13. London
Chapter 13
London
M y entire body relaxes at hearing the words out of Ivy's mouth, and a second later, I'm realizing how fucking foolish I must look, hanging on Archer in some sad attempt to mark my territory for no real reason.
He's a grown-ass man. Even if Ivy wasn't his sister, what on earth gives me the right to act the way I am? I've known this man for a week, and we've both made it clear we aren't interested in each other like that. Perhaps it was the two mimosas I had at the coffee shop going to my head. That must explain it.
Or maybe it was the possibility that a girlfriend would be a reason for me to lose my safe haven and have nowhere else to go.
The shampoo and conditioner, it wasn't a girlfriend’s, it was his sister’s, which also justifies the feminine products in his bathroom, too.
"I have a brother," Grace adds out of nowhere, probably in an attempt to diffuse the weirdness of the situation. "He's older by a few years. What about you guys? What's the age difference?"
Ivy turns her focus to Grace like she's grateful for a question she can answer without giving too much away. "Seven and I are twenty-six."
"Oh nice, me too. When's your birthday?" Grace says.
"June ninth." Seven approaches from the living room. "Will you be my birthday present?" He tucks a strand of bright blonde hair behind Grace's ear, and she doesn't even flinch.
"In your dreams, lover boy." She takes one solid step away from him and looks at Ivy. "You were saying."
Seven hisses like he touched a hot stove and drinks down more of his tequila.
"Dude, really?" Archer goes for the bottle, but Seven’s reflexes are catlike, moving it and himself from Archer’s reach.
"We're twins, Seven and I," Ivy continues. "The youngest of us all. And then there's Archer, thirty. Leo's, um, Leo's thirty-two, and August is thirty-six. London, how old are you?"
"Aren't you not supposed to ask a woman her age?" Archer says.
"That usually only applies to men asking." I smile politely. "I'm twenty-three."
Ivy licks her lips and I know without a doubt that she's about to stir the pot even more. "Are you two hooking up?"
"Oh, yeah, good question, baby sis. I want to know if they're fucking, too." Seven leans against the wall, the bottle of tequila held firmly in his tattooed hands.
"No," I say before Archer can. "We aren't fucking. We're just…friends."
"Are we?" He raises a brow at me.
"Yes, Archer, we are friends. Is that okay with you?"
As if wheels are turning in his head, Archer struggles to find an answer. Sure, we've only known each other a week, but we're friend adjacent at this point, right?
Leo clears his throat by the front door. "This has been fun. I'm leaving now. Bye." He waves and slips out the front door, leaving the rest of us behind.
"Oh, I'm starving, is that lo mein?" Grace points to the table where a bunch of Chinese takeout containers are.
"Yeah, help yourself," Ivy tells her. "August and Leo are gone so those chairs are open. "Oh but—" She rushes over to another seat. "Don't touch these ones."
"What's wrong with those?" Grace asks her.
"They're Seven's and, well…he's kind of gross."
"Am not," Seven protests, stalking over and returning to his seat. "I washed my hands." He tips back the tequila and drinks some of it, my mouth watering at the idea of more booze flowing through my system.
"Can I have a drink of that?" I surprise myself by asking him.
Seven hesitates before grinning, exposing his canine teeth which appear to be filed down into a dramatic point. "Be my guest."
"London…" Archer warns but I ignore him, putting my mouth on the opening of the bottle and drinking some down.
It's hot, warms my throat and stomach, and sends a tingling sensation throughout my body. "That's good," I tell Seven and return the bottle to him.
He's strange—outwardly attractive with that tall, muscular, tattooed thing going on, but there's something about the look in his eye that tells me he's more trouble than he's worth.
And I don't exactly enjoy the way he looks at Grace like she's a piece of meat he's ready to tear into.
I settle into the seat next to Archer, Grace taking the one next to Ivy, as far as she can get away from Seven. It doesn't stop him from gawking at her the entire time.
