by Dark, Raven
Archer cursed and weaved out of the way. The weapon, a hatchet, flew past his head, and thunked into the wall. Gwen saw blood poling on his shirt under his ear.
Frank scrambled to his feet and ran at him. Archer didn’t get a chance to react.
Two shots fired from the steps behind him. Gwen covered her ears as Frank fell backwards, twitched on the floor, and was still.
Confusion swam over her until she looked at the stairs. Ace stood frozen, smoking gun still pointed at Frank, the pistol shaking slightly. When he looked at her, his face was ashen.
Gwen sat up slowly, shock dulling any pain she should have felt. “Ace…”
Archer rushed to her.
“Gwen.”
She tried to say his name, but only a broken, relieved groan came out. Then she was in his arms, his warm, strong arms, pressed to him. His hands cupped her face, bushed her hair back, running over her back, her arms, as if he were trying to make sure she was whole.
“Sweetheart, are you all right?”
“I’m okay.” But her voice broke and she clutched at him as though he might disappear at any moment. Tears streamed down her face, and she squeezed him close until he took her face almost roughly.
“I thought I lost you, Gwen. I would have died.” He breathed the words against her skin, kissing her cheeks, her lips. She kissed him back, wishing she could give him more. So much more. If she’d held him forever, it wouldn’t have been long enough.
“No one’s ever gonna take you from me, sweetheart. I’m here now.”
She held him tighter and tears splashed her cheeks.
After a long moment, he pulled back. He released her as if it was just as hard for him to let her go, and stepped aside. Ace stood behind him, looking like he didn’t know what to do with himself. He looked Gwen over, but the hard expression on his face looked forced.
“Ace…”
His face crumbled into the gentlest look she’d ever seen from him. Then he pulled her into a hug, hard and tight. His face warmed hers. When he spoke, his voice was so soft, it was almost unrecognizable.
“I’m sorry, Gwen. I’m so sorry.”
Somehow, she knew the apology wasn’t just for not believing her. It carried a depth, a scope that went back years, his voice shaking with the weight of a hundred mistakes, a life of regrets.
Gwen let out a shaking breath. Suddenly everything he’d said, everything he’d done up to that moment didn’t matter anymore.
She clutched him close for a long time.
38
Taking A Stand
Gwen watched numbly as Frank’s body was wheeled out of his house on a gurney. Officers moved in and out of the house, carrying boxes of evidence while Ace and Quinn stood by the corner’s van, watching the ME roll the gurney over.
She stopped the ME before Archer could help her into an ambulance. “Hang on, Archer. Agent Lassiter, I need to see him.”
Lassiter nodded and signalled to the ME to bring the gurney to her.
“Gwen.” Archer took her hand.
She touched his arm. “Please. I have to.”
Something in her voice or her face must have convinced him, because he nodded. The ME stopped with a questioning look. When she asked to see Frank again, the ME nodded in understanding and opened the black bag enough to let her see the face within.
She drew a breath, then made herself look inside.
Frank Rightworth lay motionless, his eyes closed, almost peaceful. Two red holes glared on his chest, his white shirt stained crimson.
She closed her eyes, letting a long breath out slowly. Archer rested his hands on her shoulders. She wrapped her hand around one.
Lassiter touched her arm. “He can’t hurt you anymore.” His voice was low and surprisingly tender.
“He looks so small now. I always pictured a monster, huge and twisted, evil.” She shook her head. “It’s just, I spent so long being afraid of him. It was only months, but it feels like years. I needed to know it’s really over.”
Archer’s warm breath fanned her cheek and he pressed her against him. “I know. I understand.”
One of the officers called Lassiter over and Gwen squeezed his hand before he could leave. “Thank you, Agent Lassiter. For everything.”
“Of course.”
She wondered if it was just her, or if the agent looked a little sad.
“Thanks, Quinn.” Archer clapped him on the shoulder. The two men shook hands. Quinn gave a wave and then headed for the house where officers waited.
