Chapter 12 – Betsy
CHAPTER TWELVE
BETSY
Stretching out my muscles, I slowly blink my eyes open to see sunlight streaming through the windows. I sigh, feeling like I’ve just had the best sleep ever. My body and mind needed it. Sitting up, I reach for my phone and see a message from Eden.
E: Hey, Josh should be with you by ten am. We managed to temporarily fix the leak. I hope Archer behaved. X
Archer… Fuck, I had forgotten about him. I look at the time on my phone and see it’s nine-thirty in the morning. If I lie in bed for another thirty minutes, he will be gone, and I won’t have to see him.
B: All good, I’ve just woke up. x
I place my phone back on the bedside table and sigh, lying there in complete silence, listening for sounds of Archer moving around.
When I don’t hear anything, I relax a little.
Maybe he’s gone already? He could have gone to the college offices first thing to get a replacement key.
That would make sense. He won’t want to be wasting time babysitting me when he needs to get access to his property.
Suddenly, a rat-tat-tat at my bedroom door has me screaming. “Shit!” I screech, placing my hand on my chest.
“I’ve brought you some coffee,” I hear Archer’s deep voice say from the other side of the door.
“Er, just a second!” I call out. How the fuck did he know I was awake? I didn’t even hear him come up the stairs. Did he just float over the squeaky floorboards?! I leap out of bed and immediately regret it. My knee is a little swollen and sore from my clumsiness last night. “Shit!” I hiss.
I hobble to my door and unlock it, opening it just a crack to peep through. Seeing Archer standing there with two coffees, one in each hand, and a brown paper bag clutched between his arm and chest, I instantly smell cinnamon.
“Can I come in? Or are you just going to sniff the cinnamon bun through the crack of the door?” he asks, arching a brow.
I step back. He has me there. Cinnamon buns are my Achilles heel.
I walk back around to my bed, trying my best to walk normally and not like some lame animal, but as I turn to sit down on my bed, he’s right there.
I hadn’t realised he was so close. “You’re hurt,” he says, looking intense.
“It’s only a little stiff. It will be okay when the bruising comes out,” I state softly as I sit down.
He hands me a coffee and places the paper bag on my nightstand before he moves to the armchair across from me, his long legs stretching out before him, his gaze fixed on me.
“Do you have to stare at me so intently this early in the morning?” I blurt out before quickly covering my mouth, realising what I’ve just said.
“Sorry, er, I can be a little cranky in the morning,” I apologise.
“Drink your coffee.” He nods to the cup in my hand.
I take a sip, focusing on the tiny bit of burnt rug where I tried to burn incense and nearly set my whole house on fire. “You know that Josh will be keeping watch over me. You don’t have to stick around. You need to get to the office and get a new key for your house, right?” I ask.
“I had one delivered this morning, along with these coffees and your bun,” he states.
My eyes flicker to his in surprise. “How?” I ask.
“Fraternity. All I had to do was alert them, and the ones that live close by sorted it.” He shrugs, sipping his coffee while peering at me over his cup.
“Oh,” I breathe, because what else is there to say? Bravo on having minions that run around and do shit for you at your every whim. I suppose there isn’t much difference between us and the lap dogs.
“Eat,” he demands.
I arch a brow. “Sorry?” I counter.
“Eat. You need to eat.” I look at the bag and then back to him.
“You tell your frat boys who it was for?” I ask.
“No,” he answers.
“Sure about that?” I press. “Because I’m now thinking that my coffee may have laxatives in it, and for all I know the cream cheese frosting on that bun could be jizz.”
His lips curve into an amused smile. “Jizz?” He smirks.
I try to keep a straight face. “Yes, jizz. Your little fraternity hates me. You hate me. So why would I trust anything you or your little minions give me?” I ask.
“I could never hate you,” he retorts.
That reply has my insides lurching in surprise. I clear my throat. “Maybe you don’t totally hate me now, but you did. All those things you did, that your frat house has done, and are still doing. Let’s just say you don’t do that to people you like.” I snort.
