Chapter 16
Archer
Icannot fucking believe London agreed to go on a date with that…that…scumbag.
Pacing in front of my computer, I keep glancing at the street cameras showing me London while she walks back to my apartment complex with Drew fucking Kingsley, Camille's older brother.
I can't stand him and his stupid pretty boy face.
Do I know much about him to justify this visceral response? Not really, but my gut feeling should count for something, and I don't like the dude.
She shouldn't be going out with him, and she shouldn't be allowing him to walk her home.
They pause at the entrance of the apartment building and by the time I realize I don't have audio, they finish whatever they were saying, Drew taking London's hand in his to kiss the top of it.
"Fucking show-off," I mutter and wait for her to come inside before I close out the footage and pull something else up. Only, I don't have it in me to play pretend, so I shut the screen off and make my way over to the door, opening it when London approaches.
She steps inside, not saying a word, the garment bag in her grasp.
"Did you use the credit card I gave you?" I ask her, knowing damn well she didn't.
"No."
"You used cash?"
"No." London kicks off her shoe and leaves it scattered on the floor, completely out of place.
"How did you pay for it then?" I lock the door and wait for her to answer, my arms crossing over my chest.
"I'm not really in the mood, Archer. Can we fight about this some other time?"
"You just don't want to tell me," I press. "Why?"
She turns toward me, her eyes meeting mine, something hidden in her expression I can't quite place. "Because it's none of your fucking business, that's why."
"What the hell got into you?" I step closer. "Did something happen? Did he do something?"
London narrows her gaze. "Did who do what?"
"Drew," I blurt out.
"How did you know I was with Drew? Did you stalk me? How do you even know his name?"
"He's Camille's brother. I saw you out front. Don't be so full of yourself, I wouldn't stalk you. Now, I answered your questions, you answer mine."
"Drew bought it, okay? Are you happy?" London rolls her eyes so intensely that I swear they must have touched the back of her head.
"Why?" The word almost comes out of my mouth like a growl. I can barely recognize the strange sensation running through me.
"Why are you being such an asshole, Archer?" London lets out a breath. "I'm not in the mood."
"You kiss me and then let him buy you a dress?"
"Excuse me? You kissed me!"
"It was a mistake."
"I'm well fucking aware, Archer. And it won't happen again.
Ever. Plus, you're a bad kisser anyway." London turns on her heel and storms away, slipping into my bedroom and slamming the door shut.
A second later, she yanks the door open and pokes her head out.
"I have a date with Drew on Thursday. You have two days to get over it and yourself.
" She closes herself back in, and when I glance down both of my hands are balled into fists.
I fucking hate that she has this effect on me and despite my better judgment, there doesn't seem to be anything I can do about it.
Two antagonizing days later, London spends far too much time getting ready in the bathroom.
We barely spoke the last forty-eight hours, each passing second adding to the wall building between us. It's strange being in this close proximity to someone but feeling so far away. I can't stand it, but it's partially my doing.
I should have never agreed to allow London to stay here in the first place, that mistake compiling on top of all the others.
I absolutely never should have kissed her—that was reckless of me, stupid even. I couldn't help it, she was frustrating the hell out of me and the only rational thing my brain could come up with was to shut her up.
London steps out of the bathroom, my attention glued to the computer screen in front of me. I refuse to look at her, to witness whatever she spent hours on in the bathroom.
She clears her throat and makes her way to the table her purse is sitting on, her heel clicking against the floor.
When I don't acknowledge her, she continues to the door. "I'll be back later, don't wait up for me." London doesn't bother waiting for my response, not that I was going to give her one anyway, and leaves a second later.
I hurriedly start typing on my computer, pulling up the camera feed from outside my apartment complex where Drew is already waiting, a Jaguar parked out front that must belong to him.
I watch him watch her, his face lighting up the second she approaches. She gives him a soft smile, but even through the pixelated feed, I can tell it's not genuine.
They exchange a few words before he escorts her to the car, opening the back door for her and shutting it.
He moves around to the other side, climbing in and no doubt telling his driver they can go.
