Chapter 30
Chapter
Thirty
FRANKIE
Frankie
The door to Archie’s room closed behind us with a quiet, final click. The house below still felt like it was vibrating. Or maybe that was me.
The sudden quiet seemed almost louder than the shouting.
Tory slipped in first from the sitting room attached to Archie’s room, her tail high like she owned the place. Tiddles barreled past her, immediately leaping onto the low platform steps that led to Archie’s bed. Tabby followed more cautiously, eyes wide, ears alert.
They didn’t care about shouting, arguments or shattered glass downstairs.
They cared that we were here. They also seemed utterly at home in here, which was a little unexpected. Had they been sneaking in here? And Archie? He didn’t even blink. If anything, something in his eyes softened for half a second when he saw them make themselves comfortable in his space.
Our space.
His room was massive. Bigger than my entire apartment used to be.
It had always intimidated me a little — dark wood, slate gray walls, the bed elevated on that platform like it belonged on a stage.
Two shallow steps up. A seating area off to one side.
Doors that led to his private bath and dressing room. It wasn’t just a bedroom.
It was a suite.
His kingdom, even with his game room being down the hall, it was right there. And right now it felt like a bunker.
We’d come home reckless, frisky, and heated. And now it was different. The mood had been beaten, then dragged behind a reckless vehicle racing away out of control, before being taken out back and shot.
I stopped near the foot of the steps leading up to his bed.
Archie didn’t.
He climbed them slowly, then turned and looked down at me.
He wasn’t cold anymore. He wasn’t smooth. He just looked… strained.
“Come here,” he said quietly. The need filling his eyes had me moving before he even finished speaking.
I stepped up.
Tory immediately claimed the corner of the bed. Tiddles flopped dramatically near the pillows like he’d been personally wronged by the downstairs drama. Tabby circled once and settled near Archie’s thigh.
He didn’t push them away.
His hand slid automatically to my waist again, but this time it wasn’t heated. It was anchoring, grounding me to him as he pulled me to him and when he laid his head against my chest, I wrapped my arms around him.
The silence stretched.
The adrenaline hadn’t fully left my system. My hands were still trembling faintly.
“That was…” I started.
He huffed once. “Embarrassing?”
“Violent.”
His hands flexed against my hips, then he pulled back and tugged me to join him. I sat on the edge of the bed. The height made everything feel slightly removed from reality. Like we were looking down on the world instead of standing in it.
“I always thought they hated each other,” I said slowly. Maddy definitely didn’t like Muriel, it was more of a feeling than a certainty. She never talked about them—any of them. Not where I heard it, but she would have a look on her face when they came up. “They would have to… But that…”
That was so ugly, clearly filled with years of festering resentment exploding into fists. Maddy had slapped me before, more than once. But I’d never seen her come so utterly unglued before.
Archie scrubbed both hands down his face and then leaned forward, elbows on his knees as he blew out a breath.
“I grew up with that,” he said. The delivery of those five words worried me more than their content. He wasn’t being dramatic or defensive, if anything, his tone was just flat. These were facts.
My head turned sharply. “Like that?” I could accuse Edward and Muriel of being neglectful, but I’d never seen them—
“It wasn’t physical, at least not with them. That demands a great deal more passion than either ever invested in me.” His mouth twisted and my heart sank. “The cold war has been going on for a long time.”
That felt so much worse and I hated that for him. Maddy was a terrible mother and she blew hot and cold, but at least I knew when I pissed her off.
I wrapped an arm around him and leaned against his back, just wanting to hold him. “I don’t understand how they’ve all just been living like this,” I whispered. “What your mother said—about my mother—coming in and out of their relationship.” Until the past few weeks, I’d had no idea.
Archie let out a short laugh that wasn’t humor. “Because none of them think they’re wrong.”
I thought about my mother downstairs. The way she’d looked when Edward said my wife. The way she’d flinched — but not retreated.
I swallowed. “Maddy lied to him,” I said quietly.
Archie stilled.
“She lied to Eddie,” I repeated. “About me. About the timeline. About everything.”
Silence.
Then—
“I know,” he said on a long sigh. “But Muriel lied to him too. Clearly, Edward needs to work on his judgment.” It was the resignation that cut at me, all over again. I was furious with Maddy, but Archie couldn’t even seem to muster up that energy because this betrayal wasn’t new.
