Chapter 33 London
London
Five days have passed since I've been at Archer's, and I'm recovered enough to almost be able to get around like I wasn't shot in the stomach by his evil ex.
I've had my fair share of injuries before, and this was nothing compared to some of the worse ones, especially when I showed up here almost four months ago.
It's strange to think that it's been that long since I arrived in New York.
On one hand, it seems like forever, and on the other, a blink of an eye.
I knew things would be weird as I got adjusted to my new life, but I never imagined it would have gone down like this.
That I would have accidentally developed feelings for the grumpy billionaire tasked to keep me safe.
That a woman I thought was dead because of me would appear in my life, shoot me, and tell me she was coming for the guy I had a crush on, who happened to be her ex-boyfriend.
That the people around me would be the most notorious crime family in the state and merely muttering their last name causes everyone around them to tremble and bow down.
Archer stops typing on his computer and stares at the screen, the silence distracting me from my rampant thoughts. Something is wrong, I can tell from the way his body is tense from head to toe.
"What is it?" I ask him, unsure if I want to hear the answer. I've been waiting for the shoe to drop ever since I agreed to stay here and so far, I've been lucky, but it appears my luck has run dry.
He swallows and doesn't turn toward me. "He's on his way."
"Who is?" I rise from the couch and walk over to Archer, planting my hands on his shoulders as I take a look at the screen, a flashing dot on a map indicating whatever Archer is referring to.
"Joe Vito. His private jet left LAX about a half hour ago. The flight itinerary is for LaGuardia. He should be wheels on the ground in less than six hours."
I rub his shoulders even though he's not the one in danger, I am.
"I need to talk to Madison," Archer announces, making me stop moving completely.
This is what I was worried about. Not Joe Vito, but Archer's ex coming back and finishing what she started.
"No," I tell him despite having no control over what he does. We aren't together, and even if we were, Archer is a grown-ass man who decides his own fate. I couldn't stop him if I tried, although that's not going to prevent me from doing exactly that.
"I need to know what their deal is. I need answers, London." Archer spins in his chair and pulls me onto his lap, wrapping his arms around my waist. "You don't have anything to worry about."
This is the closest we've been since we hooked up in my apartment three weeks ago.
Not counting him helping me when I was shot, other than a small touch here or there, that's been the brunt of our intimacy.
I thought what we had fizzled out, that Archer was only keeping me around because he felt bad for what happened.
But the way he's holding me now unravels feelings I didn't realize were still there.
"I have everything to worry about," I confess. "The love of your life came back from the dead. I can't compete with that."
"This isn't a competition," Archer tells me, but it does nothing to settle my nerves.
Madison was different. More vindictive than I remember, something terrifying and cruel in her eyes that wasn't there all those years ago.
Faking her death changed her, and not for the better.
Even if she doesn't have feelings for Archer, that won't stop her from taking him from me just because she can.
He tilts his head up toward me, his beautiful eyes meeting mine.
I fight the desire to kiss him, not sure if that's what he'd want anyway.
I haven't been sure of anything for weeks, especially what's going on between us.
One minute he's hot, the next he's cold.
And I'm not confident I know what I want anyway, all I know is I feel safe with him.
That simple fact scares me more than anything.
Five hours and twelve minutes after Archer first saw my betrothed's private jet taking off from an airport in California, his phone rings, no number showing on the screen.
He answers it, putting it on speakerphone but not saying a word.
"Archer Sin," Vito's voice comes in clear and sends a chill up my spine.
"Joe Vito." Archer stands from the couch and paces the small space in front of me.
"You know who I am."
"Not by choice."
"I hear you have something that belongs to me."
"And what's that?" Archer asks him, knowing damn well I'm what he's referring to.
I chew on my lip and recall Joe's awkwardly-shaped body, his foul-smelling breath, and how he lingered his gaze on my chest despite being in a hospital gown the last time I saw him.
He reminds me of my father with how he thinks everything and everyone belongs to him.
They say women are often attracted to the same kind of man as their father, but I couldn't be any more repulsed by Joe Vito.