"Are you single?" Seven asks her with no regard for the rest of us.
"Are you?"
Seven props his tattooed elbows onto the table and rests his head on the bottle. "I can be anything you want me to be, baby girl."
"One, don't call me baby girl. Two, what makes you think I want anything to do with you?" Grace takes the box of lo mein that Ivy slides to her. "Oh, thanks." She digs right in and I almost laugh at how she shuts Seven down.
I don't know much about Archer but it's clear he's involved in some shady shit. And considering my background, I wouldn't put it past this bunch to be a family of criminals in one way or another. Grace is nothing of the sort. She comes from money, and I haven't fully uncovered her backstory, but I think it has something to do with politics. She is the exact opposite of us, and here she is, not intimidated in the slightest. Maybe if she knew the truth she'd act differently.
Who am I kidding—I'm well aware of part of the truth and I still act like I'm not afraid of them.
They can't hurt me any more than my father already has.
"You're feisty," Seven says. "I like that."
"No," Archer speaks up, finally. "You like that she's not interested in you, you sick fuck. Leave her alone."
My cheek turns up into a grin, but I don't let it fully come to the surface. Instead, I eye the selection of food and wonder if there's anything that doesn't have meat in it that isn't already spoken for.
Archer shoves a sack toward me. "These are vegetable egg rolls."
"Oh." I hesitate. "Are you sure?"
"Yep."
I take one, carefully biting off the end and confirming that he's telling me the truth. The buzz of alcohol flows through me, settling my nerves.
"Are you vegetarian?" Ivy asks me from across the table.
"I am."
"I almost went vegetarian once, but it's hard…I like burgers too much."
"When you witness your dad gut a…pig…right in front of you, it kind of makes you change your mind." Only, I edit part of the story to include the truth I'm willing to tell. My father didn't gut a pig, he gutted a man, and then dismembered him and fed him to pigs. Who knew watching that at seven years old would make you turn vegetarian? I don't tell them any of this, though.
"Damn, that's brutal." Ivy shuffles her lo mein back and forth. "I don't think this has meat in it, does it?"
She turns to Grace, who shakes her head. "It can, but these don't, no."
"Hm, maybe I'll reconsider…"
"There's tofu in the fridge," Seven says out of nowhere.
Archer blinks at him. "And?"
Seven shrugs and shovels a forkful of food into his mouth.
He reminds me of one big intrusive thought, never holding back and just saying the first thing that pops into his head. Maybe he doesn't have a filter and that's why he's so…out there.
"So, how long will you be staying here with Arch?" Ivy puts her arm over the back of her chair and folds one leg over the other, getting comfortable and no doubt arming her arsenal of questions she's preparing to grill me with.
"A few weeks, until I find another place. I already have a lead if Archer will put in a good word for me."
Archer clears his throat. "Camille says hi, by the way."
"Is she moving? I love Camille, she's great. Tell her hello for me." Ivy runs her tongue across her teeth, probably in search of any food she may have missed. "Her place is great. Same size as Archer's, except it's a two-bedroom since she didn't randomly demolish a wall and decide to renovate."
"I'm sorry, what?" I say.
Ivy motions plainly around the area. "Arch took a sledgehammer to the place. Tore down the wall between the rooms and made it one big room and an even bigger bathroom. I think the kitchen is different, too, isn't it, Arch?"
"The kitchen is the same, V. It was one, tiny wall. It's not a big deal."
"I'm telling you, I think there was another wall…"
"Okay, fine, there was one other wall, that's it." Archer acts like he's a child being scolded by a parent and I find it so strange to watch him interact with someone else, especially this way.
"Wait, you took a sledgehammer to the wall? Why?" I ask him and take another bite of the egg roll.
"Because I can," he says dryly.
"He was having sort of a…psychotic break," Ivy adds.
Seven leans forward, closer in the direction of Grace. "Do you wanna hook up in the bathroom?"
Grace tugs her bottom lip into her mouth like she's considering it. "You know what. Head on in there, I'll meet you in a minute."
