38. Archer
Chapter 38
Archer
M y palms sweat and my stomach is twisted in knots, but not because I just killed Joe Vito.
I wipe my browwithmy armandtry to keep the world steady beneath my feet.
"I had it figured out," I whisper. "I had it all figured out."
"Archer," her voice callsout and slices through me like a dagger tothechest.
"Don't." I turn toward her, the sight of her making all this somehow worse. "How could you?" If I thought what Madison did to me stung, that was nothing compared to this. London was supposed to be different. What we had was supposed to be real.
"Archer, please, you have to understand. I didn't do this to hurt you." London comestoward me, her hands out as if she's going to touch me but she isn't quite sure if she can.
"Don't touch me," I tell her to make it abundantly clear, my heart aching at the finality of everything. The moment she stepped foot in here with a gun given to her by my own fucking brother, that sealed both of their fates. I want nothing to do with either of them, not now, not ever.
She lowers her arms and silent tears stream down her cheeks.
God, it fucking kills me to watch her cry, but there's not a damn thing I can do to stop it, not when she's already made her decision.
I sit on the armrest of the nearby sofa chair, the gun still in my grasp, my head hung low. "I had it figured out," I say again, this time louder.
"I didn't know, Archer. I didn't know. I'm sorry." London remains where she stands, where I snapped at her not to touch me. "I didn't think I had a choice."
I look up at her despite it unleashing another bout of agony raging through me. "That's the thing, London. You always had a choice. And you made yours. You couldn't be bothered to talk to me, to trust me. I told you I'd figure it out. I gave you my word, did that mean nothing to you?"
"It did, I promise you, it did, but I still thought we were in too deep." She wipes her cheek, her chest sputtering from the tears she can't control. "I couldn't give myself to him, you have to understand what that would be like. You heard him, what he was planning on doing to me." Her lip quivers. "But even as badly as I wanted to, I couldn't go through with it." She shakes her head. "I couldn't do that to you."
"But you did, London. You had every intention of killing him when you came here with this." I shove the gun into the air between us, causing London to flinch. "You trusted Seven, but not me?" I slump my head once again, trying to make sense of everything.
"I don't trust Seven over you, Archer. I just knew he had no moral compass and would help me. I manipulated him because I knew I could, that was it."
"Is that what you've been doing to me?" I meet her watery gaze. "Manipulating me?"
"Never," she says, her voice barely a whisper. "I wouldn't do that to you."
"I don't believe a word coming out of your mouth."
"Then kill me." London spreads her arms wide, inviting me to end her life. "I'm going to lose you either way. Just do it."
I scoff. "I'm not going to kill you, London. I don't care how much I hate you. I could never kill you." I couldn't even bring myself to kill Madison, although the thought crossed my mind, and I don't know what that says about me, about my character. "I wish you would have talked to me first, told me what you were planning on doing. I wouldn't have stopped you; I just would have asked for more time." I pause, my mind going a mile a minute. "That's what's fucked up, you know? I understand why you did it. But it doesn't make it hurt any less. After everything we've been through, after telling you what Madison did to me, you went and did the same thing. Only, this is worse, because I actually loved you." The words slip out of my mouth before I have a chance to stop them.
London inches forward, hesitantly. "Archer." She drops to her knees next to me, her hands on my leg, her head tilted up at me.
"Don't say it, it's only going to make this worse."
"But…" Her eyes dart back and forth between mine as if she's trying to telepathically communicate with me, and as much as I hate it, I can read her mind.
I can feel how sorry she is.
I can sense every bit of love she's begging me to understand, but it doesn't matter—it doesn't change anything.
If she loved me, truly, she wouldn't have done this.
"Why are you here, Archer? If you weren't here for me, why were you here?" London changes the subject and I'm grateful because I can't stand to think about everything we lost when she came here today.
"To kill him," I tell her truthfully.
"I'm not following." London stays at my side, her hands practically burning their way through my pants and into my body.
"I guess we were both here for the same reason." I swallow the lump in my throat. "You came here to choose yourself, and I gave myself up to choose you."
"What do you mean, you gave yourself up? To who?"
