Chapter Twenty-Two
Archie
Archie nursed a bourbon at the corner of Pints ’n Pool, the jukebox playing some dusty blues that matched the way his insides felt—heavy and aching.
The smell of fried food clung to the air.
Grease and despair, similar to Blue Star Diner minus the alcohol scent.
He hadn’t even touched the coaster under his glass, just let the condensation drip down like it had every right to be there, no questions asked.
His father hadn’t called. Not once. Nothing but silence and that damn voicemail that just said, “Mailbox full.”
Archie stared into his drink like it might answer him. It didn’t.
The stool beside him creaked. He didn’t have to look to know who it was. Jade had a special scent, like Brogan’s. Maybe they used the same cologne, or Jade wanted him to think Brogan had been all over him.
“Well, look who’s brooding into his bourbon,” Jade said, too loud and too smug for the space they shared.
Archie sighed. “Not now, man.”
But Jade never knew when to shut up. He flagged the bartender with a wink and turned back to Archie. “You know, Brogan told me a secret about you.” Jade leaned in, breath laced with mint and cockiness. “He’s just keeping you around ’cause he feels bad. Thinks you’ll break or something.”
Archie blinked. The words hung in the air like cigarette smoke, sharp and clinging. His chest tightened.
Jade kept going. “He doesn’t want you. Not really. Not the way you want him.”
Something inside Archie split open. He hadn’t said it out loud to anyone, but he’d felt it in his head, the distance, the doubt. And now Jade was dragging it into the light like some dirty secret.
He looked at Jade, really looked at him.
The smirk. The way his fingers drummed on the counter like this was just a game.
Jade had no clue what it felt like to sit in a bar alone, trying to quiet thoughts that didn’t have off switches.
No idea what it meant to carry the weight of someone else’s mistakes—his dad’s sentence like a chain-link straight to his ribs.
“Say one more thing,” Archie warned.
Jade smirked wider. “Touchy. Must’ve hit a nerve—”
Archie shoved him. Quick, hard, off the stool. Jade hit the ground with a grunt, knocking over his drink on the way down. The bar went quiet for a second—just long enough for that sharp inhale from someone who hadn’t seen a fight since high school.
Jade scrambled up, fists flying. Archie ducked the first swing but caught the second across his jaw. His head snapped to the side and something red-hot flared behind his eyes. He swung back, catching Jade in the ribs, then again in the shoulder. It wasn’t clean, but it was angry. Raw.
Chairs scraped. Someone yelled. The bartender shouted something about “take it outside!”
Archie felt fists, elbows, and knees until two burly arms dragged him back. Jade was coughing on the floor, lip bleeding, shirt ripped.
Next thing he knew, they were both out the door, landing hard on the cracked sidewalk.
“You’re both banned,” the bartender growled from the doorway. “Indefinitely.”
Jade spat blood into the gutter, shot him a glare, and walked off like nothing had happened. He crossed the street to his sleezy motel.
Archie sat back against the wall, chest heaving, hand throbbing.
He didn’t feel better. Not even close.
But at least Jade was gone. Awesome.
The street outside Pints ’n Pool was half-lit and smelled like hot pavement and spilled beer.
Archie sat on the curb, knuckles scraped and throbbing, one side of his shirt torn at the collar.
The adrenaline was wearing off fast, leaving just the heaviness.
He leaned his head back against the brick, eyes closed.
Everything hurt. Not just the punch to the jaw or the barked knuckles—but the thing under all that. The ache that had been growing ever since the horrible news dropped that his dad was sent away.
He hadn’t meant to lose it like that. But Jade knew exactly what to say, like he’d studied Archie’s weak spots and jabbed them one by one.
He laughed, soft and bitter. “Dumb.”
The worst part was, somewhere inside, a part of him believed Jade. Not because Jade was right, but because Archie had been telling himself the same damn story in the dark when it was just him and the ceiling fan spinning.
Maybe Brogan felt sorry for him. Maybe Archie was just the guy hanging on, hoping for something more when there was nothing there to begin with. Just static. Just…echoes.
A breeze kicked up, and he welcomed it, even if it stung his split lip.
People passed by without a glance. Just another guy with blood on his shirt and a head full of ghosts.
The sound of boots scuffing against the sidewalk broke the silence.
Archie didn’t even open his eyes. “If it’s you again, Jade, I swear—”
“It’s not.”
His eyes snapped open.
Brogan stood a few feet away, hands in his jacket pockets, brows drawn low beneath the glow of the streetlamp. His face was unreadable, but the tension in his shoulders gave something away.
Archie looked away, jaw clenched. “You hear about the scene I made?”
Brogan nodded once. “Bartender called me. Said you lost it with Jade.”
A bitter laugh bubbled up in Archie’s throat. “Of course he’d say that.”
For a minute, neither of them said anything. Brogan shifted, took a step closer, but didn’t sit. Just hovered.
“You okay?”
Archie snorted. “What do you think?”
Brogan sighed and finally sat down beside him, pulled out a tissue and wiped Archie’s face. They sat in the charged quiet, the buzz of a neon beer sign flickering in their space.
The street hummed around them with cars in the distance, and the faint clatter of a bar stool getting righted inside. But none of it mattered. Just this beat between them, stretched thin and pulsing.
“What the fuck happened here?”
“He said something about us,” Archie finally muttered. “Said you’re only keeping me around out of pity.”
Brogan didn’t flinch, didn’t deny it right away either, and that split-second of silence stung more than Jade’s punch.
“Arch—”
“No, it’s fine.” Archie ran a hand through his hair, fingers snagging in the mess of it. Should’ve known better .
Brogan turned, his voice quiet but firm. “I’m not here out of pity, and you know that.”
“I know that, but I was already messed up. Jade was just saying shit to hurt me and it did, especially after what I found out today.”
“What happened today?”
Archie blinked against the pressure behind his eyes. “My father…” He paused. “He’s in prison. That’s why I went to visit my uncle David.”
“Why didn’t you call as soon as you found that out instead of going to a bar?”
“I just needed to be alone to digest it all first. Then Jade showed up with his shit. He had lunch at the diner on my shift and said more shit that you two had breakfast this morning. I just had enough.”
“I had to work earlier. No breakfast with Jackass Jade.” Brogan helped Archie up. “I’ll drive, then I’ll pick up your motorcycle later.”
As they were walking to Brogan’s van, Andrew rushed up to them. “Hey, are you okay?” he asked Archie.
Archie shook his head.
“He got into it with Jade,” Brogan said.
“I heard. I had someone drop me off so I could ride your motorcycle home for you.”
“Thanks.” Archie handed Andrew his keys.
“Take care. I’m going to ban Jade from the diner. You have enough to deal with.”
Archie hugged Andrew, then he left on Archie’s bike.
Once they were in the van and had secured their seat belts, Brogan kissed Archie’s cheek.
“I’m glad you came for me,” Archie said, voice cracking. “I don’t believe anything Jade said. I was just in a bad place. I can see that now.”
Brogan looked down, the weight of his guilt pressing on him, visible in the way his shoulders slumped. Archie was disappointed in him because he couldn’t make a clean cut with Jade. He was disappointed with himself.
Once they got home, Brogan helped him up to the bathroom and filled the tub so he could soak in it.
“I want to be alone,” Archie said.