Archer
ARCHER
W e left Fletch’s place somewhere around midnight—me, Minka, and Cato—step-shuffling into the cold where Frank remained, waiting to drive us home. And then we hit our pillows about three minutes after walking through our door because it was going on more than twenty-something hours since Minka and I last slept, and exhaustion made it impossible for us to do anything else.
But now I wake to the early morning sunrise beating through our window. Minka dozes, her body wrapped over mine and her long, brown locks draped over my chest. Her ear rests on my heart and her lips, an inch from my nipple. Her dark lashes kiss her cheeks while she catches up on the rest she never got yesterday, but her skin is a little pale.
Her lips, not nearly as cherry red as normal.
We forgot to medicate her last night. But now that I’ve slept and my brain has had a moment to process, the things I didn’t do yesterday come crashing back into my consciousness.
Starting with Minka’s medication.
Remembering the search warrant I didn’t carry out.
And then, as my phone vibrates on the table beside my bed, I remember the call I was supposed to make.
But didn’t.
Which means Felix has come looking, just as promised.
Shit. I reach out blindly, feeling around for the phone and bringing it up to check the screen—his name, right there summoning me—then I answer and grumble an impatient “hang on” before I mute us both and slowly, carefully slide out from beneath Minka and extract myself without waking her.
She’ll be extra tired today because of her forgotten medication, which means that’s our first priority this morning. I drag myself out from beneath her body and take care to fix the covers so she doesn’t catch a chill, then turning from the bed, I snag a pair of jeans and step into the denim as I fist my phone and wander out of the room.
As soon as I’m in the hall and the door is closed, I unmute our call and bring the phone to my ear. “I’m here.”
“You said you’d call me later, asshole. A big brother is apt to worry when he’s hearing certain rumors spreading from the West Coast to the East.”
I turn into the bathroom and relieve myself, even with Lix listening in. “We got busy and clearly had priorities that were more pressing than giving you a life update.” I shake my cock and tuck myself back into my jeans, then lowering the lid, I flush and hold the phone between my shoulder and ear, so I can wash my hands. “We had to tell Mia about her mom. That’s what we were doing when you called.”
He exhales a tired sigh that almost sounds like a puff of smoke. But I know he quit, so I no longer picture the sticks of nicotine pinched between his fingers. “There’s something to be said for knowing since birth your mother is dead. What you don’t know, you won’t miss, right?”
I wipe my hands on the towel and hold the device again as I move into the hall and start toward the kitchen. “I guess there’s a silver lining to every tragedy. We didn’t know ours, so we never wept for her. Mia sobbed last night, Lix.” I pass a sleeping Cato and move into the kitchen, not to start the coffee—though I will, soon—but to take a Factor pack from the fridge and pull the liquid vial from the packaging, so I can roll it in my hand and bring the temperature up. “She cried so fucking much, it was like I was swallowing razor blades.”
“She’s okay though…” He doesn’t sound so sure. “Right?”
“As okay as anyone can be, I guess. She’s four, so she’ll rebound eventually. But unlike you and me, she knew her mom, and even if Jada wasn’t emotionally or mentally healthy, she was still that little girl’s mom. Never seeing her again, and never being able to say goodbye, is gonna hurt no matter what.”
“Can she go see the body? Maybe that’ll help?”
I slip the vial into my pocket momentarily so it rests against my thigh while my hands are busy. Then I take a mug from the cupboard and place it beneath the coffee spout. “I don’t know that that’ll help.” I hit the button and start the machine, the delicious scent of coffee hitting my senses a mere second later. “She was beat to hell and back, Lix. Bruised all over. Busted face. Her lips were split and her cheek was shattered. Her skull was basically split open. Her arm was re-broken when it hadn’t even healed from last time. And then there’s the damage the doctors did, slicing her throat to get a trach in and all that shit. Not even the most skilled autopsy tech will make her look decent enough for a little girl to see.”
