36. Archer
Chapter 36
Archer
" T alk to me, give me good news," I say to Seven, hoping like hell he's going to give me some kind of leverage against Vito so this shitstorm can be behind us once and for all.
"I've got good news and I've got bad news," Seven tells me as he steps into my apartment. "The good news is that Joe Vito has a ton of enemies, the bad news is that it's pretty much everyone he comes into contact with. No one likes the guy. Literally. Not a single person he's in business with has a good thing to say about him. I wouldn't be surprised if the guy hates himself, too."
"Fuck," I blurt out and go back to my computer to keep combing through his financials, looking for anything I can use. Joe has terrible spending habits, that's for sure, but it's nothing out of the ordinary for your common criminal with money.
He blows money on drugs, escorts, bottle service, private jets—the typical shit that only raises the IRS's red flags, not mine.
"Where's London?" Seven asks me, my attention turning to him.
"Why?"
"I wanted to see if she's talked to Grace."
"Oh." I don't know what I expected him to say, but that checks out. "She's in the bedroom. Knock first."
Seven goes over, actually listening to me and alerting London before barging in. Whoever this person is that is possessing my psychotic little brother, I hope they stick around.
I lean back, trying to think of any possible angle I can use to my advantage, hating myself for taking so fucking long to come up with a solution that doesn't end in my entire family being murdered because I fell for the wrong girl.
There's that fucking thought again— love.
I don't want it to be, the last girl almost ruining me for good when she broke my heart, but how can I ignore the feelings that won't seem to stop growing? If I can just solve this fucking problem, then I could process what it is I feel for her and figure out what it is. Maybe we could go on a proper date and get to know each other for who we really are, not the select few parts of us we chose to share. For the brunt of our relationship, London was hiding her entire identity from me, and I wasn't exactly being truthful with her about who I was, either.
I want to start over, but how is that possible when so much has already happened?
How can we begin when we've already been sabotaged?
Another day goes by and I'm nowhere closer to figuring out how to fix what's been done.
I can't erase what I did to the Manor brothers, and there isn't anything I can offer Joe to get him to give up his pursuit to take what's mine. I even reached out to Silver, asking him to use his contacts out West to try to come up with something to help me save everyone.
That’s when it hits me, maybe I don't have to save everyone .
"Archer?" London says from the doorway of the bedroom in our apartment.
I look up from my computer, where I had been staring blankly anyway. "Yeah?" I clear my throat. "What's up?"
"It's late. You should try to get some rest."
I can almost barely make out her words from across the way, so I get up and walk over there, my eyes still burning from lack of sleep.
"I'll go to bed soon," I tell her.
"Will you come to bed with me?"
"What?" My brain is slow to process what it is she's asking me.
"Not for sex. To sleep. Please . Sleep with me instead of on the couch."
I rub my neck and glance back at the computer, afraid that if I don't keep searching, the answer will slip right through my fingers. But with that, I realize I've already come up with what I have to do, I just haven't come to terms with it yet, and if I'm going to follow through with my plan, I should enjoy what remaining time I have left with London while I have it. Because once this is said and done, I'll never get that chance again.
London tugs on my shirt. "Archer, please."
"Okay."
I let her pull me into the room and strip out of my clothes, tossing them onto the chair in the corner, not giving a shit about folding them. That's the least of my worries at this point. I climb into bed next to her in nothing but my boxer briefs and hold out my arm for her.
London settles right into the spot between my collarbone and jaw, and I know with one hundred percent certainty that I'd be okay dying like this. She puts her arm over my chest, her leg between mine. I turn, our bodies entwining perfectly, with no indication of where I end and she begins. I almost suspect that this is what heaven is, being with her, so intimately yet so innocently. I'm going to miss this most, holding her, right where she belongs, safe in my arms. Maybe in another life we could get our happily ever after, because this one is destined for tragedy.
"I like it here," London mutters into me, her breath warm on my bare skin.
"Me too," I tell her, never speaking anything more truthfully.
Under different circumstances, I wonder how things between us would have ended up. London and I are polar opposites. I'm a clean freak, she's a mess. I grew up with no money, she had it all. She's a spitfire and I'm reserved. She's stronger than I am. If I would have had to endure everything she did, I would have given up long ago. I admire that strength, but I hate that she ever had to go through it. Sure, it brought her here to me, but at what cost? If I had to give up this pure bliss just to save her from a shred of the trauma she's been through, I'd do it in a heartbeat. I'd go back to my life of misery and solitude just to make sure she got the life she deserved, not the one she was forced into.
But these are the circumstances we were dealt, and the only thing I can do now is free her from the shackles her father placed on her the day she was born.
And as I press her fragile body into mine one last time, I savor this moment, because tomorrow I'm going to do something for possibly the first time in my life.
I'm going to accept responsibility for what I've done.
I'm going to turn myself in to the Manor brothers and confess to breaking the treaty.
It's the only way to save London, to save my family.
I must sacrifice myself.