9. London
Chapter 9
London
I wake up in Archer's bed, a bit confused but feeling better. My stomach growls as I catch the scent of something coming from what I can only assume is the kitchen.
Slowly, I uncover myself and slide out of his bed, careful not to get dizzy by getting up too quickly. My recollection is hazy, the argument Archer and I had by the door coming back to me as I make my way out of the room. My cheeks redden when I see him, the memory of asking him to stay returning to me, too.
Ignoring the thought, I lick my lips and continue toward him. "What are you doing?" I ask upon my approach.
"Just in time." Archer pulls a skillet off the stovetop and dumps some of the contents onto two plates near him. "You must be hungry."
I shrug. "I could eat." I step closer, trying to look over his shoulder at what he made. "What is it?"
"Go sit down, I'll bring it to you."
"That didn't answer my question."
Archer glares at me. "Do you want to eat or not?"
I throw my hands up in defeat. "Fine." And go to where we had breakfast this morning. It suddenly dawns on me that I have no idea what time it is, and because Archer has closed every single window blind, I can't tell if it's still daylight.
He slides a plate in front of me, and another in the spot a couple of seats down. "You okay with water?"
"Yeah, that's fine."
"Ice or no ice."
"Ice."
I poke at the food while he gets our drinks. "Are you going to tell me what I'm about to eat or is this some weird game to add to your mysteriousness?"
Archer sets my water in front of me. "It's teriyaki tofu, brown rice, and sautéedBroccolini."
"You can cook?"
"It's as simple as following instructions. Anyone can cook."Archersits on his stool, grabs his fork, andpauses. "Do you have a problem with what I made?"
My brows rise and I shake my head. "No. Not at all. I'm just surprised, is all." I stab a piece of the tofu and pop it into my mouth, almost moaning at the taste. "This is good." I eat another bite. "Really good."
Archer and I eat in silence for the remainder of the meal, not that I care much, considering how hungry I was. He finishes before me, helping himself to another plate of food and topping off our waters.
I rub my stomach once I'm done and wipe my mouth on a napkin. "Thanks for dinner."
"You're welcome," Archer says, almost like it was painful for him to get out. He takes both plates without giving me a chance to help, rinsing them in the sink and putting them in the dishwasher.
It's then that I notice other than the skillet, the rest of the dishes are already done from his preparation of dinner. He makes quick work of scrubbing, rinsing, drying it off, and putting it away.
He places his hands on the counter and stares directly at me. "Can I ask you a question, without you biting my head off?"
"I wouldn't bite your head off," I scoff.
Archer tilts his head as if to question me silently.
"Fine. What's your question?"
"How did you pay for the things you bought earlier?"
I blink at him, unsure of what exactly he's asking me. "What?"
"You came back with bags. Clearly, you purchased the items, right? How did you pay for them? Cash or card?"
"Oh. Cash. Why?"
"How much was it?"
"I don't know," I lie.
"You know damn well how much it was, London."
I scoot myself off the chair. "Don't patronize me, Archer ." I leave him behind and head toward his bedroom, desperate to get away from him. I thought maybe we might finally start getting along, but here he is, asking questions he shouldn't be and putting his nose where it doesn't belong.
"I'm not patronizing you." Archer takes off after me, following me into his room.
"Sure sounds like it, big boy."
Archer reaches for me, stopping me in place and turning me toward him. "Stop calling me that."
I look up at him. "If it looks like a duck, and quacks like a duck…"
"You are so childish." He releases me but remains firmly in place. "And stupid."
My mouth drops open. "How dare you call me stupid!"
Archer rushes over to where the bags sit in the corner of his bedroom. "I know this stuff wasn't cheap, London. You can't carry about that much cash with you. It's dangerous. You have this false sense of safety and it's going to get you—" He stops abruptly and lowers his voice as his gaze floats across my body. "Hurt."
"Wait." I place my hand in the air between us. "You're mad because I used cash? Not because of how much I spent?"
"What would you do if someone saw you carrying that much cash and decided they were going to take it from you? You can't trust so easily, London. This isn't a safe neighborhood. If you insist on using wads of cash to pay for things, all I ask is that you let me come with you."
"I don't need a bodyguard."
"I didn't say you did, but for fuck’s sake, have a little common sense." Archer runs his hand through his hair, messing it up. "I don't know your past, and I don't want to know, okay? But the way you lived your life before has to stop. You're living in my apartment and Silver asked me to keep you safe. I can't do that when you bolt out of here, looking like that and carrying that much cash on you."
"What's wrong with how I look?"
Archer pinches his eyes shut and rubs his temple. "Woman, do you fail to recognize the cast on both your arm and leg, how frail you are, how you can barely walk three feet without struggling? I'm pretty sure a second grader could overpower you."
"I refuse to be confined to this apartment and you."
"Well, I'm sorry, but you're going to have to get used to it. I won't let you leave if you can't follow a few, very simple, rules."
"I don't like rules."
"Do you like staying alive?" Archer's brown eyes stare at me so intensely it sends a chill down my spine.
"I only have cash," I tell him because it's the truth. I couldn't use a credit card if I wanted to. I left all of them behind, and the package from Silver only had five thousand dollars in it because he was under the impression I was bringing my own stash, only that plan was foiled when my house was set on fire, everything I owned going up in smoke. It was a small price to pay for my freedom, even though my new circumstances feel nothing of the sort.
Archer leaves the room without a word, disappearing into the openness of the rest of his apartment. "Here," he says on his way back in, something in his hand that's outstretched to me.
"What is it?"I settle my sights on his offering, that familiar black card I knew and loved all too well. "I can't take that."
Archer grabs my hand and shoves it into my grasp. "Don't use that cash anymore. Use this. I'll get you a purse to put it in. Something with a crossbody strap to make it harder for someone to take from you."
"What? No. I can't take this, Archer. Are you out of your mind?"
He meets my gaze again, and this time, something unfamiliar settles between us. "Probably."