"Is she there, right now, my London girl?"
I hop to my feet and lean toward the phone. "And what if I am? What are you going to do about it?"
Archer widens his eyes and tilts his head, pushing the mute button. "Really?" he whispers even though Joe can't hear him.
"What?" I say. "What's he going to do, show up here and demand I go with him?"
"I mean, maybe, I don't fucking know."
Once Joe finishes laughing, he continues. "There's that London girl of mine."
I could slit his throat just for using the name my father used to call me.
Every time, it grated my nerves knowing there was not a damn thing I could do about it, but with Joe, there's nothing that will stop me from ending his life if he thinks he can take me away from here.
I don't care how fucking untouchable people claim he is, I don’t give a shit about that.
He's already taken more from me than he realizes, making me completely start over in a new city and leave everything behind.
Do I blame my father? Yes. But do I blame Joe Vito, too? Without a doubt.
I push the unmute button, Archer yanking the phone from my reach and lightly smacking my hand.
Joe clears his throat. "I'm glad you two are together.
Tell you what, I'll meet you at your place, say…
ten minutes, depending on traffic. Don't bother leaving, I have the place surrounded, a bullet in both of your heads if you leave.
Don't worry, all I want to do is chat, you have my word.
See you soon." He hangs up without giving either of us a chance to respond.
Archer calmly sets his phone on the desk next to his computer and runs his hand through his hair as he blankly stares out the window.
"What are you doing?" I ask him.
"Thinking." He inhales deeply and nods to himself, turning on his heel and marching to the bedroom.
I follow him in, not sure what he's rummaging through his closet for.
"Put this on." Archer stands with a vest in his grasp, putting it over my shoulders, the weight of it heavy but not too unbearable. He returns to his closet and pulls out a hooded sweatshirt. "And this on over it."
A minute later, I'm swimming in Archer's hoodie and he's tilting my face up toward him. "Stay behind me, please. If I move, you move, okay?"
"Only on one condition," I tell him.
"Name it."
"Kiss me."
Archer's eyes dart back and forth between mine almost like he's considering whether the risk outweighs the reward, finally settling on an answer as he presses his mouth to mine, our lips brushing for the softest kiss. "Come on," he says, running his hand down my arm to grab ahold of my hand.
"What now?" I go with him because what other choice do I have? "And why don't you have one of these vests on?"
"Because I only have the one." Archer doesn't stop until he's at his computer, lowering himself onto the seat and pulling me into his lap. He manages to reach past me to type on the keyboard while still holding me close, countless screens popping up and closing, all of it not making much sense.
"What are you doing?"
Finally, a set of camera feeds pops up on the screen.
"Surveillance." He points to one of them. "This is out front." And then another. "Side of the building." And another. "Back. And this one is the other side. You see this?" He zooms in on a black car, and then a black SUV. "I think Vito was telling the truth about having the place covered."
"Can't you, like, call your brothers or something?" I wrap my arm around his neck and watch the screen as he flits in and out of tabs.
"I'm not talking to Leo, and August has his own issues to deal with." Archer exhales. "And Seven's insane. He'd probably cause more trouble than he's worth. I don't trust Vito, but men like him, they're big on their word."
"So, you're going to talk to him?"
"I don't have another option, London. I knew he was coming but I didn't know he was coming here. I'm unprepared and unequipped for this. I'm not going to let him take you, though, if that's what you're worried about. I'll die before I let that happen."
I skim my fingers through the hair on the back of his head. "That's what I'm worried about, Archer. Not what he'll do to me, but what he'll do to you."
His gaze meets mine, something so intense in the way he's looking at me that it rattles my core. "Don't worry about me, little tornado." Archer's attention splits from me to the computer, the computer taking his full focus as he clicks on one of the tabs. "There he is."
Joe Vito steps out of a black car, matching the ones that Archer had pointed out. He takes a long glance around before climbing the stairs alone.
"He won't try anything if he's by himself," Archer tells me, a sense of comfort coming from his words.
The buzzer to Archer's apartment rings and I jump in his lap, startled by the loud sound even though I should have expected it.