14. Archer
Chapter 14
Archer
" A re you sure you're okay?" Ivy asks me, her face scrunching up as she examines mine.
"Yeah. I'm sure." Nothing a cold shower and a few days of licking my wounds won't fix. I've been worse off and recovered, we both know that.
She seems to buy my answer, not pressing on my injuries or what just happened any more."What's the deal with you two?" Ivy says to me from the entrance of my apartment building.
"Nothing." I cross my arms and do everything I can not to go back down to their car and stab my brother for being a dick to London and her friend. Why London decided to test him, I'll never know.
"You're lying."
"I am not."
"Why is she staying in your apartment, Archer?"
I take a breath in. How much should I tell her? What information does she need to know? If I give her something, maybe it will shut her up and get her to let it go.
"What's his deal lately, anyway?" I try to divert things back to Seven because then maybe she'll forget her train of thought.
"He seriously needs to get it together," Ivy tells me. "It's embarrassing." She barely pauses before ripping right back into me. "But don't try to change the subject. I need to know what's going on, right now."
"Keep it down." I step toward her. "Nothing is going on. A friend asked me to keep an eye on her and keep her safe for a little while. It's temporary, Ivy, nothing to worry about."
"I'm not worried, I'm just confused. You hate people. You barely speak to us. It's insulting you're letting some stranger crash when you can't even show up to family dinner."
"I know, I'm sorry."
"I'm so fucking sick of hearing you say sorry. I need actions, not some weak-ass apologies." Ivy's face softens. "I get it, Arch, you've been through a lot. But we all have. We've all lost someone close to us. We can't lose you, too."
"You're not going to lose me."
She tilts her head. "Then why does it feel like I already have?"
"She means nothing to me, Ivy. This is all a means to an end. I'm doing Silver a favor, okay? I'm simply paying a debt." I don't add that the last part is a lie. I fulfilled my debt to Silver when I hacked into the Manor's impenetrable security. My hands were clean of him and honestly, he's lucky I even allowed him to ask me something so fucking foolish. But a debt is a debt, and I owed him a favor. Now, he owes me one, one that I never asked for, one that has done nothing but wreak havoc on my life the second she stepped foot on my doorstep. "Soon enough I'll get rid of her, and we'll put this all behind us. But until then, she's going to be here, okay?"
"You promise?" Ivy looks up at me, her saddened eyes tearing at my heart. She's desperate to fix the cracks in our broken family but I don't know how much more we can take before things fall completely apart.
"And wait, Silver? Seriously? I thought you were done, Arch?"
"I'm trying to be. It's not my fault no one will respect my wishes."
"I know it's hard with how things are. We're trying to legitimize all of August's affairs…but it's hard. There are too many threads tying everything together. The entire empire was founded with…" She trails off, not finishing her sentence, but both of us know what she's referring to.
August saved us, but in order to do so, he had to hustle in any way he could, doing the unspeakable to gain enough to get us out.
"It's especially hard when Seven is the way he is," she continues. "God, it's like every time I put out one fire, he's set a dozen more things ablaze." She shakes her head. "I love him, but I hate him so much."
"Don't worry about the August stuff for me." I put my hand on her shoulder, realizing how bloody it is. "I don't mind managing the finances. I get it. That shit doesn't bother me. It's having to deal with the face-to-face, talking to people, being reminded of…"
"I know," Ivy says. "I wish I could make that happen. I'm trying."
"I should get up there before the blood sets into the rug." And before London decides to get on my computer and poke around it with Grace. I've never left her alone in there for this long, at least not while she was awake. Usually, I slip out when she's sleeping and has no idea I'm not there.
"Sorry about your apartment. I wouldn't have brought him here if I knew he'd act like that."
"It's Seven. We should always expect the unexpected with him."
"Are you ever going to forgive him?"
"Do you think I should?" I ask her, an honest question.
"Probably not." Ivy leans in for a hug. "That girl has a crush on you."
"No, she doesn't, you're just being an overprotective sister."
Ivy releases me but keeps her hands on my shoulders. "Archer. You are a dumb boy. I'm telling you, she has a crush on you. I know these things. And you must have one back because you just beat the shit out of your brother for her."
"I would have beat the shit out of Seven for anyone."
"Touché."
"I don't have a crush on her," I confirm. "I can't stand London. And I can't wait until she moves out. She's a disaster. She never stops yapping and she can't even pick up after herself. I know toddlers with better habits than her. She's a spoiled brat."
"Okay, okay." Ivy throws her arms up. "Whatever you say."
"She's like a tornado," I mutter so quietly I'm not sure Ivy can make it out. "Anyway. Be safe. You sure you don't want me to call a driver?"
Ivy dangles the keys to Seven's Rolls-Royce between us, a smirk on her face. "And miss the chance to drive his baby."
"He's going to kill you."
"Nah…I'm the only person Seven would never hurt." Ivy jogs down the stairs and disappears from sight as I punch the access code into my building and dart inside, the ache in my face settling in now that the adrenaline of the situation has started to wear off.