After my outburst, I feel a little braver.
It was probably the fantastic wank I had last night.
I laugh out loud to myself at my thoughts before quickly schooling my features.
Archer looks at me confused. I mean, it could also be that standing up to a bully as an adult is a little easier than when you are in high school.
Although Archer still manages to make my palms clammy and my heart feel like it’s going to explode out of my chest when he gets too close.
Maybe that is just him. He has that asshole presence about him.
“Maybe I like your reaction when you are provoked,” he says before taking another sip of his coffee.
“Huh?” I ask, frowning.
“Did you ever think that maybe, just maybe, I like doing those things to provoke you, to wake up the wild animal you work so hard to keep locked in?” he states, his voice low and smooth like velvet.
My eyes are seared to his, unable to look away as his words bounce around in my head, desperately trying to figure out what he means by that.
“I, I don’t understand,” I stutter.
He stands and closes the distance towards me. I look up at him as he leans down. “You are not weak. You are strong. More than you believe.”
I stare up at him, unable to move. Unable to form any words. “Er.”
He looks out the window, breaking the moment, or is it a stare-off? I have no idea. His jaw tenses. “Your bodyguard has arrived,” he says through gritted teeth, his eyes now cold. “Drink your coffee and eat your bun. I will see you around,” he says over his shoulder as he makes his way to the door.
“Archer?” I call out. He pauses and turns his gaze to mine. “Thank you,” I say with a soft smile on my lips.
He returns the grin. “Sure thing.” Then he’s gone.
I hear the front door open and close, and I scramble to look out my front bedroom window, watching him approach Josh in the van.
I’m not sure what was said, but it looks heated.
I follow Archer as he makes his way back to his house.
I jump out of bed, dropping the cinnamon bun on the floor as I go to look out my other window.
When I reach it, I nearly spill my coffee all over me.
Archer is standing there at his window opposite me, his emerald eyes glinting with what feels like praise, like me looking for him has pleased him.
I awkwardly lift my palm up and give an awkward wave before I yank my curtains closed.
“Well, that was weird,” I mumble to myself before walking back to my bed and picking up the bag off the floor. Pulling out the bun, I take a massive bite, moaning at how good it tastes. Damn, how did he know these were my favourites?
I sit in bed in silence, enjoying my coffee and bun before I grab my laptop and get to work.
Reading more and more about this Verity woman makes the bun I just ate curdle around my stomach.
However, I do manage to track down her last known address.
I pull out my phone and take a picture of it and send it to Mor and Eden.
B: We need to check this place out.
M: Tonight.
E: Be at the Sanctuary for nine.
B: Sure, surveillance only.
M: If the bitch is there, we are ending her tonight.
B: We still need actual evidence that it’s her.
E: What? The fact that she’s like fucking Carrie on crack is not enough evidence for you?
I snort at Eden’s response.
B: By law, no. We could bring her in for questioning.
M: I will get the Den ready. Just in case.
B: See you later.
I place my phone down and decide to continue researching Verity. I want to make sure we are well prepared if she’s there. I spend the next two hours researching before I double-check over the last known members of the Savage Sisters. The rest check out.
My stomach starts to rumble, and when I look at the clock, I see it’s after one.
I hadn’t even realised time had gone by that quickly.
I’m still in the same T-shirt I went to bed in.
Oh well, I’m going out later. I will just shower and change then.
I get up and walk over to my window and pull open the curtains again, feeling slightly disappointed that Archer isn’t there.
I shake my head at the stupid thought. Just because we had a few hours of being civil to each other doesn’t mean things have changed. We are not suddenly BFFs.
I make my way downstairs to make myself some food, but when I open the fridge and see a brown paper bag in there with ‘Little Gremlin’ written on it, I reach for it.
Pausing my hand midway, I’m worried it could be another prank.
I force myself to grab it and place it on my kitchen counter, just staring at it, wondering if I open it or chuck it straight in the bin.
