28. Archer
Chapter 28
Archer
I open my refrigerator and stare at the empty shelves, closing and opening it a second later, like maybe something will appear that wasn't there already. A half-eaten container of cream cheese stares back at me, no doubt mold growing considering it's been in there since London left. I haven't been to the grocery store in weeks, and if I don't go soon, I may have to resort to eating the contents of a ketchup bottle.
Running my hand through my hair, I sigh and slam the door shut. It's only a few blocks away, but the last time I was there, London was with me, and I know if I show up alone, Ruth is going to ask questions that I don't want to answer, not now, not ever.
I could go somewhere else, but that would involve me having to find another store, deal with a different clerk, and potentially be farther away from my apartment than I'd prefer. Ordering delivered groceries is off the table, the people never get my order right to begin with and I don't exactly want expired produce.
I just need a few things to get me by, it shouldn't take too long and I can be back in the confines of my apartment where no one can bother me.
Rummaging through a pile of semi-clean clothes, I throw a t-shirt over my head and sniff a pair of jeans, deciding that they will suffice for the time being. I glance toward my computer and consider stalking London to see what she's up to, to make sure she's okay, to keep tabs on her, but according to her schedule at the bakery, she should be there and if I stop to watch her, there's no telling how long it will take to pry myself away.
My stomach growls and I know that I must seize this opportunity before it's gone.
Slipping out of my apartment, I make sure the door is locked, tugging on it three times. I turn on my heel, starting toward the staircase when I hear voices coming from downstairs. I freeze but remind myself that it's okay, that I can handle strangers. I don't have to look at them or talk to them or do anything other than walk past and complete the task I’ve set out to do.
But when I'm a bit closer, and those voices come into focus, I realize I've made a grave mistake.
"Archer," Camille says once she's at the top. "Hey." She walks straight toward me, the person she’s with stopping dead in their tracks.
My attention flutters to the other person, my heart thudding in my chest. Fuck .
Our eyes meet at the same time and I'm overwhelmed by a million thoughts and feelings at once. My cheeks flush and I wipe at my brow.
"Hey," I reply, my voice catching. I clear my throat. "What's up?" I internally kick myself for not having checked on London, that momentary lapse in judgment costing me this entire awkward exchange.
Camille throws her thumb in the direction of London, who remains firmly in place. "Was just giving London keys to the place, making things official."
I blink once, twice, not fully processing the information she gave me.
London crosses her arms, doing everything she can to put whatever she can between us.
I hate it, every bit of the distance, but I hate that I hate it more, ashamed that even though I said I never wanted to see her again, I haven't been able to keep true to that word. There hasn't been a single day that has passed since I pulled up some kind of feed to check on her. I'm sick in the head and can't stop.
I should hate her, and I do, but that doesn't mean it's the only emotion I feel for her.
"Nice," I say, unable to come up with anything else. Of course, London is moving into Camille's…I paid for a year of her rent, and staying with Grace was probably always meant to be temporary, like her stay with me.
How fucking fortunate that Camille's place is right next to mine. I used to think this was a good thing, but at this rate, I'm never going to get her out of my system if she's living there for the next year. I'm going to have to develop some fucking self-control if I stand a chance.
"Yeah, so anyway. I was going to show her around and give her the keys. Do you want to come in with us?" Camille asks me, clearly having no clue that things are the way they are between me and London.
"No. I'm okay, I was just heading out." I point in the direction London is standing, needing to go past her to get downstairs. Even if I wanted to use the elevator, I'd still have to pass her. "Maybe another time." I start toward her, noting how London doesn't budge.
Camille walks toward her apartment, shoving the key into the lock. "It was good seeing you, Arch."
"You, too, Cami."
She slips into the apartment, leaving London and me there in the small space together.
"So much for never seeing you again," I tell London as I stop in front of her, my tone coming across more aggressive than I intend, although I'm not sure what I expected given my entire statement was rude as fuck to begin with.
"Shouldn't have paid the rent if you didn't want me living next to you," she retorts.
"It was before I found out the truth."
London shrugs. "You should move then."
"Excuse me?" I stare down at her.
"If you don't want to live next to me, if you don't want to see me ever again, you should move."
I don't say anything for a long minute, my brain trying to comprehend her words, her tone, her body language. "Don't flatter yourself," I tell her. "We were never that serious anyway."
