmth of his embrace, of his love.

  I know I’m mad, so I consider turning on my heels and avoiding him. Like he has me, for so many months.

  I want to understand why. What possessed him to cut me out? To hurt my feelings to thoroughly, to let me down?

  I think that’s why I force myself to move forward, continue my path to the house. The want to know why. To give him the opportunity to explain.

  Jake watches me apologetically as I approach him, standing when I pass him without acknowledgment and walk inside. Leaving the door open, I silently tell him to follow and hear the front door close softly after a few moments. Turning, I see him standing in the entrance, his back pressed against the door.

  He’s so tall. In the months I haven't seen him, he’s grown. His hair is out of control, longer and curling at his neck. I notice a small gold loop in his nose and bow my head to hide my small smile. I love his individuality, especially in such a small town, he stands out.

  Lifting my head, we stare at one another silently for a few beats and my hearts aches with how much I’ve missed him, his friendship and his support over the past few months. I’ve felt empty, lost without him. There’s pain in his expression as he watches me cautiously and I take small relief in the fact that the distance he planted between us, hurt him too. I take reprieve in the fact that his torment means there was reason. Reason good enough for him to separate us.

  "It's silly, I know, to rely so heavily on someone else," I breathe deeply. "But I do,” I confess. “Completely. And I have never, in my life, felt more alone than I have these past few months." Tears leak down my cheeks and I let them fall, massaging my hands nervously. Jake moves to comfort me but I shake my head slightly, indicating my need to finish. "I understand that everything isn't about me, Jakey. That you have obviously had your own stuff going on, but nothing?" I question incredulously. "Not a single call, a simple fucking text. I deserve better than that," I accuse, hand to my heart.

  I see the regret in his bright blue eyes, moisture pooling, threatening to spill over. "I know. I'm so sorry," he croaks. "Let me hug you. Let me explain," he pleads and I can't stop myself from moving forward, so fast that I crash into his chest. My arms wrap tightly around his lean body and we squeeze one another tight for a long time.

  Pulling back, I look up to his face and focus on his new jewelry. Tapping it with my finger I smile softly. "Did it hurt?"

  His dimple makes an appearance as he laughs softly. "Like a bitch."

  Leaning down he offers me a quick kiss before pulling my hand towards the living area. We drop down onto the same sofa, facing one another, knees touching. "Annabelle, I'm so sorry. I don't even know where to start. I…I've been so messed up. It doesn't excuse my behavior but …." he rubs his hands down his face before gliding them through his hair.

  Making eye contact again, he smiles sadly. "I've been staying at your place, like we talked about." I smile at this, happy it hasn't sat empty. "Archer, shit Annabelle, he’s been so messed up." I take a sharp intake of breath at his name, Jake noticing, his words pausing in his throat, waiting for some type of confirmation that I want him to continue. Offering a brief nod of my head, I encourage him to keep talking. "Night of your birthday I was crashed out at your place and woke at some ungodly hour to find Archer stalking through the house, blind drunk. I don't know what he was doing there, but he was in a really bad state. When he saw me Annabelle, he flipped out."

  Jake looks so broken as he speaks, rehashing the night. "He started accusing me of fucking you," he laughs sarcastically on a shake of his head and I feel like I’m going to vomit so badly, I can taste bile in my throat. "Blaming me for being the third party in your relationship. Questioning how it could ever have worked with you and I being so close." He watches me for a few beats, regret clear in his eyes. "Obviously, I vehemently denied it. Told him the reason your relationship broke down was because of him. How weak he was. He didn't like that," he smiles bitterly, recalling the memory. "He started breaking shit. Full mel
tdown mode. I called Bennett and Toby to come help. The shit that he was saying though Annabelle, asking if I fucked you the way he did. God, I felt sick," he whispers.

  Much like I do now. Holding up my hand I stop his recollection and moving into the kitchen, I pour a glass of water, trying to stop myself from dry heaving. How could Archer spew that shit? How dare he accuse Jake and I of that. How could he take something that was special between us and downgrade it nothing? Spike it with so much hate.

  Jake’s hand rests on my shoulder and it makes me jump. His words hit deep inside and for the first time in my life I feel uncomfortable at his touch. Stepping out from his hand, I meet his eyes apologetically.