She shook her head. “I feel so foolish. I knew something was off about him from the start. How did I not see that he was the one after me?”
Archer sighed into her hair. “Because he was also smart. When Ace and Quinn looked into him, they found out he worked for a security firm on the side. The same one Hex used for the party the other night.”
“So that’s how he knew.”
“Yeah, being a detective allowed him to do a lot of things other people couldn’t have done. Quinn thinks that’s how he lived in your house for those three days. People knew he was a cop, and they know you have family on the force, so no one thought to question him.”
“Jesus.” She shivered. She’d been lucky.
When Frank’s body was wheeled away, Archer turned her gently to him. “It is over. You’re safe.”
“I know.” She sighed into his neck. All at once, the horror of it all gripped her heart in a vice, the relief washed over her, and she let out a small sob. Archer’s arms closed around her tight, pressing her head to his chest.
The pain welled up like a damn, and she choked out sob after sob into his chest. “Archer, don’t let me go.”
His hands made warm, soothing circles on her back and one smoothed her hair back off her face. “I won’t.” He kissed the top of her head. “Shh. I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.”
She clutched at him and squeezed her eyes shut. No woman ever loved a man as much as she loved him in that moment.
After a long time, when her sobs quieted, he lifted her head and his hands rubbed her arms. “I’m proud of you, you know.”
“Why?” She glanced up at him, wiping her eyes. “For crying like an idiot?”
“No.” He dried her cheeks with his fingers. “You did great.”
His praise warmed every part of her, seeping into her heart. “If you say so.”
One of his fingers tipped her chin up. “Just take the compliment, Gwen.”
“M’kay.” The gentle dominance in his tone brought a strong urge to call him Sir. Her cheeks heated, even though no one was close enough to hear if she had.
“Let’s get you checked out. Then we’ll go see Nick, okay?”
Her stomach clenched at the memory of seeing Nick, too still, blood pouring from his head. And Tony…
“Yeah. Are they in the hospital?”
“Yes. But…” He drew her closer to him and his face darkened.
She looked into his eyes. “What is it?”
“Tony didn’t make it.”
“Oh, God.” Her eyes watered. The young agent had been so sweet, so good to both of them. “Oh, no. Quinn.” She looked back and saw the detective disappearing into the house with some of the cops. “This is awful.”
Archer nodded. He slid his arm around her and they walked back to the ambulance. “Come on, in you go.”
As a paramedic checked her vitals, the pain rushed in. Her head hammered. She wouldn’t be taking karate for a while.
She looked up at Archer. “We still have a big problem, you know.”
He raised a brow.
“We still have to tell my family what we’re doing next week. They aren’t going to take this well.”
He nodded. “You’re sure you still want to go?” One finger traced her jaw line.
“Oh yeah.”
“Then we’ll go. No one has the right to control our lives except us.”
“Us.” She rubbed her nose against his. “I like that.”
“Me too.”
* * *
“You’re what?”
Standing in her father’s living room, Gwen pulled in a patient breath. His obvious anger wasn’t a surprise. Funny, after Frank, her dad didn’t scare her the way he used to. Nothing like getting kidnapped and almost turned into a Stepford wife to put things into perspective.
“You heard me, Dad.”
His eyes blazed and he shot up from his seat. “Gwen, damn it, don’t be ridiculous. You can’t just run off halfway across the world. Especially not after what’s happened.”
Seated on the couches that sat about the room, her brothers tried to chime in, until she shot them a look. Chad, sitting in the loveseat, looked like the only one who didn’t want to rip her a new one. Well, Ace wore an odd expressionless look, and wouldn’t meet her eyes. She wished she knew what he thought.
Gwen met her father’s angry glare. “Look. I’m not asking your permission. After what’s happened, all the more reason to get away. This city doesn’t hold the warmth for me it once did.”