He noisily scratches his stubble and groans. “I would come over, Arch. You know I would, but?—”
“Christabelle needs you there.” I stare down at the mug as pitch-black liquid slowly brings the level higher. “It’s okay. I doubt Fletch wants you here, and he doesn’t have the bandwidth to be dealing with anything more than he’s already got. You stay there with Christabelle and make sure she’s doing okay. She still sick?”
“Yeah. Some days, it’s better. Some days, it’s not. Her head is in a bucket more often than not, so I feel pretty fucking shitty, considering it’s my fault she’s like that.”
“Growth.” Chuckling, I turn from the machine and move to the fridge to get creamer. “Felix Malone is finally learning a little humility. Looks good on you.”
“Arch—”
“You wanted to breed her,” I taunt. “You got what you asked for. Now she’s puking every day, and your conscience is making you feel like crap for it. That’s character growth if I ever saw it.”
“You’re being an asshole.”
“She’s gonna be fine.” I grab the creamer and slam the fridge shut, only to jump when Minka’s eyes meet mine. “Jesus! Woman!”
“You left without me.” She walks straight into me, wrapping herself around my chest like she’s grown extra arms and legs. “We talked about this, remember? Leaving me alone in there is basically saying you hate me.”
I wrap her up in a hug and press a kiss to the top of her head. But I linger, breathing warm air against her scalp and inhaling the scent of her shampoo until it fills my lungs. “I definitely don’t hate you, Minnnka. But I’m warming your diluent so you can take your meds.”
“Character growth for us all,” Felix teases in my ear. “Younger would have stayed in bed and fucked her while she slept while taking a phone call. There’s no need to waste a perfectly good situation, even if the phone rings.”
“I’m hanging up now. You had my attention while my wife was sleeping, but now she’s up, and you’re no longer of interest to me.”
“Cold motherfucker.” He laughs. “So cold. What can I do for Fletch that’ll help?”
“I don’t know. I?—”
“Groceries,” he decides easily. “I’ll send someone out to fill his fridge and cupboards. And I’ll have a warm meal delivered each night, at least until the funeral is done and out of the way. And I’ll cover the cost of burying her since we know that shit is expensive.”
“Do we?” I cut in. “Tim usually tosses them into the orchard and calls it a day.”
“Cold,” he repeats on a quiet laugh. “Jesus, Arch. Some could say you have less of a heart than me. That’s new. I’ll cover the funeral and all that shit, but tell him whatever you need to tell him so he doesn’t get his panties in a knot. Like it’s a partners-of-the-police-program or whatever. Say what you’ve gotta say, so he doesn’t try to refuse. And I’ll have those ladies come back and clean his place. I want him to worry about nothing but him and that cute little kid of his.”
“Funny you mention hearts, as you wear yours so shamelessly on your sleeve.”
“Don’t tell anyone. That would be embarrassing. Cato okay?”
I glance across to his long, long leg hanging off the edge of my couch, and at the other end, a mess of midnight-black hair, growing a little too wild since he decided to move in half a year ago. “Yeah. He’s secretly obsessed with Mia, so I know he’s feeling it. But he was raised a Malone, so he’s good at pretending nothing hurts. I’ll keep an eye on him, and Fletch,” then I look down, only to see the top of Minka’s head, “and my wife, too. Because everyone around me is gonna be feeling what they’re feeling, and none will admit they need help. I’ll catch them if they stumble.”
“Less talking about me,” Minka grumbles. “More hugging.”
“She’s so cute when she’s needy,” Felix snickers. “And how are you doing?”
“Me?”
“Well… she was your best friend’s wife once upon a time. Maybe she’s been a total pain in yours and Fletch’s ass the last year, but before that, I imagine you thought of her the way I think of Minka. If we lost the good doctor, I can’t say I’d be too pleased about it.”
“You’re wrong.”
“About what?”
“Me thinking of Jada the way you think of Minka. I never wanted to fuck Jada.”
He chuckles. “Past-me. I’m a married man now.”
“Mmhm. And yeah,” I shrug and press another kiss to Minka’s brow. “I’m fine. I’ll get everyone through as best I can. Ask me again once it’s all done. I might need to take a breather then.”
