Chapter Eight
Archie
Archie sat stiffly in Joe’s living room, staring at the wall as the echo of the slammed door rang in his ears.
It had happened fast. Too fast. One second, Joe was blocking Brogan at the threshold, telling him there was nothing to say, and the next—bam.
The door shut, cutting Brogan off like he was nothing more than a stranger.
Joe walked back into the room, still fuming, and Archie forced himself to meet his cousin’s gaze. “Thanks,” he muttered, voice low. “For—keeping him away.”
Joe nodded but said nothing, just crossed his arms and leaned against the wall, as if waiting for Archie to admit what they both knew.
That part of him had wanted to hear Brogan out.
He wouldn’t admit it, though. Not even to himself.
What was there left to hear? Brogan had let Jade throw him out like he was disposable. Maybe it was better this way—clean break. No questions. No explanations.
Archie exhaled sharply, rubbing a hand over his face. It was just another ending in a life full of them.
Then the doorbell rang.
Joe muttered something under his breath, shaking his head, and went to answer it. Archie turned, watching as the door swung open, revealing Rafael, his uniform slightly rumpled, his expression unreadable.
Archie’s stomach clenched.
“What now?” Joe asked, eyes narrowing.
Rafael stepped inside, sighing like he’d been dealing with more than his fair share of problems tonight. “Found Brogan arguing at the motel,” he said.
Archie straightened. “With who?”
“Jade.”
Archie tensed, fingers gripping his knees.
“I broke it up,” Rafael continued. “Got them separated, but I’m here to tell you something, Archie.”
Archie swallowed hard, waiting.
“Stay away from Brogan,” Rafael said, voice firm. “He’s dangerous.”
Archie frowned, the words hitting wrong. “Dangerous?”
Joe nodded, agreeing too easily, like he’d been waiting for someone else to say what he’d been wanting to tell him. “You don’t need him in your life, Archie. You saw what happened.”
Archie’s mind reeled, frustration curling under his skin. Brogan wasn’t dangerous. Infuriating, maybe. Reckless. But dangerous?
Rafael sighed, his patience thinning. “Listen, I don’t know what history you two have in one day, but I know what I saw. It wasn’t just an argument. It was something ready to explode.” He shifted his stance. “And I don’t want to be picking up the pieces when it does.”
Joe clapped a hand on Archie’s shoulder, giving him a firm, protective cousin look. “You’re better off without him.”
Archie forced himself to nod, to agree, even if the knot in his chest said otherwise.
Maybe Rafael was right.
Maybe Brogan was a threat to his peace.
Maybe this was exactly how it was supposed to end. Then he went over his thoughts again. He wanted Brogan. There had to be a way back for them. Archie always wanted what he couldn’t have.
Archie stiffened at Rafael’s words, irritation sparking. He’d had enough people telling him what to do lately—Joe, Jade, now Rafael.
He pushed to his feet, eyes dark with defiance. “Mind your own business, Rafael.”
The officer didn’t flinch. “I’m making it my business.”
Archie shouted, shaking his head. “Brogan’s not dangerous.”
Rafael sighed, crossing his arms. “You weren’t there, Archie. You didn’t see the way he lost it.”
“I don’t care what you saw,” Archie shot back, getting louder. “You don’t know him.”
Joe stepped in, trying to calm the storm brewing between them. “Archie—”
But Archie wasn’t done. “This isn’t some crime scene you get to investigate,” he snapped at Rafael. “You have no say in this.”
Rafael’s gaze hardened. “I’m telling you this for your own good.”
Archie let out a humorless laugh. “Yeah? Since when do you get to decide what’s good for me?”
Rafael opened his mouth to reply, but Archie would not let this go on any longer. His blood was already boiling, his chest tight with frustration.
Without another word, he grabbed his jacket, helmet and duffle bag, shoved past Joe and Rafael, and stalked out the front door.
He didn’t know where he was going. He just needed out. Away from the suffocating weight of other people deciding his life for him.
He swung onto his motorcycle, started the engine, and tore down the road, the cool night air whipping against his face.