"Yeah?" London narrows her gaze and leans in closer. "Then why are you so nervous right now?"
"I'm not nervous," I lie, although I'm not convinced nervous is what I'm experiencing. Utter hell might be more accurate. To be this near her and not be able to figure out whether I want to kiss her or kill her is torture unlike any I've ever gone through. "You're nervous."
"I feel nothing for you, Archer. Not love, not lust, not even anger. Nothing . Living next to you is going to be like living next to a ghost."
"If you feel nothing then why are you talking to me?" I ask her, knowing damn well she's lying as much as I am. I'm not entirely sure what I meant to her, but even if it was a fraction of what I felt for her, it's still more than nothing.
"Because you're in my way."
I step aside and motion for her to continue. "Be my guest. Don't let me stop you."
"You couldn't make me do anything," she mouths off before walking past me and into the apartment she's now calling home. London shuts the door, almost slamming it, but not quite. I'm sure she's being reserved because Camille is around, and she doesn't want to make a bad impression on her first day of having the place.
I take a deep breath in, exhaling it and coming to terms with the fact that I survived my first encounter with her since our big fight. If I'm being honest, I wasn't sure if I'd ever see London again, and despite those being my last words to her, that I never wanted to see her again, that doesn't exactly mean I wanted that to happen.
In that moment, one hundred percent. I was pissed. I had just found out she was lying to me. That she was the daughter of the man who killed Madison. Even if I could look past the fact that she was his daughter, how can I forgive her for knowing this and not telling me the truth? No matter how much I wish things could be different, I'm not stupid enough to think I could look past her deceit, especially after lecturing me that honesty was so important to her. She made me promise that I'd be honest, and how do I get repaid? By her lying to me about something that utterly destroyed me.
Madison's death was the catalyst that made me retreat into myself and realize that everyone I care about is put in danger because of my family's association with the criminal world. It's not enough that every single one of us is a killer, but everything we touch is tainted and compromised.
Loving anyone with the last name Sin is a death sentence where no one makes it out alive.
I rush out of the apartment complex, glad to be breathing air that she isn't once I'm outside. A body slams into mine, or maybe mine into it, and I steady their shoulders. "Shit, I'm sorry," I blurt out.
"Fucking prick," the guy mutters, brushing off his sport coat and side-eyeing me. He adjusts his collar, and I consider snapping his neck just for being an asshole.
My fingers dare me to move them, to snake them around his throat, squeezing until there's no life left in him.
He must realize I'm considering his demise because he does a double take and then darts away as if he could read my mind and see the images I was envisioning of him lying on the cold, hard pavement.
Ignoring every other person around me, I continue to the corner store and hope that Ruth will take it easy on me for not bringing London. There have been a few rare occasions that I've popped down without her, but this time is different, and Ruth will see right through it.
"Archie, honey, how are you?" Ruth tilts her head from the register to look past me. "Where's my girl?"
"She, uh, she had work to do, so she won't be joining me today." Somehow, I feel more guilty lying to her than almost murdering that man on the sidewalk.
"You've been saying the same thing for a month," she tells me and puts her hand on the counter, leaning on it. "What's really going on?"
I grab a basket, holding it in my arms and wondering why I'm folding like a limp dick to this random store clerk. "We had a fight," I confess while moving into an aisle to avoid the glare she's no doubt giving me.
Ruth moves out from behind the counter and follows me. "You can't say that and expect me not to ask questions. Is she okay? Are you okay? What happened? Why haven't you apologized yet?"
I reach for the bagels, my hand stopping in midair. "What makes you so sure I did something wrong?" I throw them in my basket, ignoring the thoughts that bubble up… bagels…London's safe word, and one of her favorite foods .
"Because it's always the guy’s fault. Haven't you learned anything about women?" Ruth stays like a shadow, calling me out without even knowing what happened.
Mindlessly, I continue around the store, tossing things in and trying to get out of there as quickly as possible.
"For someone who doesn't think he did anything wrong, you sure do seem to have a lot of the things she likes in this basket." Ruth pulls each item out and places them into a bag. She doesn't ring them up, because she never does, and regardless of her giving me a total, I pay her in cash anyway, always more than what it would have been.
