12. Archer #2
"What are you doing, Arch?" Ivy starts toward me but stops when Seven dramatically drops a couple of brown bags onto the counter. "Geez, Sev, what crawled up your ass?"
Seven goes to my fridge and opens it wide.
"What's to drink?" He scans the contents and slams the doors shut, the whole fridge rattling.
He shifts his focus to the cabinet off to the left, taking a full bottle of tequila out and popping the top off it.
After taking a giant swig, he wipes at his mouth and holds out the bottle. "Oh, did you want some?"
"I'm good," I tell him and make my way toward the kitchen, hoping everyone else will, too, instead of noticing how my apartment is nothing like how I usually keep it.
"I only have an hour," August announces.
"Guys." Ivy raises her voice. "Everyone. Sit down, now." She takes the bags and drops them onto the table in my dining room. "I said now."
Seven mumbles something but lowers himself onto a chair, leaning and throwing his tattooed arm over the back of it. "Pull that stick out of your ass, baby sis."
Ivy slams her fist onto the table. "You are two minutes, two fucking minutes, older than me." She takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly. "I don't care who you are, what you've done, who you've killed. I am going to stab each and every one of you if you don't sit down, right now."
I walk over and grab a stack of plates, returning to the table a second later and setting them next to the brown bags. Without saying a word, I sit on one of the chairs and wait for the lecture I'm about to get to begin.
Leo and August follow, August unbuttoning his suit jacket and folding it over his chair first.
"Great, glad we could all get on the same page about something for once." Ivy pulls out several Chinese takeout boxes and slides each one of us a plate. She sits on a chair and waves her arms. "Eat."
Each of us grabs a box, pops it open, and shuffles them around the table to who likes what. I pass her the carton of noodles and say, "I'm sorry, Ivy. I'm an asshole."
She looks at me, her eyes glistening. "You are an asshole."
"Glad we agree on something." Leo smacks me on the back again and digs into an egg roll.
Ivy gasps. "Seven. Is that blood on your arm?"
"Oh shit." Seven laughs. "My bad." He flicks at it like it's going to make the dried mess disappear.
I point to the bathroom. "Go wash up. You know better than that."
"It's not my fault he was a gusher." Seven huffs but stands, goes to the bathroom, and washes the rest of his crime down the drain.
"Who did you kill?" Ivy asks him when he returns.
"Uh, I don't know."
"What do you mean you don't know? How can you kill someone and not know who it is?"
Seven shrugs. "No, really, I don't remember his name. Gary something, maybe."
August clears his throat. "Greg Walters."
"That's right." Seven snaps his fingers and points to August. "That's who it was."
"You're a sociopath, you know that, right?" Ivy shoves a forkful of noodles into her mouth.
"Probably." Seven eats some of his spicy chicken and I'm just glad the focus is on someone else for a change, and not me.
"What's a sociopath?" Leo asks as he gets up from the table and makes his way to the kitchen.
Ivy clears her throat like she was ready for this question, this moment. "A sociopath is someone who shows no regard for right or wrong and ignores the feelings of others."
"Uh, Ivy, babe, if that's the case, I'm pretty sure we're all sociopaths." Leo returns a moment later with a soda in his grasp.
Ivy waves her finger in the air. "No, sociopaths cannot feel empathy and remorse. You might blur the lines of right and wrong, but you have feelings. Seven doesn't."
Seven clutches his chest dramatically. "I'm right here, baby sis." He laughs sharply and continues, "Ah, who am I kidding, I don't give a fuck."
"Case in point," Ivy says. "I mean, he's a psychopath, too. True Gemini nature. This is where you charm people, manipulate and use them to your advantage."
August and I sit there, quietly eating our food, and exchange a glance.
I reach for my phone, doing a quick look at the tracker and noting London's whereabouts.
She's at the coffee shop she met Grace in, and has been for quite some time.
If I were alone I'd pull up the surveillance feed and see exactly what she's doing, but my nosey family would want to know what I'm doing and who I'm watching.
"And what am I?" Leo asks Ivy. "I'm sure you've psychoanalyzed all of us."
"I have." Ivy grins like the Cheshire cat. She wipes at her mouth before answering him. "So, I'd say you have textbook narcissistic tendencies."
"What makes you so sure?"
