5. London
Chapter 5
London
I 'm halfway through my bagel when Archer's phone rings.
He slides it out of his pocket and immediately leaves his stool. He presses a firm finger in the air toward me and my heart stutters because I'm certain it's Silver that's calling him.
Archer confirms it a second later when he answers. "Silver."
"Can I talk to him?" I whisper-shout and follow Archer as he tries to get away from me.
"Yeah, she's here."
I reach out toward Archer and attempt to tug at his arm but it's no use, he pulls away from me and turns around, extending his arm with his hand on my forehead to keep me at a distance.
"Chill," he mutters quietly to me.
I jut out my bottom lip and slump my shoulders.
Archer releases his hand slowly, and when I remain in place, he obliges me by putting Silver on speakerphone.
Silver's voice comes in ragged over the phone. "She's been through hell and back, Arch. Do me a favor and take care of her?"
Archer's intense stare meets mine and he looks away. "A favor, huh? I thought we were already square after the last one, Silver?"
"We were, but hey, now I owe you one, okay? Anything. You name it. You know how this works."
"I'm out, Sil. You knew this. You knew it then and you know it now. You can't keep doing this to me."
"Listen, I wouldn't ask if it wasn't necessary. There wasn't anyone else I could trust to keep her safe."
"Keep her safe from what?"
"I can't say much over the phone, Arch."
"You're going to have to give me something, Silver. I need to know what I'm up against if you're expecting me to agree to this."
I swallow, my throat going dry at listening to these two go back and forth, talking about me like I'm not right here. I hate it, I hate the way it makes my stomach twist and my heart ache. I hate the fact that any of this is happening, that my father couldn't have just died and left me alone instead of haunting me with a man identical to him.
"Joe Vito," Silver says, those two words a complete statement.
Archer doesn't speak for a long moment, and I wonder what he must be thinking. If he's considering whether he should throw me out now, or later. But he surprises me when he chuckles, the sound so unfamiliar and strange. "Okay."
"You're good?" Muffled static follows Silver's voice.
"Yeah."
"I owe you one, Arch."
"Yeah, you do." Archer's gaze trails to mine as he hangs up on Silver and folds his tattooed arms over his chest. He draws in a breath and tenses his jaw. "Do I even want to know why Vito's after you?"
I shrug. "Probably not."
He rubs at his beard, and I wish like hell I could make it all stop. I don't want his pity, I don't want his help, I don't want anything from anyone, other than to be left alone. But isn't that all Archer wanted, too? And now here I am, disrupting just that.
"It won't be for long," I add. "Just until I can get on my feet and find somewhere else to stay."
“He’s untouchable.”
“I know.”
“If he’s after you, this is a problem that will never go away.”
“I just need a little time.”
"He told me to keep you safe."
"All I need is a place to crash until I can find something else. Then I'll be out of your hair."
"How long?"
"I don't know, a month or two." The idea of living with a complete stranger isn't lost on me, but I don't exactly have any other options. I left everything behind when my father died, everything except the clothes I showed up here in and the injuries he left me as a parting gift.
"We'll need some ground rules," Archer says.
"Of course," I comply, because what other choice do I have in the matter?
"Do not touch my computers."
I roll my eyes. "Very protective of your porn stash, got it."
"I'm serious, London. Do not mess with them. Do you hear me?" He stands up straighter, as if he isn't already a foot taller than me, his voice stern with each word.
"I hear you, grumpy. What else?"
"No falling in love."
This time, it's my turn to laugh. But once I come down from the absurd remark, I realize Archer is stone-cold serious. "Oh, you weren't joking."
His intense stare doesn't look away. "I wasn't."
I walk toward him, my head tilting upward when I finally reach him. I pat his chest with my uninjured arm. "Don't worry, big guy. Plus, if anyone's falling in love, it's you." I leave him to return to the kitchen, his gaze hot on my back each step of the way.
Is Archer attractive? Absolutely. But could I see myself falling in love with him? Absolutely not. We're nothing alike. Archer is wound so tightly he's set to explode at any given moment. He's grumpy, way too mysterious for his own good, and clearly a loner. The only thing we have in common is how familiar with the underworld we are. And that is not a good thing to build a relationship on.
"So, then we're in agreement?" Archer joins me at the counter and goes to work clearing off where he was sitting.
"Yeah, Archer, no falling in love." I extend my hand toward him. "And I won't get on your computer."
He finishes rinsing his plate off and puts it in the dishwasher before giving me his full attention. Archer slides his large hand around mine, giving it a firm but gentle shake, like he's afraid I might break in half if he does any harder. "Deal."
I release him after a long moment, ignoring the heat of his skin scorching my hand in its absence, and think about the rules we've set in place. I've come to terms with the no falling in love, that one being the easiest of the two, but I can't quite figure out why he's so damn jumpy about his computers. It's clear he's into some kind of illegal activity, but what could be so bad that he's worried I'd see? Maybe he really does have some weird fetish and is embarrassed by it. I hate how intrigued it makes me, but I have to comply, otherwise I won't have a place to live for the next couple of months. I can't imagine it's going to be difficult to find somewhere else to live, but at least I have some time to figure it out.
First, I need to go shopping and get some clothes and necessities if I'm going to succeed at this whole starting over thing. I can't do it in Archer's sweatpants and t-shirt, no matter how comfortable they might be.
"Are there any shops around here?" I ask him once I've drank the rest of the coffee he made me. "For clothes."
Archer pulls out his phone and clicks a few buttons before setting it down in front of me and zooming in. "See this." He points. "That's where we are." He zooms out. "Right here, there are a few shops, but they're high-end." He moves the map to a few blocks away. "Over here might be better."
I swat his hand out of the way and pick his phone up, exploring the map and what options are available. Without wanting Archer to blow a gasket, I quickly return his phone and offer a soft smile. "Thanks." I hop off the chair and pat the crumbs off my top. "Hey, by the way, where are my clothes?"
"I washed them." He motions toward his bedroom. "They're folded up on the dresser in there."
I narrow my gaze while trying to keep it sort of neutral and figure out his motives. Why would he wash my clothes? Why would he fold them? And why would he put them in his bedroom?
"Why?"
"Would you prefer them to be in a pile on the floor?"
"No, Archer, you know what I mean. Why are they in your bedroom?"
He comes closer, towering over me. "Because if you're going to be staying here, you're going to stay in the bedroom."
I should be intimidated by the way he's looking at me, standing so close I can feel the warmth of his body radiating from him. His tattoo-covered skin and his decadently intense stare should make me question what the hell I'm even doing here, but Archer has no idea where I came from, who raised me, and the depths of hell that man put me through.
My father may have been the first man to hurt me, and because of that, there isn't anything worse anyone else could do to me.