Seven's eyes go wide, showing off their different colors. I hadn't noticed that until now. "Wh-what? Really?"
Grace shrugs. "Sure, why not? You seem persistent enough not to let this go."
Seven hops up, taking his tequila bottle with him, and rips his shirt off, throwing it onto the floor on his way to the bathroom.
My gaze meets Grace's, who remains firmly rooted in her seat. "You're not going, are you?"
She bunches her brows and shakes her head. "Are you kidding me? No way."
Archer chuckles. "He's going to be pissed."
"What's new?" Ivy says. "He's always mad about something."
"Ivy. What do you do for work?" I fidget with the wrapper of the egg rolls and try to guess what bullshit answer she's going to give me. Will it be as generic as Archer saying he's in tech?
"I'm in PR," she tells me.
"Oh, nice," Grace speaks up. "Who do you work with?"
"I have a few clients, some more labor-intensive than others. Right now, my focus is on August and his companies."
"What does August do?" I pry.
"A plethora of things, really. Essentially, he's a venture capitalist, but it is a bit too broad to narrow down to one specific thing. What about you? What do you do?"
It's not hard to notice Ivy is quickly deflecting the topic of conversation, something her work in public relations has primed her well for.
"Nothing, at the moment since I just relocated." I hate not having some fantastic job to brag about, but it's not a lie that things are a bit up in the air for me right now, so I do the same thing as her and turn the focus on someone else. "What about you, Grace? We talked briefly about work but nothing too in-depth."
"I'm in event planning for the city, mostly charity events."
"What the fuck?" Seven calls out from the bathroom entrance. He snatches his shirt off the ground, throwing it over his shoulder. "Come on, Ivy, let's fucking go."
Ivy rolls her eyes. "Very well, brother." She looks to Archer. "Walk me to the door?"
"Yeah," he says without hesitation. "Of course." Archer hops up and follows her over while Seven approaches the table.
Archer pauses, watching Seven intensely.
"Give me your number," Seven says to Grace. "We can go out sometime."
Slowly, she turns toward him, tilting her head up at his exposed chest. If it weren't for his personality, Seven would be attractive. He has everything working in his favor. The tattoos, the height, those weirdly mismatched eyes, and the dark hair. Even his filed-down teeth add a strange sort of sex appeal. But the second he opens his mouth, every ounce of attraction falls to the wayside.
"I think she said no," I say from my spot still at the table.
"I didn't ask you," he quips back, a bite to his tone.
I stand, ignoring the pain shooting up my cast-covered leg. "I don't care that you didn't ask me. Leave her alone."
Seven looks at me, his stare so penetrating it sends a chill down my spine. "What did you just say to me?"
"You heard me."
Grace immediately stands, putting herself between Seven and me, even though the table is there anyway. "Give me your phone."
Seven's jaw tenses, that little bulge on the side flexing as his nostrils flare slightly. He shifts down, now at Grace’s level, his height drastically different than hers. Is that what Archer and I look like standing next to each other? "Why, so you can give me a fake number?"
Grace pulls her phone out of her back pocket, unlocks the screen, and hands it to him. "There, put your number in."
He hesitates like he's not sure if she's telling the truth, but then decides to take her phone. He pushes a sequence of buttons and a second later, his phone rings and stops. "There." Seven gives me one last deadening glance before returning her cell. "Don't make me come over there and wipe that look off your pretty face," Seven says through gritted teeth, each word a bit blended into the next.
Out of nowhere, Archer appears, gripping Seven's shoulder and shoving him. "What the fuck is wrong with you? You don't talk to her like?—"
But Seven doesn't let him finish, no, he reels back his arm and slams his fist against Archer's face, blood splattering Archer's rug and dining room floor.
I gasp, my feet moving without my brain even catching up.
Archer, red pooling from his nose, doesn't falter when he punches Seven back, a crack that could only be Seven's nose echoing in the space.