  "I felt like that for a bit too, every time I thought of you, which was a lot. God, Annabelle, I've hated not speaking to you. But every time I went to call you I felt like I was doing something wrong. To Archer."

  Tipping his head towards the lounge he asks me to let him finish his story. In truth, I don't want to hear anymore but he needs to tell it, so I agree to listen. Settling back on the couch, I crawl into the corner and Jake seems saddened by my retreat.

  "I was so mad at him for saying those things. About you. About us. About your relationship. I lost it, Annabelle." Dropping his head, he refuses to meet my eyes as he speaks softly. "I told him I hated him. That he was pathetic and how much better you are without him. That I wish he’d never come home. That he was the worst mistake you ever made."

  Lifting his head, he watches me closely for a few silent beats. "He hit me," he admits and I my hand flies to my mouth in shock. “Punched me in the face, the stomach. He was so drunk it barely connected but Bennett and Toby arrived in time to pull him off me."

  Tears fall from my eyes at Jake's words. Shocked that Archer was so low, so damaged. Because of me, they fought. Because of me, he’d assaulted Jake. "The next morning I’ve never seen desperation like that before. He was so….so fucking broken, Annabelle. I don’t think he imagined he was capable of that. My face was a bit of a mess,” he grunts out a laugh. “When Archer saw me, fuck, I thought his jaw would break with the tension wiring it shut. Tears were falling and he couldn’t wipe them away quick enough. That moment, I knew I needed to stand by him, to help him. You told me to fight for him, be on his side. So I was." He meets my eyes confidently, comfortable with his decision, with his words and I nod at his declaration. Happy that Archer finally had someone fighting for him

  "You were a complication," he whispers regretfully, sorrow filling his bright blues and hurt plagues my heart in understanding.

  “And now?" I worry.

  "I may have practiced this part a few times," he smiles shyly at me, which I attempt to return, but it's forced and awkward. Turning to face me, he picks up my hands and holds tight. "I've spent a lot of time thinking about our relationship. My love for you hasn’t changed, hasn’t diminished in anyway. You’re my family, Annabelle and I love you. I won’t let hurtful words that Archer threw at me when he was drunk discount or alter our friendship. Our affection isn’t wrong and I don't want you to think it is. Archer was being unreasonable, aggressive and we both know he doesn't even believe his own words. Please forgive me for pushing you away. Please understand that it was something I needed to do."

  I offer his hands a squeeze in reassurance, because I get it, completely. I do understand his reasoning and I admire him for the strength he held onto by standing by his brother.

  "Why couldn't you have just told me you needed space? I felt so lost.”

  He looks ashamed, speaking on a sigh. "Because I waited for your phone calls, for your texts. To know that you were still thinking about me. That whether you knew it or not, you were there for me, even just a little. I needed that. So I took it."

  Crawling over to him I snuggle into his side. "Please don't ever do that to me again." Jake squeezes me tightly, pulling me into his lap so he can hug me fiercely.

  "Never. I really am sorry, Annabelle."

  We sit like this forever, wrapped around one another. I realize though, as time continues to pass, that Jake hasn't told me if his support helped. I still don't know if Archer is in a better place. But instead of asking, we continue to ignore his presence in our lives as we try to find our way back into our normal.

  We settle onto the couch to watch a movie, Jake stretching his long legs onto the coffee table and I lay my head on his lap as he holds my hand.

  "Aubrey, please, act like an adult. You are a grown woman you should be able to handle yourself in a social setting." David and Aubrey burst through the front door, their tones heated, having not noticed Jake and I.

  "Handle myself? David, you invited me to a work party to ignore me for the entire night. I should’ve just stayed home," Aubrey tosses back while removing her coat. She looks breathtaking in a black silk gown; her porcelain skin perfectly highlighted by the low back, with the front high and tied around her neck.

  "I wish you would have. Your dress is inappropriate. You look like a god damn harlot and let's not even get started on the vomit that spews from your mouth. Have you not ever heard of a filter?" David reprimands, shrugging out of his own jacket and loosening the tie from his tux.

