Chapter 22 Bailey
BAILEY
I rolled to my side on the hard bench in the small jail cell downtown. I had never been to jail before, and as I stood over the woman in the bar, I couldn’t exactly say I regretted my actions.
But as I tried and failed to get comfortable on this hard bench, while simultaneously doing my best not to vomit, I was regretting every second of it.
“I’m so calling off work tomorrow,” Cheyenne groaned.
“I wish I could. Wyatt might fire me after all the time I’ve taken off.”
“He gave you that time willingly,” she reminded me.
“Yes, but getting in a bar fight probably isn’t a good excuse to miss work.”
“No, but being detained is a perfectly plausible explanation. It’s not like you can choose to leave whenever you want,” she reminded me.
Not that it made any difference. I was stuck here, and if I didn’t show up to work, Wyatt would be pissed. No excuse would be good enough.
The outer door to the cells opened, and a grinning Maverick strode through.
“Are you sure you want to break these ladies out? They might benefit from a night in jail.”
The man from the bar stepped forward, but his face was masked by darkness, making it impossible to see who he was.
Frankly, I was too drunk a few hours ago—and too enraged—to get a good look at him.
But as he stepped into the light, there was something very familiar about him. He was tall. Like, way taller than Liam, and Liam was over six feet. Not to mention, he had muscles on top of muscles and that kind of look on his face that said he not only got into trouble a lot, but he enjoyed it.
Though, there was a hint of a smirk in there somewhere.
“You,” I said, almost accusingly.
“Archer.”
Archer. The name sounded familiar, but—
“Wait, I know you! Junior year—”
“Senior year, actually.”
“You were only here for like six months, and you kept getting into trouble, until you finally got expelled for…”
“For nearly putting another kid in a coma,” Cheyenne finished for me. “Holy shit.” She leaned over, lowering his voice. “Can I take him home?”
I smacked her arm, still reeling from the man in front of me. “Why are you here for us?”
“Did you want me to leave?”
I shook my head, but no words came out.
“Call it a favor for a friend.”
I thought I remembered him saying something like that last night, but the words were jumbled with alcohol and bad choices.
“Well, if you can vouch for these ladies and get them home, I’ll let them out. Otherwise, they can stay the night on these hard benches and think of…more creative ways to let loose at the end of the night.”
“We wouldn’t have had to let loose if Liam wasn’t such a douchebag,” Cheyenne muttered.
I elbowed her, begging her to keep her mouth shut so we could get the hell out of here.
“While I think a night in the slammer might do them some good, they both look like they’ve learned their lesson.”
I didn’t care what he said to get us out. I wanted my bed and some Tylenol. And probably a jug of water.
“I’ll make sure they get home in one piece.”
“And keep them there,” Mav said, shaking Archer’s hand.
As the door creaked open, I hesitantly stepped forward, almost afraid it was a joke—that Maverick was going to laugh at us and slam the door in our faces. As if knowing exactly what I was thinking, he jokingly tried to shut the door in my face before laughing and opening it wide for me.
“Just joking, darlin’.”
I would have shot him a nasty look or something equally horrible, but my brain was on the fritz, and all I wanted was to get out of here as quickly as possible.
“Oh, thank God!” Cheyenne shouted as we stepped outside the police station just a few minutes later.
The cool air chilled my skin instantly, but it also helped to sober me up just a tad more.
“Shit, I have to be at work in a few hours. That’s two nights of hardly any sleep. What the hell was I thinking?”
Cheyenne linked her arm through mine as we started walking down the sidewalk. “I believe you were thinking that your boyfriend is being a major douchenozzle, and you needed to let loose before you threw another steak knife at him.”
“You make it sound like I threw the first one at him on purpose,” I grumbled, wrapping my arm around her waist for added warmth.
“Is that all I get, ladies?” Archer called out from behind us.
Glancing over my shoulder, I saw the brute of a man standing on the sidewalk, grinning at us. It would probably be the polite thing to at least chat with him and say thank you, but something about his presence felt off.
“Thanks for the save,” I said, giving him a wave before continuing to walk. “Let’s get out of here,” I hissed.
“You want to get away from the beefcake back there? Why? I mean, of course, you have Liam, but what about me? This is why I wear the boots!”
“Some other time. Let’s just get out of here. I’ve had enough excitement for one night.”
“Fine,” she huffed. “I liked you better in the bar. You were fun and drunk.”
“I’m still drunk. Just dealing with a lot more shit than I need to tonight.”