“Bottling it up like a man. Attaboy. Call me if you need anything, okay? I can have shit done within minutes, but I can’t read your mind.”
“I’ll call you.” I release Minka, earning a scowl and a pouty bottom lip, but I turn to the coffee machine, finally, and pour a little creamer into the mug so she has something to drink. “Give Debbie our love.”
“ Debbie .” He snorts. “You got it.”
He kills our call, the line going silent, so I toss the device onto the counter, set the creamer down beside it, then grab the newly made coffee and spin back to offer it to my sulking wife. “I have gifts for you.”
“Thank you.” She steps in again, leaning against my chest, and accepts her coffee with both hands wrapped around the mug. But before she can sip, a long, gripping yawn escapes her chest and forces her eyes to squeeze shut. “Geez. I feel like we slept for an hour, at the most.”
“We caught about six and a half.” I twist and snatch another mug down to start the process for myself. “That’s enough for me, but you don’t have to be anywhere this morning, so why don’t you medicate and then go back to bed?”
She sips her coffee, grinning behind the cup as though proud of her defiance. “Won’t sleep after caffeine, so there’s no need to try. I’ll call the office in a bit and brief my team on what they need to do.”
“You’re not going in?”
She shakes her head, firming her lips until they’re almost a flat line. “No. I can’t work while all this is going on with Fletch. Besides, we know Fifi will be cruising along in her toxically unhealthy coping mechanisms, so I’m gonna hunt her down. She saw way too much last night and dipped out long before I could talk to her. I want to make sure she’s okay. Then I’ll head to Fletch’s and just…”
I lift a brow in question. “Just?”
“Hang out, I guess. Spend time with Mia and give him a minute to shower or do whatever he needs. He’s in survival mode right now, and his focus will be solely on his daughter. I doubt he’s done anything since we left except stare at her and relive everything that happened at the hospital. He’ll be in shock, so…” She shrugs. “Ya know. I wanna help.”
“You have a heart, too.” I drop a kiss to her lips. “I love you.”
“I love you too. Will you go to work today?”
“I have to, for a little bit, anyway. I need to search a home and collect the evidence that’ll lead to a formal arrest, or Masters will slip through and escape jail because I dropped the ball. I’ll talk to my lieutenant and give him an update on what’s happening with Fletch. And knowing you’ll hang with him today gives me a little more freedom to do the things I need. Then I’ll swing by his place and just…” My lips quirk into a small smile. “Hang out.”
“Sounds like we have a plan of action and a decent set of distractions. Avoidance is, obviously, the best way to move through trauma.”
Chuckling, I turn back to my coffee and add a little creamer on top now that the machine is done. “You should give motivational speeches to victims of violence. Avoidance is clearly the best option.” Setting the carton down, I pick up my mug and come back around to search her eyes. “And just so we’re clear… are we not discussing that today is the anniversary for the Diane Philips stuff?”
“Definitely not discussing it.” She steps onto her toes and kisses the underside of my jaw. “Cato’s asleep, and my factor is still warming in your pocket.” Pulling back, she moves onto flat feet again and takes my hand. Then she turns on her heels and peeks over her shoulder. “Wanna bang?”
“Mm.” I sip and walk. “I can’t think of a better way to dodge reality and escape a trauma response.”
“I’m not asleep.” Cato sits up on the couch. “Go and fuck if you want. But I’ll be listening to escape my own reality. If you can still get hard, knowing I’m the third wheel in your bed today, then have it, stallion.” He sets a hand in his lap. “I’m ready.”
Minka’s nose and lips screw up in disgust. Her cheeks warm, but her eyes chill. “I changed my mind.” She growls and drags me back toward the kitchen. “Medication and work. In that order.”
“Shitty choice.” Cato flops back onto the couch with a huff. “I was looking forward to forgetting everything else for a while. Now I have blue balls and no one to talk to about them.”
“And yet,” Minka releases my hand and reaches up to the basket atop the fridge, “you’re still talking.” She sighs and selects her rainbow tourniquet from its depths, then tosses the basket back up. “Today already sucks. And somehow, I can tell it won’t get any better.”