This started years ago when I moved in, and some guy tried to rob her place. I took care of it and vowed to offer my protection, making sure everyone knew who was claiming this territory, a Sin brother. Since that day, no one has dared step foot into this store to cause trouble, except when I brought London in for the first time—that man sent from the Manor brothers trying to stir up shit. If only I could prove it, then maybe my older brother would take me seriously that they're a bigger threat than they let on. I shouldn't concern myself with such issues, but it's hard when I care about my family more than I care about myself. I don't want them to suffer just because I'm down in the dumps.
"Fine. If you don't want to talk about it, I understand." Ruth sets the bags on the counter, scooting them toward me. "You might not have asked for my advice, but I'm going to give it to you anyway." She stares right at me. "You need to fix this. I don't care what happened. What was between you two is rare. You want to miss out on that because of some fight? Life is too short, Archie. Don't let love pass you by. Don't be that stubborn."
I slide a couple hundred-dollar bills across the counter and take the bags. "Thanks, Ruth." I leave the store without another word, hers ringing in my head and making me wish I had never left my apartment to begin with. I wouldn't have run into London and I wouldn't have gotten lectured by Ruth.
Maybe I needed both of those things to happen. Maybe I need a wake-up call. Or maybe I need to be more like Seven and not give a fuck about anyone other than myself.
A week of living next to London feels more like an eternity in hell. I don't leave. Not once. I don't even poke my head out of my apartment, not to check the mail, not to get groceries, not to get a breath of fresh air. I've kept my blinds drawn and my lights dimmed, and I wouldn't be surprised if I have a vitamin deficiency at this point.
My computer dings, alerting me to a feed I had been trying to hack into, the code finally going through. I scan the screen, watching Joe Vito walk into the massage parlor he's been frequenting lately. His belly is round, and in the past month I've been surveilling him, he's gained even more weight, his complexion uneven and the bags under his eyes darkening. He doesn't appear well, like he has an underlying medical condition or something severely stressing him out. Not that I care either way, although I wouldn't be mad if he dropped dead, making my task of keeping London safe permanently complete, the one person who's after her buried in the ground. I'd do it myself if he weren't such an untouchable man.
I hate that word—untouchable. It implies my inability to kill someone, but it has nothing to do with whether I could pull it off, yet the implications that would follow in his death. If it were natural causes, no one is to blame, and there would be an investigation to make sure that's what happened, but if someone were to kill him, it would mean things worse than death for anyone who associates with the killer. Joe is part of a powerful family. As was Ricardo. Their influence is passed down generation after generation, giving each fresh blood more authority than they deserved, never really earning it themself, unlike my family. We're new to this criminal world, the first in the Sin syndicate, which is what intimidates so many—the fact that it wasn't passed down, that we did, in fact, earn every bit of fear exuded when someone utters our name. It wasn't easy, and I'm not proud of everything we did to get here, but we came from nothing, and I think there's something to be said about someone who can build an empire out of jack shit.
My phone rings, Ivy's face lighting up the screen. I hit ignore, letting it go to voicemail, knowing damn well she's not going to leave one. How many times will she call before she gets the hint that I don't want to talk? I've already told her countless times, but she keeps insisting I'm worth trying to get through to. I understand she wants to help, but the fact that she's the one who brought this to my attention makes me relive the moment of finding out London lied to me over and over.
I silence another call from Ivy, keeping my attention on the screen, begging myself not to get curious and click on another feed I keep nearby, too…the one of London. I thought with her living next door, I'd be able to stop watching her, but I can't, and no matter what I do, I can't withstand the urge to check on her.
Letting my impulses get the best of me, I pull up the feed, holding my breath as London appears in my line of sight. She's talking to Grace, at the bakery, only she's sitting at a table, maybe on break or off the clock. I should know her hours by now, but every time I figure them out, they change again. I'm not mad at her for being unpredictable, because that alone is what could keep her from some creep that isn't me stalking her.
"Don't turn on the audio," I tell myself, hovering my finger over the button. "Don't do it." I sigh and push it anyway, hating myself for my lack of control.
"You're coming to the gala still, right?" Grace asks London and takes a sip of her latte.
"I mean, I want to, yeah." London rubs at her neck like something is bothering her. "I don't know if I can."