The car takes off and it dawns on me that I don't have access to their journey to the restaurant.
As long as they stick to the plan, I've already gained access to Rao's and am fully prepared there, but until then, I'm in the dark.
Unless.
Fingers moving swiftly, I pull up London's cell phone information and see about hacking into the camera, turning the camera on to give me audio inside of the car. But my search is halted when I realize London has shut her phone off, my pulse picking up at having hit a dead end.
I'm going to have to accept that for a little while I won't know what's going on, even if it kills me a little inside.
I google Drew until I find his phone number and attempt to hack into his device, but the service is too unsteady to let me fully connect.
"Fuck." I slam my fist against the desk, my fingers still swollen from my fight with Seven.
I haven't spoken to him either, but that's how our family usually operates. We fight, we don't talk, and then we pretend like nothing happened. It's not the healthiest, but neither is our entire family dynamic.
The next forty minutes are agonizing as I dart from street cam to street cam and watch them crawl through traffic toward the restaurant.
I hate that I wasn't more prepared, but I didn't think this through, something that isn't like me at all.
I'm always calculated and precise, always on top of the things that could go wrong and every variable that might pop up.
But when it comes to London, my head gets jumbled and I make mistakes.
I cannot afford to mess up, not again, not with her.
Switching the feed to the camera outside of Rao's, I hold my breath as Drew steps out of the car and comes around to open London's door. He holds out his hand, her dainty palm sliding into his. He guides her onto the sidewalk and toward the entrance of the restaurant.
London's dress fits her curves well, the delicate fabric hugging every inch of her in the right places, and somehow concealing the cast on her leg. She walks with ease, not alerting anyone that her leg is even injured.
My phone rings, stealing my attention, Leo's name across the screen. I click the green button and put it on speakerphone, my gaze returning to the computer.
"What do you need?" I ask him.
"Why do you assume I need something?"
"Because you never call me just to talk."
He clears his throat, hopefully signaling he's getting to the point of the call. "That deal with August and the Branford brothers."
"What about it?"
"Did it go through?"
"Why?"
"Inquiring minds want to know." He pauses. "Come on, Arch, you can tell me. I won't tell anyone."
"Why didn't you call August and ask him?"
"I did. He has his calls going through Ivy and she wouldn't say shit."
"Maybe that's for a reason."
"What did I do?"
"It's not what you did," I confess. "It's what you might do. You're hotheaded. You act on impulse. It's a sensitive deal and August can't afford any chances."
"So, it didn't go through then…because you'd tell me if it did." Leo continues, "What don't I know? What's the holdup? What's got August's panties in such a bunch?"
"I have to get going, Leo, I'm in the middle of something."
"You making a move on London, is that it?" He chuckles. "Ivy doesn't trust her, you know?"
"Ivy doesn't trust anyone," I tell him because it's the truth. I'm surprised she trusts us, and we've been there for each other through shit that no one should ever have to go through.
London walks through the restaurant, Drew's hand on her lower back, his body entirely too close to hers. I wait until she's seated and contemplate my next move. It's not that I don't want her to have a good time, I just don't want it to happen with him.
"Come on, brother. I promise I won't act on it. Tell me what's going on, I won't take no for an answer."
I consider my options—I could easily hang up on Leo, but his persistent ass would keep calling, and then no doubt show up to my apartment and ruin any chance I have of keeping an eye on London.
But if I tell him, I'd be going against my family's wishes and potentially ruin the deal they're working on.
Something is getting ruined either way. There's a chance he keeps his word and his mouth shut, though, and that's a gamble I'm going to have to take.
"The Manor brothers," I confess. Our rivals, our biggest enemies, the bane to our fucking existence. They hate us, we hate them, it's a vicious cycle of who can fuck over who worst and, in this case, they're trying to get in the way of the deal we're trying to make with the Branford brothers.
It should have been simple, completely easy-breezy.
We offered them a handsome rate for their side of town, and in exchange, our territory would expand, giving us a stronger foothold in the East Coast sector.
They've lost their asses the last few years while Johnny Jones has expanded into their area, but with our backing, we could push out what he's trying to infringe on.