Beside her, Archer squeezed her hand. Supportive.
“But what about your job? Your family? You can’t just leave us like this.”
“I can. I am.”
“The hell you are.” Joe crossed his arms. Mike nodded his agreement.
Gwen rolled her eyes.
“Archer, you’re the one who put her up to this, aren’t you?” Her father pointed at him. “You think you can just drag her off to some foreign country, away from everything she knows?”
“I’m not dragging her anywhere, sir. But we are leaving.”
“How is she gonna make a living? When it all becomes too much, will you bring her back?”
“Dad.” She made her voice firm. “Enough, I only told you out of courtesy. This isn’t your choice.”
His eyes went huge. “Young lady—”
“Gwen, sit—” Joe started.
“Guys,” Ace snapped. Everyone looked at him. “Shut up. Let her do what she wants.”
“Excuse me?” Dad put his hands on his hips.
Ace stood up. Meeting him inch for tense inch. “You heard me. Back the hell off.”
Gwen stared at him, warmth spreading through her. She could feel Archer’s surprise in the way his hand on her shoulder flexed.
“Ace, you…”
Ace shook his head, not letting Dad finish. “Let’s go, Gwen.” He took her arm and led her to the door, ignoring the outbursts from the rest of them.
Once outside, Gwen glanced from him to Archer and back again. “Ok, who are you and what have you done with Ace?”
“Ha ha.” Ace smiled. Then he clapped Archer on the shoulder.
“So you’re okay with this?” Archer asked. “Us leaving, I mean?”
“Ah…yeah. On one condition.”
Archer cocked his head.
“Beers before you take my sister away.”
Archer clapped him on the arm. “Deal. Now?”
“Now’s good.”
With a final nod, Archer hooked his arm in Gwen’s. “Coming?”
Gwen smiled at both men, her heart soaring. “Of course.”
When Ace went around to his side of the car, Archer opened the door for her and leaned down to her ear. “This won’t take long. I have something I want to ask you tonight.”
She turned. “What is it?”
His eyes danced, and she thought she saw him push something deeper into his pocket. “You’ll see.”
* * *
“Oh, come on, Archer, where are you taking me?”
“Not saying. Just keep your eyes closed, woman.”
“Just a hint.”
“Nope.”
“Dom.”
“Brat.”
She chuckled but kept her eyes closed, letting him lead her carefully over what felt like a rocky path. Upward, on a slight incline.
He’d promised to take her to dinner somewhere nice, but this obviously wasn’t a restaurant. The unseasonably warm night for early April made outside dining a pleasant idea, but she still wanted some idea of what he had planned. It had taken them two hours to get rid of Ace, not that she blamed him, knowing that, in a week, who knew when she might see him again. The thought caused her heart to squeeze, the pain bittersweet.
After a few more minutes, Archer stopped her and turned her slightly. “All right.” His whisper fanned her cheek. “Open your eyes.”
Gwen blinked in the darkness. She stared in wonder.
Archer had led her high up into the mountains, where they now stood atop of a cliff that jutted a mile up the side of Mount Seraph. The cliff overlooked the city in the distance. Haven lay like a small, glittering jewel, surrounded by peaks cast in night’s shadow. Lights twinkled like tiny fireflies.
“Archer, it’s gorgeous.”
He slid his arms around her from behind, resting his chin on her shoulder. “After what happened, I didn’t want every memory of this city to be bad. I wanted you to take away one image of it you’d love after we went to Japan.”
She rested her head on his shoulder a moment, but then turned around in his arms. He’d set a picnic basket at his feet. So that’s what he’d taken out of the trunk of the car before he took her up here. A bottle of wine stuck out from under the blanket lying over the basket. She grinned at him.
“I didn’t take you for the picnicking type.”
“I am when it’s like this.” His eyes danced. “Dark, secluded, far from anyone who can hear you.”
“You’re such a guy.”
“You know it. Help me spread the blanket.”