"Why? The bakery is closed then, right? What else could you be doing? Come on. Don't leave me hanging. I will totally guilt-trip you, and I won't even feel bad about it."
"You're ruthless," London tells her.
"I know. Need not mention how we're no longer roommates, and that was devastating enough. You're not going to leave me with Leo, are you? Come on, who cares if the grumpy brother is there? Don't let that stop you."
I lean in closer, my breath hanging on their every word, wondering what London is going to say next. It's like a fucking car crash I can't peel my attention away from.
"It has nothing to do with him ."
"I'm not going to let it go until you give me a reason. I deserve that much." Grace bats her eyelashes dramatically at London.
London sighs. "I don't have anything to wear."
"Is that it?" Grace laughs and shoves London's shoulder playfully. "We can go shopping this weekend."
London doesn't add that she can't afford to go shopping, because I know damn well she isn't going to use the black Amex of mine that she's still in possession of and she isn't exactly rolling in cash at her bakery gig. I've checked the charges almost every day and she hasn't spent a dime of my money.
Not bothering to witness any more of what their conversation entails, I throw on the cleanest clothes I can find and slip out of my apartment, marching straight into the store London did on her first outing when she arrived here over two months ago.
"Welcome to Charlotte's," a woman calls out to me from her spot stocking a shelf. "Can I help you with anything?"
I point to the dress in the back corner, the one London had her eye on the second she came here, passing on it because it was way more than she had at the time. "I'll take that. And whatever shoes go with it. A size seven."
"Oh, you're serious." She drops the sweater she was folding and darts around the table. "It's eight thousand."
"I don't care." I slide my Amex out of my wallet and hold it out to her. "Here."
She goes to work zipping a garment bag around the dress and taking it off the hook. "Special occasion?"
"Something like that," I tell her, not quite coming to terms with the fact that I'm here at all, spending thousands of dollars on a woman that hates me, and that I sort of hate, too.
"I have these open-toed stilettos that would look great with the Lorenzo. What do you think?"
"That's fine." I glance in the direction of the door, hoping like hell London doesn't get some random urge to come in here right now. According to her schedule, she's supposed to be at work. Perhaps she was meeting with Grace before and will be clocking in afterward.
"Can I help you with anything else today?" the store clerk asks me.
"No, thanks." I turn toward her, tapping my card on the screen as it flashes nine thousand something due. I made more money in the two hours I was drifting in and out of sleep last night, this is nothing.
"I'll put my card in the bag. If you ever need any assistance, I'm happy to help." She pauses and adds, "I'm Charlotte, by the way."
I force a smile and take the items from her, slipping out of the store and making my way back to the apartment complex. A window across the street catches my eye and I dart in front of traffic, not quite caring if they hit me or not.
A doorman holds his hand out to stop me. "Excuse me, sir. Do you have an appointment?"
"No. I don't need one." I stare at him, contemplating murder yet again. "Get your fucking hands off of me."
"Sir, I'm going to have to ask you to calm down." He puts both of his hands on my shoulders.
I react without thinking, taking my free hand to grab and twist his, positioning it behind his back in the blink of an eye.
He yelps and drops to his knees. "They don't pay me enough for this, really. Let me go, please."
"Sorry about that."I release him instantly, helping him to his feet. "Let's start again."
The doorman dusts off his legs and shoots a look into the store, no doubt hoping no one saw that happen.
"I'm Archer Sin. I don't have an appointment. Could you please check and see if they have an opening for me?"
His eyes widen and he averts his gaze, turning toward the door and unlocking it. "I'm sorry, sir. I had no idea. Please, come on in. Someone will be right with you." He pushes a button on the walkie-talkie attached to his collar. "Archer Sin is here, team. Please be advised."
By the time he's unlocked the door, four salespeople greet me inside, one of them taking the bags from my hands and another offering me a glass of champagne.
"I'm not thirsty," I tell him and scan the other clerks. "You." I settle on a rather timid, short female, not appearing quite as ravenous as the other three. "The rest of you, leave us be."
She blinks a few times and swallows harshly.
I snap my fingers at the person who has my bags from the other store. "Those stay."
The guy circles back, dropping them onto the counter before slipping into another room, out of sight.
"What can I help you with, Mr. Sin?" the woman who remains says.