"Where do I start? Hm, well, you are super competitive, materialistic, arrogant, jealous, hypersensitive to criticism, you avoid responsibility like the plague, you're insecure—"
Leo puts his hand in the air. "I think we get the point, Ivy." He shakes his head and mumbles under his breath. "I'm not any of that stuff."
Seven scratches his chin. "I think I have that, too."
"Is that a new tattoo?" I ask him, a design consisting of a bunch of dark angled lines that don't really make any one specific thing covering his throat.
He tilts his head, exposing the flaky area. "Yeah, itches like hell."
"You're snowing all over the dining room table, Seven. Go put some lotion on that thing," I tell him.
"Carmen was asking about you," Seven says. "Said it's been a while since she's seen you."
"I ran out of ideas." For a while, I did nothing but get tattooed, scheduling an appointment every few days, covering section after section of my body, hoping the pain would do something to ease the empty pit in my chest, but it never worked.
And once I finished my arms and the front and back of my torso, I decided to take a break.
"Let's talk about what's wrong with August," Leo blurts out.
Ivy shifts her gaze to August, something concealed I can't quite make out being spoken between them. "Same as Archer. Control issues. Although Archer is a germaphobe and August is a workaholic with an unhealthy dose of perfectionism."
"You get one degree in psychology and think you're—" August blurts out, his tone no doubt surprising all of us.
I slide my phone back out, ignoring the argument between August and Ivy, rest it on my thigh, and watch the tracker dot of London stay in the same spot.
My chest tightens at the thought of her having found the tracker and removing it.
I frantically push a few buttons and locate the Find My iPhone feature, breathing a sigh of relief at seeing it in the same spot, too.
Maybe she has no idea I put it on there.
Maybe she really is just hanging out in the coffee shop. That makes the most sense.
"Don't talk to me like I'm a child," Ivy says, pulling me from my own little world.
"Guys, seriously," I speak up. "Can we have one meal without fighting? We're all we have. Can we pretend like we like each other?"
Ivy grips her fists and shakes them loose. "Fine." She pats her dress pants and returns to her seat.
August immediately shifts the conversation like he wasn't just being a giant asshole. "How's business, Arch? Anything I should be aware of?"
Ivy rolls her eyes so aggressively I'm concerned they're going to pop out of her head. "Always business with you," she mutters.
August turns toward her. "Do you have something you'd like the rest of us to hear?"
Seven reaches for the bottle of tequila he brought to the table, takes a long swig of it, and watches things unfold. "I missed this."
"No, August," Ivy says, her tone laced with venom. "By all means, let's talk business."
"Investments are up," I tell him. "Finances are solid. We aren't taking a hit quite as bad as the West Coast sector but considering the fallout, things could be worse for them."
"And security?" August adds.
"Do you doubt my abilities?" I ask.
"Not at all, but I understand you've been under some stress."
"Some stress? Are you serious?" This time it's my turn for my cheeks to get hot with anger at August.
"I didn't mean any offense." August leans back in his chair. "It's perfectly within my nature to question the integrity of things."
The integrity of things, is he fucking serious? I've done nothing but keep our family affairs in order, how dare he question anything I do? He's lucky I'm still involved, let alone contributing in the manner I do. A thankless fucking job, that's what this is.
Seven slams the tequila bottle on the table, drawing all our attention toward him. "How come no one asks me about business?" He belches and follows it up with a hiccup.
"Because all you do is kill people," Ivy chimes in. "Tell me, what have you done this week other than kill people?"
"I, uh…" Seven trails off and gets lost in his recollection. "Wait, I broke that guy's kneecaps on Tuesday. That counts, right?"
"Sure." Ivy gives Seven a soft, yet condescending smile.
I'm taking in the curve of her cheeks, noticing how it doesn't quite meet the eyes when my entire life flashes before my eyes as the door to my apartment opens.
Seven reaches for his waistband gun, Leo doing the same, as Ivy slides the small dagger she keeps in her ankle holster out.
I hear her voice before I see her, and do nothing but fucking panic. "Put your weapons down," I whisper-shout to my family.
They comply partially, holding them behind their backs as London steps into the apartment, her friend Grace, who I haven't officially met yet, on her heels.
Fuck, fuck, fuck.
London starts, "Oh shit, I didn't know you had company."
"Company?" Ivy calls out to me over her shoulder. "Who the fuck is this?"