I make my way through the front door, stopping in my tracks when I find most of the mess that Seven and I caused missing. Grace and London kneel at the rug, scrubbing at it furiously. I chew at the inside of my lip, knowing damn well they're probably ensuring the stain is setting in.
But when I approach, I'm even more surprised by most of it being gone.
Grace meets my gaze. "Vinegar and water. Always works like a charm."
"Where'd you learn that trick?" I ask her.
"I'm a woman, we're accustomed to blood getting on things."But there's something concealed in her reasoning that feels like it isn't the whole truth. "Whoa. Check out your face."
London glances over at me, her expression unreadable, unfazed, as if she's bored by my face. She averts her attention to the stain, scrubbing it with a dash more elbow grease. She doesn't say anything and despite only knowing her a week, it seems very uncharacteristic of her.
"That bad?" I say, raising my fingers to graze over the sensitive flesh. "It probably looks worse than it is." I point to the mess they've managed well, something I didn't think London was capable of doing. "Thanks for that, by the way."
"No problem."Grace finishes her spot and stands, too. "I totally broke your chair, though, my apologies."
I rub my neck and let out a nervous laugh. "I should probably be thanking you. Seven may have made true to his promise if you hadn't."
London huffs, shoves off the ground to stand, and marches off, tossing the rag she was holding onto the kitchen counter on her way out of the room. She goes into the bedroom and slams the door.
"That ought to be fun dealing with." I cross my arms, catching sight of the blood all over me. "Listen, I should get a shower."
"Oh, yeah, for sure." Grace awkwardly gives me the rag she was cleaning with. "Here's this. Sorry again, about the chair."
I walk her to the door. "I'm sorry for my brother, he's kind of an asshole."
Grace chuckles. "Think so?"
"I think you're the first woman to not immediately fall for his charms."
"You call what he did charming?"
"You'd be surprised what kind of shit Seven can get away with and still get the girl."
"Well, don't worry, I'm immune to Seven's charms ."
"Never say never," I tell her, but secretly hope that she's right. Seven could use someone like Grace to balance him out, but he'd corrupt her before she even got a chance, and she seems like a pretty nice woman who deserves better than him.
"Thanks for the Chinese, though." Grace gives me a sweet smile and slips out the door.
I lean against the door, my back to it, my head resting on it. "What a shit show." I scan the room, searching for anything out of place that needs to be put back. The food remains on the table, a breeding ground for bacteria at this point. I'll need to go over the rug again to make sure the girls did a good job removing the blood, and go over the floor, too, both with stain remover and disinfectants.
My cheek throbs, the entirety of my face no doubt swelling up with each passing second. I should ice it to control the swell and minimize any long-term damage, along with popping a few anti-inflammatories just in case.
When did I get that table? Will I be able to order another chair? Or will I have to live with an uneven number? I guess I could throw the whole thing out and order a brand-new set. The idea of Seven's blood somehow getting overlooked and existing on something I eat grosses me out more than I care to admit.
I should tidy up and then shower, that way I can properly clean any of his remains off me prior to tending to my own wounds.
And then there's the matter of whatever the fuck London is upset about. Maybe she gets uneasy around violence, especially considering what happened to her recently. I must remind myself that not everyone grew up the way we did, so a fight like that isn't normal and is cause for alarm.
Do I comfort her? Do I leave her alone?
"One thing at a time, Archer," I whisper to myself and get to work.
It doesn't take me long to go over the mess we made, considering Grace and London made a lot of progress while I was tossing Seven's body into the back seat of his Rolls-Royce. He can worry about the stains in his seats himself, that isn't my problem.
I toss all the food in the trash, take the bag out, and throw it into the garbage chute. I go over the table three times—once to do a general sweep, another to clean it, and one to disinfect it.
My shower water is murky as the remnants of my fight with Seven get washed down the drain. I scrub at my hand, massaging the soreness of my knuckles, and recall the blows against his head. I was so fucking angry. I still am. Seven had no right acting like that. He's an arrogant asshole who has no limits. I'm his family, and somehow that doesn't matter. Although I wasn't exactly holding back either.
Taking a look in the mirror at my battered face, I tuck the towel around my waist. I scan my features, not alarmed by the swelling, having seen my face like this a million times before.
It's then that I realize I didn't bring any clothes with me, and London has shut herself in the bedroom. I guess I can't put off confronting her forever.
With a sigh, I exit the bathroom and make my way over, knocking lightly on the door.
"Go away," London calls out.
"I need some clothes," I tell her, the truth.
She grunts and a long second later, opens the door, stepping back to let me in.
I go over to my dresser and pull out a pair of boxers. "I'm going to put these on now," I warn her and drop my towel.
"Fuck, Archer." She shields her eyes and turns her back.
"Do you want to talk about what happened?" I ask her and look for a pair of gray sweatpants.