  I sit up shocked, confused by their exchange. Aubrey is who she is. Blunt? Absolutely. But that's what everyone loves about her. What I thought David loved about her. Jake's body is solid at my back, hostility vibrating from his posture, obvious displeasure at the way David is speaking to Aubrey.

  David turns towards the hall, finally noticing our presence, his feet stalling in awkward embarrassment. "Jake. Annabelle. We didn't see you there."

  Neither Jake or I respond, instead, stilted into silence, too shocked to speak. Aubrey, cheeks flushed in humiliation, clears her throat and clearly uncomfortable, turns on Jake. "What are you doing in my house?"

  "Aubrey," I snap and her icy stare turns to me.

  David takes this opportunity for his leave, kissing Aubrey's forehead. "I'm off the bed, sweetheart. Don't be long," his smile is forced as he disappears from our sight and Aubrey watches his retreat as Jake and I share a 'what the fuck' look.

  "You have a lot of nerve coming here after that shit you've pulled these last few months. Do it again and you'll never be welcome in my house," she spits at Jake, focusing back on us.

  "Understood," Jake offers cautiously, eyes assessing her somewhat cracked disposition before motioning to my room, silently telling me he’s making an escape.

  I wait for Jake to reach my room before turning back to Aubrey. "We’ll discuss the way you just spoke to Jake later. Right now, my concern is you and whether you’re okay. What the hell was that with David? Does he often speak to you like that?" I question.

  She stares at me for a few seconds, her mind working. I feel disappointed when I see the lie in her eyes. "I don't know what you're talking about. We’re fine. Trivial argument. They're common in grown up relationships, Annabelle." She emphasizes her words, ice dripping from her tone.

  I step back slightly in shock, my feelings hurt. "Ouch," I exhale and immediately see the regret and apology in her eyes.

  "Annabelle," she starts forward but I wave her off. "It's late. Emotions are running high. Don’t sweat it," I offer and she smiles gratefully.

  "So, Jake?" she prompts and I choose not to tell her. It’s not my part of the story to share.

  "All is good. We worked everything out." Watching me for an extra beat, she waits for anything more, nodding her head when I remain silent.

  "I'll apologize to him in the morning for being a right bitch," she winks before planting a kiss on my forehead and taking a deep breath before reluctantly moving towards her bedroom.

  “Aubrey,” I call and her shoulders tense as her feet cease their movement. “You know you can talk to me, right? I promise I won’t even say a word if that’s what you want. Sometimes just talking about it helps a little.”

  Twisting her neck, she smiles over her shoulder at me but it lacks any of her usual enthusiasm or exuberanc
e. “I know.”

  Her feet continue the retreat and I watch her walk away, continuing to stare into the empty hall, long after she has disappeared into their room.

  I’m a shitty friend and I hate that. I’ve been so caught up in my own problems over these last few years, I haven't noticed how unhappy one of my closest friends is. Knowing Aubrey, it's going to be one hell of a fight to get her to open up. For someone so blunt, so liberal, she’s all about keeping her life private.

  Making my way towards my room, I crawl into bed next to softly snoring Jake and cuddle into his side, thankful that I have him back in my life.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Annabelle (Present Day: Archer 33 / Annabelle 28)

  “Hey, Jakey,” I greet, cell phone to ear. “Jake?” I prompt, when I’m met with silence.

  “Annabelle,” Jake’s voice finally breaks the line; so small and unsure.

  “What’s wrong?” I question, terrified by the tone of his voice.

  Jumping from my bed, I begin throwing things into a bag, knowing that no matter what, right now I need to be back in Carnation. With Jake. My mind wonders everywhere it shouldn’t as I pack. All awful. All heart-breaking as he takes his time forming his words. Thoughts of Archer rush through, memories I haven’t allowed myself to recall over the last few years, afraid of the pain they bring. Please don’t be Archer. God, I feel sick.

  “It’s Ma…. I mean, she’s okay. They say she’s gonna be fine, but I don’t know……. I’m scared,” Jake’s voice cracks and he sounds so young. “Annabelle, I need you.”

  “Of course, babe. I’m packing as we speak, I’ll be there as soon as I can. Now, tell me what happened," I demand.

  “She was in an accident, drunk driver hit her or something. She’s in surgery now, the Doctor says she’ll be fine, but do they know that? How can they be so sure?”