I rush around the table and make a face that hopefully says, Please put the fucking weapons away, to my family. "Uh, this is…" Come on, Archer, think of something, anything. Perhaps something clever or elaborate to explain why two random women are standing at the entrance of your apartment.
"I'm London," London says, marching straight up to the table and leaving Grace behind. She extends her hand, and for a long moment, I forget that she has a cast on her leg. How she's managing to walk so well in one heel, I'll never understand.
Ivy stares at London, at her hand, and with such poise, flips the dagger into her left arm and conceals it while shaking London's hand with her right. "I'm Ivy. Pleasure."
The two of them size each other up and I'm not certain my heart has ever beat harder than it has at this very moment.
I step forward, my mouth opening. "London is staying with me for a little while."
Ivy whips her head toward me. "I'm sorry, what?"
Seven glides the tequila bottle across the table, his sights locking on Grace, who remains quiet. "And what do we have here…" He saunters over to her, licking his lips and looking at her from head to toe. "Damn, baby girl. Are you an angel because…"
Grace holds her finger out toward him. "Immediately no."
Ivy chuckles, Grace's comment breaking the thick tension between her and London. Although, I'm not sure London gets the memo.
Grace keeps her head high as she bypasses Seven's borderline offensive remark and makes her way over to the rest of us. "I'm Grace."
"Right, yeah." I shift to the group. "London, Grace, this is August, Leo, Ivy, and…that’s Seven." I reach out to Grace. "Archer."
Grace shakes my hand, firm and quick, to the point.
"Nice to meet you," Leo tells her.
"Pleasure is all mine," August adds.
Ivy scowls at August like he's done something wrong but I'm not sure what. "So how do you two know each other?" Ivy flits to me and London.
"Oh," London begins. "We're friends of friends. I'm new in town, an extended visit, if you may. Archer was kind enough to let me crash here until I got a place of my own." She walks over, gripping my shoulder between her arms. "Archer's such a nice guy, you know?"
Ivy laughs. "Yeah, sure is." She plants her hand on her hip and I wonder how much sass my apartment can take before it implodes. I've been dealing with a heavy dose of it all week with London, and with Ivy added into the mix, it's a recipe for disaster. "Why didn't you tell us about this, Arch?"
London speaks up without giving me a chance to. "It's my fault, honestly. I've kept him rather preoccupied." She pats my chest. "Haven't I, Arch?"
I chuckle nervously and consider how quickly Ivy is going to murder London, especially considering London's current condition. Still, she doesn't seem to be backing down despite having a disadvantage. Maybe she's crazier than I gave her credit for.
"As truly entertaining as this all is…" August peels his jacket off the chair and shoves his arms into each sleeve. "I must be going."
"I cleared your schedule today, what could you possibly have going on?" Ivy barks at him.
"Things, dear, things." August straightens his collar. "Brother, it was great seeing you. Let me know if you'd like to continue that conversation." He shoots me a quick look and nods stiffly at Leo. "Brother."
"What about me?" Seven protests, throwing his arms out to the sides, the tequila bottle still in his grasp.
"And you, brother, are an alcoholic." August grasps Seven's shoulder on the way to the door, slipping out without another word.
Leo slips his gun into the back of his pants and tucks his shirt over it slyly. "I should probably get going, too."
"You guys are the worst.” Ivy pouts. "Once a month, that's all I ask."
"What's once a month?" London asks her.
Seven leans against the back of my couch, his obvious stare glued to Grace.
Most women fold to Seven's passes, even if they're degrading and a bit repulsive.
They're usually drawn to his dark hair, endless tattoos, and mismatched eyes, one green, one blue.
He's got a sort of moth to a flame kind of vibe, only people don't realize it until he's chewed them up and spit them out.
Seven really is the most psychotic of us all, making each one of us question our loyalty from time to time.
He's unhinged, and if it weren't for Ivy keeping him in line, keeping us all in line, our entire empire would crumble.
Grace acts like he's some drunk at a bar, not bothered by him enough to give him a second glance. It's kind of comical, watching him shoot his pathetic shot and getting turned down.
"Dinner," Ivy tells London. "Once a month, all I ask of my brothers is for a family meal."
London stiffens next to me. "Brothers?"
"Yeah, Archer didn't tell you?" Ivy meets my gaze. "You ashamed of us, brother?"