That was beyond wrong.
I rubbed my cheek against his shoulder. “You knew?”
“I suspected,” he corrected.
His gaze shifted to the wall, not at me. “Edward normally doesn’t move without information. If he married Muriel thinking she was telling the whole truth… he’s either more reckless than I thought or he chose not to look.”
My stomach twisted.
“We need to tell him,” I said, about Maddy. About me.
That got his attention.
His head snapped toward me. “No.”
“Yes.” It would hardly save his relationship with either woman, and honestly, I didn’t care about that.
He twisted and moved to sit sideways so he could face me. “Frankie.”
“She lied,” I insisted, my voice rising despite myself. “And now they’re at war because of it. Because of history. Because of secrets.”
“And you think detonating the latest one will fix anything?” he shot back. The crack in his control showed there.
Small.
But there.
“We can’t just let him keep building something on a lie,” I said. “He keeps saying he wants to be my father.” A fact that just baffled me. “He shouldn’t be wasting that time on me, not when—”
“You think he doesn’t already know?” Archie demanded.
I froze.
His jaw flexed. “You think he doesn’t suspect? You think Muriel hasn’t already poisoned that well?”
The room felt smaller suddenly. The cats shifted slightly, probably even more aware of our tension than we were.
Tiddles stood, stretched, then plopped dramatically between us like he was inserting himself as a buffer.
Archie actually let out a breath that was almost a laugh at that. But it didn’t stick.
“I don’t want to live here,” I said quietly.
That piece of truth seemed to explode between us and Archie’s whole body went still as he stared at me. “What?”
“I don’t want to live in a house where glass flies because of me. Because of my mother.” My voice wobbled now, but I didn’t stop. “She and I need to move out.”
His entire body went still. “You are not leaving,” he said.
“I can’t stay.”
The platform felt like it was tilting.
“This is your house,” I said. “Your mother. Your family. Your history. We are the interlopers.”
“No,” he said immediately. “You’re not.”
“Archie—”
“No.” He stood abruptly, pacing once across the platform, then back. “I don’t give a shit about Maddy and if she wanted to vanish to hell tomorrow, I’d pay for the ticket. But you belong here, Frankie. You belong anywhere I am and I can protect you here.”
The words came out in a rush of heat like bullets being fired rapidly.
“You are not going to make yourself smaller to solve their problems.”
“I’m not making myself smaller,” I shot back. “I’m choosing peace.”
“There is no peace,” he snapped. “Haven’t you paid attention? There is conflict and there are armed truces. Those truces are better served when they are far apart, but we will get through this…”
That was it.
“We will,” he insisted. “Then they’ll leave and go—wherever the hell they want. They always do.”
That was the crack.
He stopped pacing and just stood there, hands braced on his hips, chest rising and falling faster than normal.
“You think moving out fixes it?” he continued. “You think Muriel suddenly becomes reasonable? You think Maddy stops circling? You think Edward develops a clue that his dick isn’t some magical dowsing rod that leads him to anything resembling an intelligent decision?”
I swallowed, internally cringing at those images.
“No.” It came out whisper soft, not because I was upset with him but because I wanted to fix this for Archie. This was all so unfair to him.
“Exactly.” He raked a hand through his hair. “I spent my entire childhood being moved around because of their dysfunction,” he said. “Boarding school. Europe. Summers away. You know why?”
I shook my head.
“So they wouldn’t have to see each other.”
That punched the air out of me.
“They removed me,” he went on, voice tighter now. “Like I was the inconvenience.”
The anger wasn’t explosive.
It was controlled.
Contained.
Barely.
I stood slowly and stepped toward him.
“You weren’t an inconvenience,” I said.
“Oh babe,” he laughed once — sharp and cutting without even an ounce of humor. “I was leverage. There’s a prenuptial between Edward and Muriel that locks up so much of their funds and their future, and it all hinges on me.”
I reached for him then. He didn’t resist. But he didn’t immediately relax either. No, he wrapped me up in his arms and I pressed my head to his chest, soaking in the beat of his heart as he fisted my hair.
“We don’t tell him tonight,” he said quietly. “Not while he’s in defense mode. Not while Muriel and Maddy are in offense mode.”