"I went to Blake Manor, I confessed to hacking into the Manor, I told him I was the reason for the breach. I figured my only choice was to take away the one advantage Vito had over me."
"You didn't come here to talk to Joe?"
"No, I already told you, I came here to kill him." I lift my shirt to reveal the gun I had tucked up under my waistband, never needing it since London brought her own. It was cake hacking into the elevators and granting myself access, and Vito did me a favor when he ordered room service, giving me the perfect opportunity to get into his room. He was a careless and overly confident man and because of it, I was able to come in nearly undetected, until I spotted London inside the room and that changed literally everything.
"But if you told Blake, that means you…"
"Confessed to breaking the treaty," I finish when she doesn't. "I took full responsibility for it, sparing my siblings’ lives and businesses. Blake was thrilled, but reasonable, accepting my life in exchange for payment."
"Archer, no." She shakes her head as if she's realizing the magnitude of the situation and the lengths I went through to save her life. And that's what makes it worse, because I traded my life for hers and she did nothing but stab me in the back when I wasn't looking.
"What's funny," I say, not a hint of humor detected in my voice. "Is that I negotiated my freedom and his silence."
She blinks up at me, her confusion completely appropriate given what I've filled her in so far.
"One thing I forgot to mention," I tell her. "Is that Blake Manor was in love with Madison, too. That's why it upset me seeing you two together at the gala. This whole thing, it's like I've been reliving it over and over." I draw in a breath and focus on the point I'm trying to make here. "He was convinced Madison was dead, too. I told him she was alive, and that I'd disclose her location if he held up his end of the bargain. Oh, the things a foolish man in love will do, even forsaking his oath to his family to chase after a woman who couldn't care less whether he lives or dies."
"I…" London struggles to find the words, and I don't blame her, but I can't continue to be in the same room as her, otherwise I might do something I regret more than what I've already done.
I stand from the spot where I was sitting, brushing London's hands off me and not even glancing in Joe Vito's direction, his fate sealed long before we stepped foot in this room. If it weren't London or me, it would have been someone else he crossed on his incessant rampage to gain power from places he didn't belong. I'll never live down the fact that I killed him, and sure, there will be consequences to my actions here today, but I've already lost everything once, and I don't really care if I have to do it all again.
"Come on," I tell London and make my way to the door. "We're going home."
"Home? Together?"
I keep my back to her, every muscle in me going rigid, my mind fighting with my broken heart. "We're neighbors, London." I pause. "Plus, I don't trust Seven to take you home."
"Oh." She follows me to the door and watches as I tuck the gun she brought here under my shirt. "What do we do about that?"
"It'll be dealt with." I open the door, holding it for her to walk through, and walk behind her to the elevator. "This way." I guide her to the stairwell and descend the stairs, all too late remembering that I came here on my bike and that our entire ride is going to be her body pressed against mine. I detach my thoughts from my body and pretend this is any other time when I put my helmet over her head, secured it, and helped her onto the bike.
I ignore her arms around me, her legs hugging my sides tightly, the warmth of her seeping into my entire body. I focus on her deceit, how selfish she was in choosing herself over me, how she trusted Seven and plotted behind my back. I remind myself that I hate her, that I have from the moment she stepped foot on my doorstep and that the only reason she's here is because Silver needed my help. She disrupted my life, my family, my every waking thought. London is a tornado, wrecking everything in her path, not a shred of remorse in her at all.
Holding on to that, I zip us through town, darting through traffic in a mindless state. It isn't until we're in the parking garage that I break the silence. I help her off the back of the bike. "Don't feel obligated to move. Your rent is paid up. I'll sell my apartment the first chance I get. In the meantime, I'll respect your privacy as long as you respect mine." I hook the helmet onto the bike and don't bother taking in the tears that still line her eyes because I don't know how much more of it I can take. I leave her there and jog up the stairs, desperate to put as much space between us as possible, my heart being ripped to shreds with each step away from her.
It kills me to leave her, but it would kill me even more to stay.
An entire week passes and I don't hurt any less today than I did then.