He rode aimlessly for a while, letting the hum of the engine drown out everything else.
Then, without thinking, his eyes caught the dull neon flicker of the motel sign.
He pulled into the parking lot, killed the engine, and walked inside.
“Need a room,” he muttered to the clerk.
The key slid across the counter without question.
Archie took it, climbed the stairs, and locked himself in the quiet.
For the first time in days, no one was telling him what to do.
Yet, somehow, he still felt trapped.
Archie stood at the motel window, watching the quiet street except for the occasional hum of a passing car. Across the way, neon letters flickered in tired succession—Pints ’n Pool—a small-town bar that looked as unassuming as Foggy Basin itself.
He sighed on his way to the bathroom, then he ran cold water over his face, the dull fluorescent bathroom light casting unforgiving shadows.
The motel’s complimentary toothpaste tasted slightly stale, but it did the job.
A quick rinse with cheap mouthwash, and he was ready.
Ready for what? He wasn’t sure. A distraction, maybe.
A few drinks. Something to dull the frustration buzzing beneath his skin.
Locking his room behind him, he stepped onto the sidewalk, crossing the tree-lined street to the bar.
Inside, Pints ’n Pool was exactly what he had expected—dim lighting, a scuffed wooden floor, and the scent of old beer soaked into the walls.
A row of pool tables sat at the back, mostly empty, except for those sitting at the small tables.
The bar itself was small, worn smooth from years of elbows pressed against its surface.
A classic rock song clambered through the speakers, just loud enough to make conversation require a little effort.
Archie settled at the far end of the bar, nodding at the bartender as he ordered a beer. The glass was cold when it slid into his hands, condensation forming beneath his fingers. He took a long sip, letting the bitterness settle.
Then, like some twisted joke from the universe, the door swung open.
Brogan.
Archie didn’t turn his head, but he felt the heavy presence the second Brogan’s boots hit the floorboards.
It didn’t take long for him to spot Archie and make his way over, slipping onto the stool beside him like this was normal.
“You’re avoiding me,” Brogan said, voice rough.
Archie exhaled, setting his beer down. “Take the hint.”
Brogan ignored the jab, leaning forward, arms resting on the bar. “There’s nothing going on with Jade.”
Archie jeered, shaking his head. “Sure, that’s why I was thrown out in one day.”
“Don’t tell me Jade threw you out of my home—” Brogan sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. “What happened?”
Archie turned to face him. “He basically told me to leave. You two were getting married, and he didn’t want me in your space.” Archie relived the pain of Jade’s words.
Brogan held his gaze, frustration simmering beneath his expression. “We’re not getting married. I’d never marry him,” he said. “I told you last night, I don’t have anyone in my life and no one else would rent a room. Only you.”
The bartender slid a frosty mug of beer across the bar to Brogan, then casually asked Archie if he wanted another beer. A familiar glint in his eye seemed to show he knew Brogan. Archie nodded, slightly jealous of the attention the bartender was giving Brogan.
Archie narrowed his eyes. “I know what you said, but Jade was convincing and threatening. He acted like he was reclaiming his space in your home and his place in your life, and I was just in the fucking way.”
“No,” Brogan said, voice low. “None of that is true. And I want you with me. My word is good.” Brogan placed his hand on Archie’s. “Believe me. Not Jade.”
That cut deep. Too deep. Archie looked away, letting silence fill the space between them, the low sound of the bar drowning out his thoughts. Finally, Archie let out a slow breath. “Do you mean that?”
Brogan nodded. “Come home with me, then?”
“I rented a room at the motel across the street.”
“Oh no. Let’s get your things and take them home.”
“Everything is at Joe’s, but I left my helmet in the room.”
“Then we’ll pick that up first and then go to Joe’s.”
Archie hated to think about how Joe would react, but he wanted to stay with Brogan.
He left a generous wad of cash, easily covering their drinks and a tip.
Together, they pushed away from the bar, stepping back into the night, the quiet weight of things unsaid pressing against them as they crossed the street.