"Not really. Do you?"
"Not really," I confess. My brother and I got into a fight, it's not a big deal, but that doesn't mean it isn't to her. "I'm sorry you had to see that," I add.
London drops her hands and glares at me. "That's what you think I'm mad about? The fight? I don't give a shit about you and your brother arguing. I mean, he almost killed you, and that was pretty fucked up, but I'm not mad about that."
I stop what I'm doing and face her. "Wait, this is you mad ? I don't understand."
"Of course you don't, you're a dumb boy."
I stare at her, trying to understand what the fuck she's getting at.
"You're such an asshole, you know that?"
I run my sore hand through my hair. "I'm confused. How am I an asshole? I got into a fight with my brother because of you."
London crosses her arms over her chest. "I'm sure you would have fought him for anyone, seemed like you were just looking for a reason."
"What the fuck are you talking about? Did you not provoke him? Or am I totally losing it?"
"Your brother is an asshole, too."
"I mean, there's no denying that."
"You really don't get it, do you?" she asks me, her tone serious.
"I don't. Can you spell it out for me?"
"I don't know, Archer. Can I? Or am I dumber than a toddler, too?"
I blink at her a few times, piecing together what it is that she is and isn't saying.
"Or maybe I'm just a means to an end, a favor you never wanted, a disaster even? Or better yet…" London takes a step forward, the space between us shrinking and expanding all at the same time, the tension growing thicker by the second. "Maybe I'm just aspoiled brat."
Everything clicks into place—London isn't mad about the fight, she somehow overheard the conversation I had with Ivy out on the front steps.
"You eavesdropped? How?" I ask her, not sure why my brain is choosing to focus on that tiny detail.
"That's the angle you're going with, big boy? You're mad that I heard you say some shit you wouldn't say to my face? Just admit it, Archer, you can't wait until I move out. Say it to my face." She inches toward me, her face tightened with anger.
I move closer to her. "You are a spoiled brat! Is that what you want to hear? It's not a lie, London."
"You are such an asshole!" London pokes her tiny finger into my chest. "I can't stand you."
"Great," I tell her. "I can't stand you either."
But in the time we've been bickering, we've somehow come closer and closer, until our bodies are almost touching, a hairsbreadth between us.
She tilts her head up at me, anger lining every word she speaks. "I hate you so much, you know that?"
"Good, I hate you, too."
"Good," she snaps back at me. "Then we agree."
"Finally, we agree on something."
I tower over her, our bodies swaying like magnets avoiding each other, the push and pull threatening to tear us apart. But instead, without even fucking thinking it through, my hand cups the small of her neck, my thumb next to her ear, my mouth pressed onto hers.
London doesn't hesitate, she kisses me back, her lips frantic and eager. Our tongues meet, dancing together like they're the only thing keeping each other alive. Her hands wrap around my bare torso, her skin fire against mine.
My cock throbs, my heart sputters, and I want nothing more than to throw her onto the bed and rip her clothes off, savoring every inch of her and making her climax so hard she regrets ever talking back to me.
She presses against me, and I drag my fingers along the base of her head, grabbing a fistful of her hair and tugging firmly. London moans into my mouth and I nearly come undone. But the second my arm grazes against the cast on hers, I come to my senses, releasing her immediately.
London stands there, panting, her arms outreached, still lingering on my body. "Fuck," she whispers.
"That…" I swallow harshly, the burning remains of her mouth on mine replaying over and over in my head. "That was a mistake. I shouldn't have…"
London drops her arms, recoiling into herself as she takes a step back. "Yeah, you're right." She pats down her hair and wipes at her lips. "That was stupid." Her gaze trails my body, no doubt noticing the bulge in my boxers. "That can never happen again."
"Never," I repeat, my head knowing damn well that she's right, my cock not so much in agreement.
London and I would never work. We're like fire and air, the two of us resulting in nothing but an explosion that would ruin us both. Not to mention it would make our living arrangement hell. Everything she does drives me insane, and I'm certain she feels the same way.
"Your boner is telling me otherwise," London says, that familiar sarcastic tone of hers returning.
I adjust my dick and turn my back, going to my dresser and locating the sweatpants I was searching for to begin with. "I just kissed a hot girl, what do you expect?"
"You think I'm hot?"
"Don't get any ideas," I tell her and slide into the sweatpants, adjusting the waistband. "This would never work."
"Because of your face." London leans against the wall, her gaze glued to me.
"What's wrong with my face?"
"Have you looked in a mirror? You look like shit."
"You looked like shit a week ago." I eye the entrance of my bedroom and wish I could slip through it to be alone with my thoughts.
"Wow, rude much?" She pauses then adds, "I'm still mad at you, by the way."
"What's new?" I hold my breath and walk by her, not releasing it until I'm on the other side.
I wasn't lying when I said kissing her was a mistake and that it can never happen again, but it's going to take a minute for the rest of me to catch up to that unfortunate reality.