"First, call me Archer. Second, I'm not going to hurt you, so whatever they told you in the twenty seconds it took to get me in the door, forget that. Third, what's your name?"
"Faith," she tells me.
"Well, I have faith that you're going to help me, Faith." I point to a display that catches my eye. "This here. Do you think it would go with this?" I grab the garment bag, unzipping it to reveal the dress I purchased for London.
"I think that would be a fine choice," she says reluctantly.
"Be honest, Faith. I won't be upset." I try to keep my tone even but I'm not exactly great with talking to other people.
Faith walks over, tapping on the glass. "This is a great piece, it is. But I think with the necklace and fabric choice, you'd be better suited with something else…something like…" She scans the displays until she finds what she's on the hunt for. "This."
I settle my eyes upon the case, knowing damn well I made the right choice when I picked her to assist me.
There, in all its glory, is a beautiful necklace fit for a princess.
"Tell me about it," I say, not knowledgeable about jewelry at all but confident this is the one I'm going to get.
"This is the Flowerlace necklace. It is rhodium-plated 18-carat white gold with over four hundred stones, totaling over twenty carats. With the lace and silhouettes of flowers, it combines nature and couture for a timeless look."
"I'll take it."
"Sir, I must mention that it's two hundred and twenty thousand dollars." She holds her breath like I might die at hearing the price tag.
"Yeah, that's fine. What else do you have that would go with it?" I peer into the case. "What about that ring and earrings, too? Oh wait, do you have any bracelets?"
"Yes, we do." She pulls the items out of the case for me to take a closer look at, not quite realizing that I've already decided to buy them all. "There isn't a matching bracelet for this collection, but there's one I think would go lovely with it…" Faith goes to another case, pulling out a bracelet that sparkles brighter than anything in this room. "Over thirty-six carats."
"I'll take that, too."
She clears her throat softly. "It's more expensive than the necklace."
"How much?"
"This piece is three hundred ninety-seven thousand."
"Oh. That's fine. I thought it would be more." I pull my phone out of my pocket, checking the time and notifications littering the screen."If you don't mind, I'm in rather a hurry."
"Of course, sir. I'll get those together for you. If you'll give me a moment." Faith carries everything into the back, leaving me out here alone with every camera in the building focused on me.
I'd take offense to it but I can only imagine the shit these people would be in if I robbed the place. I have no issue paying for it on my own, I'll leave my sticky fingers to the people who deserve to be taken from.
Faith returns a long moment later, a large bag in her grasp and a male sales associate on her heels. He's older, at least twice her age, and I hate how fucking close he is to her, her body language tense like she doesn't like it either.
He sets a small device on the counter. "Good day, Mr. Sin. I expect Faith has taken great care of you?"
I step toward him and he flinches. "Do you work on commission?" I tilt my head in Faith’s direction.
"Why, yes, Mr. Sin. All sales associates at Van Cleef & Arpels do," the man confirms.
"What's your name?" I ask him.
"Ransom, sir."
"Ransom," I repeat, inching closer. "Do you know who I am?"
He nods stiffly, his entire body tense.
I keep my voice low. "Then you know what I'm capable of, right?"
He nods again.
"If Faith doesn't make her entire commission, I'm going to hunt you down for a little visit. Do you hear me?"
"Y-yes, sir."
I allow some space between us, giving him a chance to alter the course of his future.
He chooses the right path, taking the device into his palm, pushing a sequence of buttons, and handing it to Faith.
"That'll be seven hundred fifty thousand one hundred forty-eight dollars and seventy-five cents." She lays the thing on the counter while hiding a grin.
I tap my black Amex, my phone ringing a second later. "Hello?"
"Mr. Sin, this is Gretchen from American Express calling. We flagged potential suspicious activity on your account."
I cut her off. "That's me. I'm purchasing a gift for a friend. Approve the purchase, please."
Typing on a keyboard comes through the speaker. "I have approved your purchase. Thank you, and have a great day, Mr. Sin."
The line disconnects and the card reader dings, alerting us to the transaction going through.
I focus on the man again while reaching for my bag. "And stop standing so close to her. It's making us both uncomfortable." I leave the store, shoving everything into one arm to bring my phone back out to check London's whereabouts.
Her location pings at the bakery still, giving me a little more time for one more task.