I nibble on my lip, and as my curiosity gets the better of me, I yank it open, then step back like it's going to explode in my face. When it doesn’t, I take a cautious step forward and lean on my tiptoes and peer into the open bag.
When I see that it looks like it’s just food and not a pile of exploding shit, I take a closer look and see a note in there. I pause, pulling it out to read.
Little gremlin, your favourite noodles for lunch. Eat.
I reread it, then turn the piece of paper over to see if he’s written anymore.
Nothing. “Bossy much,” I mutter, but I can’t deny the smile that is playing across my lips.
Pulling out the tub of Singapore vermicelli noodles, I place them in my microwave and heat them up.
He’s right, they are my favourite noodles.
How did he know? How does he seem to know so much about me? Yet I know nothing about him?!
The microwave pings, breaking me away from my thoughts. I take out the tub and pour them into a bowl before heading into my living room, where I curl up on the couch and flick on the TV, leaving on an old movie I used to watch with my mom. High Society. I sigh in comfort and eat my noodles.
A knock at the door has me frowning. I don’t get visitors, and the only people that knock on my door are either the mailman or a delivery driver. I place my noodles down on the coffee table and walk over to the door. Peering through the peephole, I see it’s Josh.
I sigh and open the door. “Hey.”
Josh gives me a relaxed smile. “Listen, I know I don’t normally ask this, but I had three cups of coffee, and I really need to fucking pee.” He winces.
I snort out a laugh and step back, opening the door wider. “Come on in. Top of the stairs on the left.”
“Thanks,” he breathes as he runs up the stairs two at a time.
I laugh and shut the door before returning back to my noodles and film.
As I’m placing a large forkful of noodles in my mouth, a loud banging sounds on my door.
I place the fork back into the tub and get to my feet, eying the door sceptically.
I peer through the peephole and see Archer standing there looking furious.
His green eyes are glowing with anger. I open the door just a crack
“Where is he?” he growls.
I scrunch up my nose. “Huh?” I ask, completely confused as to what the fuck is going on.
Archer pushes on the door, forcing me to step back.
“Hey!” I yell, but Archer just ignores me and storms past me.
At that moment, Josh comes down the stairs, whistling while still zipping up his jeans. Jesus, I hope he washed his hands.
Archer braces himself, his hands clenched into tight fists at his side; every muscle of his body is strung tight. “What the fuck did I tell you?” he growls in a deep, thunderous roar.
Josh rolls his eyes and holds up his hopefully washed hands in surrender. “Just needed the bathroom, that’s all.”
His answer doesn’t seem to appease Archer, as he still stands there like a rabid animal ready to attack.
I move to stand between them, looking at each of them, still completely unaware of what the hell is going on. “Josh, you can go back to your van now,” I state, my gaze solely fixed on Archer. Yet Archer’s gaze doesn’t leave Josh.
“Thanks for that, B,” Josh says with a wink.
I frown. “Er, you’re welcome. I hope you washed your hands,” I yell after him as he shuts the front door behind him. I grin and turn my attention back to Archer, whose now furious gaze is aimed at me. I immediately take a step back, bracing myself, ready for whatever fight he wants to bring my way.
He notices and swallows. Sighing, he rubs his face before running his fingers through his hair. “Fuck,” he breathes.
“Is everything alright?” I ask with concern mixed in with my already growing confusion.
He looks at me, his gaze now pained. “It’s fine. All of it is just fucking fine,” he says before turning and striding out of my house, leaving my front door wide open.
Quickly, I move towards the door and see his retreating back as he storms up the stairs of his house.
I open my mouth to shout but quickly slam it shut, not knowing what it is I want or need to say.
I close my door and lean against it, still wondering what the hell just happened.
The music of Who Wants to Be a Millionaire snaps me out of my spiralling thoughts, making me smile at the TV.
I make my way back to the couch and continue to eat my noodles while singing along with Frank Sinatra.