I haven't checked London's location and I haven't looked up a single surveillance feed to show me what she's doing. I can't bring myself to see her because if I stand any chance of getting over her, I have to move on, as much as it pains me. Part of me wishes she would have died that day, because at least then I would have had something to mourn instead of the betrayal I can't seem to stomach.
Madison gave me that—her death—something to hold on to and attempt to process. London left me with nothing but her hair in my shower and the scent of her remaining on my sheets. I can't do anything without being reminded of her, and despite my efforts, I can't help but think I'm leaving my apartment in shambles just to pretend like she's still here, haunting me in her wake.
My phone rings and I want to ignore it, but Ivy is persistent, and if I don't answer soon, she'll show up at my apartment.
I swipe the button and connect the call. "Yeah?"
"Arch, hey, finally."
"What do you need, Ivy?"
"I wanted to call and check in, see how you're doing."
"I'm fine," I lie. "Now if that will be all…"
"Don't hang up on me," she blurts out. "Aren't you going to ask me how I'm doing?"
I sigh. "How are you doing, Ivy?"
"I'm great, thanks for asking."
"Fantastic. Glad we got that out of the way."
"I'm worried about you, Arch."
I fidget with my phone on my desk, my computer screen blinking with the few open tabs of nothing in particular. I haven't gotten much of anything done lately, and it shows, because our finances have started to decline, and I don't have the will to figure out how to fix it. Even when Madison died I wasn't this out of sorts, and I don't know what to think of that. I was with Madison for six years and London and I were never truly together. Surely, I should be over things by now, but every time I glance in the direction of London's apartment, a pain jabs me in the chest.
"You have nothing to worry about," I tell Ivy.
"Why don't you just talk to her? Make up? She's not dead, Archer, but you're acting like she is."
"Do you need anything else?"
"I need you to listen to me. This family needs you. You ,Archer, not the ghost of you, not some shell of a human pretending to be him. We need you."
A knock ripples through my apartment. "Ivy, I've got to go, someone's at the door."
"Don't lie to me, Archer."
"I'm not lying." I grab the phone and head in that direction. "I'll talk to you later." I hang up and toss it onto the table near my door, right next to the one that London left behind. I have half a mind to give it back to her but I'd be too compelled to track her and I don't want the ease of making that happen.
I open the door, not bothering to check and see who it is first, not caring at all if it's the fucking grim reaper ready to take me away.
London is standing there in fitted black jeans, tall heels, and a tight corset-looking top with lace. She's wearing a tan trench coat and holds a boom box above her head, with the song "In Your Eyes" by Peter Gabriel playing quietly. Her gaze meets mine and she steps forward, my body almost immediately reacting by moving back, but I stay in place.
"London, this isn't necessary," I tell her, not wanting her to make a spectacle.
"Archer, please, hear me out." London sucks in a breath as if to prepare herself for the speech she's about to make. "I don't have money, not like you do. I can't shut down a restaurant or redirect traffic lights. I don't know how to hack into your phone and track you, or pull up camera feeds to figure out everything you want or desire. I've been racking my brain on what to do, some grand gesture, to tell you, to show you, just how sorry I am. I've wanted to march over here so many times, to bang on the walls, just to see if you're still there. I hate that I hurt you. I hate that I can't make it right.
"There isn't anything I wouldn't be willing to give up to change what happened. I'm sorry, Archer. From the bottom of my heart. I have regretted what I did every single second. I made a mess, and it's up to me to clean it up, to repair what I've broken. I can't sleep. I can't eat. There isn't a thought in my head that doesn't involve you. What you did for me? No one in my life has ever put me first. I didn't know what to do with that. But I do now. If you'll give me a chance. I'll do anything to fix this, just please give me a chance." Her eyes glisten but she keeps the tears at bay this time.
I watch her carefully, her words coursing through me as I process everything she said, coming to the same realization that I have for a week now. I can't do this. I can't be with her. Not when it hurts this fucking badly just to be near her, to see her, to breathe the same air she is.
"I'm sorry, London. Some messes can't be cleaned up." I shut the door without another thought, closing myself off to her forever.