With only a few more blocks to go, all I could think about was my warm bed and kicking off my boots. Tomorrow would be a new day, and I would forget about all the shit tonight.
Maybe Liam would be in a better mood, and all of this would have been for nothing.
Flashing lights and the humorous beep of a horn had us both turning around.
“Hello again, ladies!” Archer called out from his car. “Need a ride?”
“Ye—”
I jerked on Cheyenne’s arm, stopping her immediately.
“Um...nope. We like to freeze in the cold on the way home,” she corrected. “It’s sort of our thing.”
He chuckled, but didn’t zoom away like I hoped. “Well, I’ll follow you home. It’s the middle of the night, and I would feel terrible if something happened to you all because I let you walk home alone in the dark.”
“We’re not alone,” I corrected. “We have each other.”
“Still, wouldn’t be right.”
“God, when is this guy gonna leave?” I muttered.
“Hey, a sexy guy is looking out for us after we’ve had too much to drink. I would think you’d be grateful.”
“Grateful?”
“Yes,” she snapped.
I nearly stumbled as she jerked to a stop and tore her arm from mine. “Walk home if you want. But I’m freezing, and as much as I always brag about how amazing these shoes are, they’re killer to walk in for hours. So, I’m getting a ride.”
She backed away, challenging me to join her, but when I didn’t, she rolled her eyes and jogged toward the car.
“Dammit,” I muttered under my breath as she got in the passenger side. “She’s gonna get picked up by a serial killer one day.”
I rushed after her, ignoring the smirk on her face as I got in the back seat. “Thank you,” I said grudgingly to Archer.
“No problem.”
His teeth sparkled white in the dark, which really freaked me out. Maybe it was the alcohol running through my system, or the smile on his face, but there was nothing right about any of this.
Leaning forward, I hissed in my friend’s ear, “If we end up being eaten by bears after we’ve been raped and murdered, I will tear those boots from your feet and shove them down your throat.”
She spun around and grinned at me. “You know, you’re awfully feisty lately. Maybe you should talk to Liam about fixing that.”
Huffing, I crossed my arms over my chest and waited for the inevitable.
Except, we pulled up to the apartment only two minutes later—completely safe and unharmed.
“Ladies, can I walk you up?”
“That would be great,” Cheyenne said before I could tell him no.
At least there were two of us, and I had already stabbed one person with a knife. It wouldn’t be too difficult to do it again with the mood I was in.
It occurred to me as I got out of the car that this was the perfect opportunity to find out more about Archer, since he seemed so unwilling to just walk away and leave us alone.
“So, Archer, what have you been up to since you left town?”
“Little of this. Little of that.”
Cheyenne slid the key in the lock, and Archer held the door open for us, shooting me a odd look as I ducked under his arm.
“What she means to ask is if you’ve been out shooting unarmed people or stealing innocent children from their homes,” Cheyenne said over her shoulder as she ascended the stairs.
“That’s not what I meant,” I gritted out.
“Sure it is,” Archer chuckled. “And no, I haven’t shot any unarmed men or stolen any children. Well, none that didn’t want to be taken.”
Gasping, I whirled around, which was a terrible idea when I was still half-drunk.
The world spun with the motion, and as I tried to steady myself, my foot missed the step. My fingers brushed over the banister for a split second, and then I was falling.
I cried out, desperate to catch myself on something before I cracked my skull open, but there was nothing to grip onto.
Strong arms caught me just before I hit the stairs. I sucked in a ragged breath, my whole body shaking as I registered what might have happened if Archer hadn’t moved so fast.
“You okay?”
I couldn’t seem to think of anything other than the deep, gruff cadence of his voice whispering in my ear.
Was I okay? Fuck, I’d almost killed myself, and for what?
“I…”
My shaky voice rattled in my head. Hell, I didn’t sound okay. I sounded…fractured. Desperate.
But for what? There was something off about the way he was watching me, how his eyes followed me. I didn’t like it, and more than that, I didn’t like that Cheyenne was fawning over him.
“Um…Yeah, I’m okay.” Pushing off his chest, I took a step back, nearly tripping up the stairs in my attempt to get away from him. “Sorry, I—thank you. For catching me.”
“Aren’t you glad I picked you up, now?”
I hated to remind him that I wouldn’t have been rattled to begin with if he hadn’t followed us home.
As I turned to walk up the stairs, his hands landed on my hips, holding me steady. I glared at the knowing look Cheyenne shot me, then picked up the pace to escape his grip.
I counted down the seconds until we reached the apartment door, grateful I could finally escape Archer.
“Open the door,” I hissed at Cheyenne.