"You fucking bastard," Seven yells. "I'll fucking kill you." He hits Archer again in the face, and harder in the gut.
Archer doesn't let up. He smashes his fist into Seven's jaw like he's been waiting far too long for this to happen, like this isn't just about what happened here today, but something else, something bigger.
"Stop it," Ivy screams into the chaos. "Both of you, fucking stop ."
But neither of them do. They keep hitting each other, over and over, blood staining their faces, fists, and everything in a two-foot radius.
Archer swipes his leg so fast I almost miss it, knocking Seven's legs out from under him, and climbs on top of him, hitting him repeatedly in the face, a sort of anger in him being unleashed that I didn't know he was capable of.
You've only known him a week , I remind myself and realize I'm living with a stranger. You know nothing about him, London, you stupid, stupid girl.
And even though I know I should be more afraid, there's something in me that's ignorant to the fear, having lived with my father all my life. I'm no stranger to violence.
"You." Archer hits him. "Fucking. Bastard." Every word is another blow.
"Cut it out, Archer, you're going to fucking kill him." Ivy reaches for his shoulder, but he shrugs her off, rage blinding him.
"Archer," I say, my voice quiet. I clear my throat. "Archer."
His attention flickers to me, only for the briefest moment, but it's enough for Seven to buck his hips in just the right way to knock Archer off him and pin him under his body. Archer wriggles, but it's no use. Seven seized the moment and is now in control of the situation.
Seven wraps his hands around Archer's throat, squeezing tighter and tighter, my heart constricting with his grip. "I'll fucking kill you."
Archer gasps and pries at Seven's fingers but it's futile.
"Stop," Ivy yells into the chaos again. "Seven, stop!"
"Step back," Grace tells Ivy and me, her hands out to signal to us.
I clutch my chest, unsure of what's going to happen, what she's going to do.
She looks around, latching onto the chair she was once sitting in, and picks it up. For a second, she struggles, but then this strange calm washes over her. Grace draws back, chair in her grip, and drives it sideways and forward, crashing it over Seven's back. Wood splinters, chair legs go flying, and Seven goes still and then falls to the ground as Archer gasps.
I'm on my knees in a flash, my hands finding Archer's cheeks. "Are you okay?"
He blinks up at me and coughs, blood sputtering out. "I'm good," he croaks. Archer lies there for a long moment and looks from Grace, who holds the remains of the chair in her hands, to Seven who's unconscious next to him. "Good job."
Archer takes Ivy's arm and she helps hoist him to his feet. He runs his palm over his face, flinching and flexing his jaw.
"You okay?" she asks him, her face pinched with concern.
"I'm fine." Archer sucks in a breath. "This place, though, is a fucking disaster." He kicks Seven, nudging him onto his back. "Is he dead?"
Grace stoops and studies Seven seriously. "No, he's still breathing."
Archer reaches for Seven's hands, moving them and hooking his arms up under Seven's armpits. "Grab his feet," he tells Ivy. "Help me move him."
Ivy complies without question, taking Seven's ankle into her hands and wiggling forward to get a more solid handle on him. "Why is he so heavy?" she mumbles.
The two of them scoot their way closer to the door but Ivy loses her hold twice.
"Never mind," Archer huffs. "I'll just…" He hoists Seven's large but semi-lifeless body onto his shoulder with a grunt. "Get the door for me."
Ivy rushes over, opens the door, and disappears through it with her two brothers.
"What the fuck," I mutter into the eerily quiet space.
"Where's the dustpan?" Grace says out of nowhere.
"What?"
"We need to clean this up." She points to the mess. "We can't leave it like this." She goes straight into the kitchen, dropping the remains of the chair into the trash, and looks through cabinets until she finds what she's looking for, then goes to work doing exactly what she said.
"Grace," I say. "Are you okay?"
She turns to me."Are you crazy?"
"Are you?" I pause and then add, "Why did you give him your number?"
"You have no idea who they are, do you?"