8. Archer
Chapter 8
Archer
I can't stop staring at London's tiny hand on my stomach, her fingers twitching as sleep finally drags her under.
Christ, she's infuriating for such a small human being, but when I look at her like this, I can't help but admire her beauty in a way I'm sure parents do when their screaming baby falls asleep.
And I know once London opens her eyes, she'll return to her normal self, poking and prodding at me until it drives me fully insane.
This was all such a stupid idea. Why I agreed to it, I'll never know. Part of me wishes I could turn back the clock and change the outcome of the situation, but I've lived too much of my life trying to alter the past and have had to come to terms with the fact that it's impossible.
Once we make our choices, and the consequences fall into place, there's no going back.
I know I've tried, and no matter what I did, I can't fix what had been done, what had been taken from me. My heart aches at the countless things I tried but it all resulted in the same outcome.
Flashbacks of blood staining her clothes, a lifeless body in my grasp, hushed pleas to save her.
It was all for nothing and I refuse to allow my actions to result in another casualty.
Carefully, I pick London's hand off my chest and lay it on the bed, and with even more caution, slip out of the room, leaving her behind to rest.
I slide my phone out of my pocket on the way out, taking a last glance at her to make sure I didn't disturb her. Silver's number is quickly located, and I press it a second later, hoping like hell the asshole answers.
"Yeah?" he says through the receiver.
"I can't do this," I tell him, making my way farther into my apartment so I don't wake London.
"Sure you can, Arch. I wouldn't have asked if I didn't think you could."
"You didn't ask, remember? You just dropped her on my doorstep." I shake my head. "I can't be responsible for her. This isn't going to end well."
"You're overthinking this, Arch. It's going to be fine. All you have to do is keep her safe for a little while."
"A little while? It's Joe Vito. This problem isn't going to go away on its own."
"Trust me, she's not exactly on his priority list right now. Don't worry, this thing is going to blow over soon enough." Silver's voice becomes muffled as he tells someone else something and returns to me. "Arch, I've got to jet. I'll be out of town for a while. Promise me you'll figure this out. My girl will kill me if you let something happen to London."
"You're doing this because of some girl?"
"Hey," Silver snaps at me. "She's not just some girl , she's my girl."
"Same thing."
"Can you handle this or not? I need to know I can count on you."
"Yeah, you can count on me." I hang up a second later, not caring to hear any more excuses or guilt trips from Silver. What's done is done and I can't change that, the only thing I can do is figure out how to handle the cards that I've been dealt and navigate this London situation as best as possible.
Even if it drives me insane.
I slide into my computer chair, stealing a peek at my bedroom to ensure London is still in there. My fingers dare me to dig up every piece of information I have on her, but I refrain, not wanting to involve myself any more than I already am. The curiosity is overwhelming, yet I know if I succumb to it, I'll never be able to truly escape this situation.
My phone screen lights up with Ivy's name across it.
"Shit," I mutter and swipe the call to accept. "Hey, what's up?"
"What's up?" she quips back. "What's up is I've been waiting at the restaurant for twenty minutes for you. Did you die? Are you being held captive somewhere?"
"I…I'm sorry, Ivy. I got held up with something. I can't really talk about it."
"Can't talk about it? Are you serious? Hold on." Muffled sounds fill the end of the line. "I'll take another pinot. Yeah. Thanks." She returns to me a second later. "Arch, listen, I love you, but you know you have to leave that apartment sooner or later, right? It's been three years. It's time you moved on. I'm sorry, really, you know I've always been there for you, and I always will be, but I'm going to have to put my foot down. You have to leave. I'm going to stage an intervention. Yeah, that's what I'm going to do."
"Ivy," I say to get a word in. "I'm sorry, seriously. I had every intention of meeting you but…" My gaze lingers to my bedroom. "Something came up. I promise I'll explain, I just can't right now."
Ivy laughs dryly. "I don't buy it, Archer, and quite frankly, I'm insulted you think I'm going to fall for this yet again. We can't keep doing this. You can't keep doing this. Do you enjoy staying cooped up in your apartment all the time? You're getting pale, too pale. You're probably deficient in vitamin D. I'm concerned about your health, Arch, really. This isn't good for you."
"My health is fine," I reassure her. "I take a handful of supplements daily, Ivy. I even started eating fruit."
"Huh. Really? Or is this another lie?"
I walk to my kitchen, snap a quick picture of the cut-up strawberries, and send it to her. "There, check your messages."
"Why do you have a package of tofu?"
"I, uh, I was at the market and the lady told me it was a good source of protein." I hate myself for just not telling her the truth, but I don't have a grip on the situation enough to involve her yet.
"I mean, she's not wrong, it's just weird." Ivy smacks her lips. "This pinot is not pinot-ing." She raises her voice. "Excuse me, waiter. Is this pinot or gamay?"
A brief exchange follows, and I wait patiently for it to end.
"I knew it," she tells me. "They tried to pass a gamay for a pinot. Anyway, yeah, what were we talking about? You standing me up, that was it."
"I'm sorry, Ivy. How many times do you want me to say it?"
"I'm starting to think you don't love me, Arch. It hurts."
I roll my eyes at her dramatics. How could I not love her? There isn't much I wouldn't do for Ivy. I would die for her; I would kill for her. But I guess I draw the line at being able to show up on time or leave my apartment when she demands that I do.
"You know I do. I promise I'll make it up to you. Give me some time," I tell her.
"Fine. But you better be glad I love the bread here, because the carbs are making up for my missing date."
"I'll send you an edible arrangement of bread, how's that?"
"Don't make promises you can't keep, Arch." Ivy clears her throat. "I'll see you on Sunday," and then hangs up.
I exhale, the guilt adding to the festering feelings nagging at me from every direction. I did have every intention of meeting her today, I just lost track of time when London came fumbling into my life.
Returning to my computer, I type away until I find what I'm looking for, ordering Ivy the biggest breadbasket I can find to be delivered to her office. I add an "I'm sorry" note and punch in my credit card information. It's just bread, but I refuse to not follow through with another promise and disappoint her any more than I already have.
I run my hand through my hair and lean back in my chair, remembering the last words that Ivy just spoke to me. I'll see you on Sunday.
Here's to hoping I don't disappoint her again.