I whispered, digging my fingers into his back. “Then when?”
He exhaled. “When he asks.”
I blew out a breath and leaned back to look up at him. “And if he doesn’t?”
His gaze fixed on mine and something behind his eyes shifted. Something darker and fiercer filled them. “Then I will.” He rubbed his hands down my shoulders then my back.
My throat tightened at the way he looked at me.
“And you’re not moving out,” he added, softer now. “Not because of them. Not because of guilt.”
The suite felt enormous again, and yet too small.
“I don’t want to be the reason your family implodes,” I whispered.
His hands came to my face then, firm.
“You’re not,” he said. “You’re the only thing in this house that feels real.”
That broke me a little. Downstairs, a door slammed. Muted voices rose and they had to be loud for the sound to reach this far.
The war hadn’t ended.
Tory climbed higher onto the bed, tail flicking. Tabby hopped up beside her. Tiddles stared at us like we were the most dramatic creatures in the house.
Archie’s eyes flicked to the bed.
Then back to me.
A flash of something territorial crossed his expression.
“You’re not leaving,” he repeated, quieter this time.
It sounded less like an order this time and more like a plea. The mood we’d come home with earlier was gone, blown out with the storm of their fight.
“Promise me,” he whispered, those two words utterly destroying any argument I could make. “Just promise me you’ll stay. We’ll figure everything else out.”
I swallowed.
“Yes,” I said. The word felt small.
He looked at me like I’d just handed him a lifeline and a loaded weapon at the same time.
Relief moved through him. I felt it in the way his shoulders lowered half an inch. In the way his hands tightened on my face like he’d been bracing for impact and just realized we’d dodged that blow.
“Yes,” I repeated, steadier now. “I’ll stay.”
His mouth found mine before I could take another breath.
His hand slid into my hair, fisting lightly at the base of my skull as he kissed me like he needed to re-anchor himself in something solid.
Like he needed proof I was still here. That I hadn’t slipped through his fingers in the middle of the chaos we’d been born into.
The desire we’d carried home with us might have fractured. But the need? That need between us? It was intact. Pure. Raw.
His lips moved over mine with intent, slower this time, deeper and more demanding. I made a small sound and his grip tightened, pulling me flush against him.
“I’m not letting you go,” he murmured against my mouth.
I didn’t know if he meant the house.
Or this.
Or both.
I kissed him back just as fiercely. Not because I was trying to soothe him. Because I needed it too. Needed to feel chosen. Needed to feel like we weren’t just collateral damage in someone else’s war. Just needed him.
Sliding his hands down my back, he pressed me closer, holding on like he was memorizing the shape of me. Like he was making a promise with his body he hadn’t quite put into words.
And then—
His phone rang.
The sound cut through the room like a blade.
Archie went completely still.
Then he swore under his breath.
“You have got to be kidding me.”
It rang again.
He leaned his forehead against mine and let out a frustrated exhale. “We’re not going to get to use my bed tonight, are we?”
Despite everything, a soft, watery laugh escaped me.
My eyes stung a little. I didn’t even know why, but they welled anyway. I gave him a tiny shrug because this latest interruption didn’t matter. None of them mattered.
“I’m not going anywhere.”
He stilled. Then slowly, deliberately, he lifted my hand between us. “Promise?” he asked.
The word wasn’t playful or teasing. No, it showed me just how vulnerable and open to me he was and I couldn’t refuse to give him what he wanted. I wouldn’t leave. Not now.
Not wanting to try and say all of that, I just nodded and answered in one single oath. “Promise.”
He held my gaze another second, searching my face like he was cataloging the truth of it. Then he bent his head and pressed a slow kiss to my palm.
Lingering there for a moment, he warmed my skin with his breath and closed his eyes like it was a benediction. When his phone continued to ring, he let me go and stepped back enough to pull it out of his pocket.
Staring at the screen briefly, he flexed his jaw and then answered it. “Yeah?”
As braced as he seemed to be for whoever was calling, he didn’t let go of my hand and when I tangled my fingers with his he pulled me to him and I leaned into him.
“I’m here,” he said and while I knew he wasn’t saying it to me directly, I still wrapped the words around me like a hug.
Yes, he was here. So was I.
We’d figure the rest of it out.