Once everything was laid out, and they’d served themselves plates of fried chicken, potatoes salad, and deviled eggs, Archer poured them each a flute of white wine.
They ate and talked, looking out at the city, taking in the first warm night of the year. She looked at him and he cleared his throat.
“What is it?”
He shifted, moving the food and empty dishes away, then stretched out beside her, leaning up on one elbow. “Actually, I brought you here for another reason.”
His eyes glinted in the near darkness and she wished she could see if she imagined the hesitation there.
Archer dug into the side pocket of his black slacks and pulled out a small, black velvet box. Then he sat up and took her hand, setting the box in her palm. Gwen’s heart thudded. She swallowed and lifted the lid.
A gold band gleamed up at her. A large diamond sparkled, tiny blue stones surrounding it. Gwen looked up at him, eyes stinging. A smile tugged at his mouth.
“Marry me, Gwen.” The softness of his voice, the boyish hope in his eyes, the vulnerability in him touched something deep inside her.
A lump grew in her throat, too big for her to find her voice, and she nodded, letting her fingers smooth out the fine lines on his cheeks. Loving the smooth hardness of them.
The realization of how far they’d come, of everything that had happened between them, washed over her, and she blinked back tears. It seemed like years ago, she’d walked into this man’s dojo, asking his help. Never in a million years would she have imagined this.
Archer Drake’s wife. Her eyes watered, turning his perfect visage blurry. She covered her mouth with her fingers.
“Is that a yes, sweet thing?” But he was smiling, his hands gentle on her arms
“Yes. Oh, God, yes.”
He drew her hard against him and his mouth crushed hers on a groan. Gwen laughed softly, happiness bubbling through her.
When she drew back, he slid the ring on her finger. She grinned at it until he tipped her chin up. “I’m giving you the ring for our vanilla lives, but I want to give you something else. I want to have you fitted for a collar, a nice one you choose, in Japan.”
A low heat started between her legs at the thought of wearing something like that. Something that marked her as his in a way a ring didn’t come close to matching.
She nodded, and drew her face up, lips parted for him. �
��I don’t care what kind of collar it is. As long as it’s yours.”
He traced her lips with his fingers, then kissed her, murmuring against them. “It will be. Always.”
Epilogue: A New Beginning
Six months later, Tokyo
She couldn’t believe how high they were. Half a year in this tiny apartment, and the dizzying height still baffled her. Gwen stared down at the walkway that ran between their apartment building and another, the street dwarfed by the distance. A myriad of gardens wound between the rows of apartments, interspersed with small koi ponds. There was a beauty here she’d never find in Haven.
She crossed the room, stopping by the entrance to the bedroom. Archer murmured something and rolled over in his sleep. She slid the door aside. A smile pulled at her lips. On a low cedar bed in the middle of the room, he’d stretched out, one arm hanging over the side. He looked so boyish, so beautiful when he slept, not at all like the badass karate master he was.
She checked her watch. Since it was Sunday, his one day off, he wouldn’t be up for a bit. She had time to finish her latest painting.
Seated at her easel, she looked over the painting. Just a few strokes here and there and it would be done. Soon she’d be finished with her first year at the art school. She’d fallen in love with some of the manga styles artists used here, unable to resist trying her hand at something so different from her own art. It still shocked her how quickly she was developing her own style, even if she’d be years from mastering it. It thrilled her not to have to hide her erotic style the way she always had in Haven.
Behind her, the door to the bedroom slid open and Archer’s feet slapped across the floor from the bedroom into her office.
“Morning.” He rubbed his cheek against hers, the rough stubble making her smile. She stood up and turned her head, meeting his kiss. “Up already?” he asked.
“It’s ten, husband.” God, she loved calling him that.
His palm slapped her ass. “I thought you were sleeping in, wife.” He padded to the fridge in the kitchen. She heard the door open and close, then he came in shaking two bottles of mango punch and handing her one.
