Chapter 3 #2
Dubbing mine John Doe Hamilton. JDH for short. His name is easy, since he’s already lived with an alias for years. Bree, you wanna name yours? Or shall we go with Taco Bell and call it a day?
I choke out a noisy snort and pray the sound doesn’t wake Archer.
Bree
I’m good with Taco Bell, but only if we add ‘the third’ to the end. It’s distinguished and fancy.
Ace
Taco Bell the Third it is. And the fifth member of our coalition? Suggestions?
Chief
Happy Meal.
Michelle
Happy Meal.
Bree
Happy Meal.
Ace
Locking it in. See, this was easy! We’re doing great. Also, Chief? All your gear is scheduled to arrive at my office today. My team has flagged the delivery already. They’ll test and tag it as soon as it arrives, then we’re flying across to the West Coast for installation.
Chief
Nice! So I’ll expect you next week sometime?
Ace
Expect us tomorrow.
Stunned, I lower my phone and feel, for a single heart-pumping moment, nerves flipping my stomach inside out.
Chief
You’ll be in my building… tomorrow? As in, the day after today?
Ace
That’s typically how calendars work, bro. This should be a three-day install. I’m bringing my husband and girls, since I’ve spent too long away from them already, and this isn’t a dangerous mission.
Chief
YOU CAN’T HAVE CHILDREN INSIDE THE MORGUE, ACE! What the hell is wrong with you?
Ace
You’re exceptionally dramatic, ya know that?
I’ll bring a nanny, so they’re taken care of while I’m working.
When I’m not, I wanna be with them. I’m not spending a single second away that I don’t have to.
I’m bringing a tech guy, too, since he’s set to spearhead your new system.
He’s the guy you’ll call if you screw things up.
He’s bringing his daughter too, because it’s summer break and I already have the nanny situation handled. Three days, then I want payment.
Bree
What’s the payment?
Ace
If you don’t know, then you’re not as all-powerful with your brain foo foo as you think you are.
Ace
Ha! You don’t know! Which means I’ve caught you out for the faker you are.
Bree
And I repeat: calm down, lady. I just wanted you to say it. I’m leaving this group chat now. Taco Bell the Third is stirring, and I kinda want shower nookie before I have to face the real world.
Bree
Ciao.
Chief
Yeah, I’m out, too. I need a shower, and I’m standing here kinda naked. It feels weird. Bree, tell Taco Bell the Third to wait for us. I have something I need to do in the city this morning, then we can fly home together. Plane-pooling is good for the environment.
Michelle
Wait, before you go… Bree?
Bree
Yuh?
Michelle
Am I having a girl? It’s a girl, right? She’s a girl?
Michelle
I changed my mind. I want to know.
Bree
No comment.
Michelle
TELL ME NOW, DAMMIT!
Shaking my head, I lock my phone and set it face down on the rich stone countertop, then I step into the massive shower and flip on the taps.
I don’t bother waiting for the water to turn warm, because I’m sticky with sweat, and it’s not all that cool in here anyway.
Add in my thirst, and I stroll under the spray, tip my head back, open my mouth, and drink like my life depends on it.
My phone continues to buzz on the counter, noisy enough to echo throughout the bathroom, but I don’t care about the board of directors crap Cordoza wants from us.
I don’t give a damn about being silent partners or chit-chatting with McDonald’s employees.
I don’t even care about the brand-new, six-figure tech system my building will enjoy after this week.
I just care about the tepid water splashing against my face, the soaked ends of my hair tickling my back, and the reality that my husband is in the next room.
Better yet, I can go to him and not fear rejection. I can slide into bed and not feel like anxiety will make me puke.
“Minnnnka.”
I startle and jump, but then Archer crashes against my back and shoves me forward until I hit the tile wall. His hand claps across my mouth, then his teeth latch onto my shoulder, just painful enough to make me whimper.
“I love seeing you like this.” He reaches around with his free hand and slips thick fingers deep inside my pussy, but he doesn’t allow me even a moment to adapt.
To adjust. To catch my breath. Because he follows his fingers with his cock, pinning me to the wall and riding my body with a single-track determination that leaves me powerless to do anything except submit.
“Mine,” he growls in my ear, hammering forward and filling me to the brim. “For-fucking-ever.”
We don’t escape our room until mid-morning, long after the scents of breakfast fade away and the clatter of dishes stops, but considering ten in New York is still only seven in Copeland, I can’t find even a scrap of remorse for taking our time, especially as we wander down the steps, Archer’s hand wrapped around mine, and a smug grin teasing his lips that way I love so much.
When he’s happy, I’m happy.
“You ready to go home and pretend this entire half of the country doesn’t exist?
” He swings his arm over my shoulders, our fingers still linked, so my arm crosses my chest. “Or we could go to Jamaica.” He buries his lips in my hair.
“Pretending these people don’t exist is non-negotiable, though. I’m sick of them.”
Cato skids across the shiny tile floor at the bottom of the stairs, no shirt covering his muscular chest, basketball shorts that go all the way to his knees, and a pair of white tube socks to make sliding that much easier.
But most surprising of all is the chubby baby curled against his biceps.
“I heard what you said about forgetting these fuckers exist, and since I live in Copeland too, I know you’re talking about them and not me.
But ZoZo should be an exception to the rule.
” His handsome expression turns goofy, his lips puckered forward as he babbles and tickles Zora’s triple chins.
“She’s so puuuuurty and fat. She’s Malone and Cannon, and I’m Malone and Cannon, which basically makes us double related, so she’s extra special and super cute. ”
“We’re not stealing Lix’s baby.” Archer brings me to the bottom of the stairs, then around the youngest Malone brother and continues along the hall. “And what about Mia, huh? I thought she was your favorite girl?”
“Uncle Cato has two arms, ZoZo. And he’s strong enough to carry both of his girls.
” He makes baby sounds in the back of his throat and follows us toward the kitchen.
“Uncle Cato already misses his Moo, so he’s excited to fly home and see her.
He has a gift for her, too! But he wishes he could bring you with him. ”
“Is there a reason we talk in the third person to babies?” I tilt my head to the side and study Archer’s strong, stubbled jaw, but then he brings us into the kitchen, and my thoughts on the basic use of the English language flitter away under the pressure of half a dozen warm stares.
Gulping, I stop on Aubree’s playful grin, her round butt perched confidently on Tim’s lap.
Taco Bell the Third.
Then I look to Micah and Tiia, codenames pending, and finally, to our Happy Meal and his beloved, Christabelle.
“What?” I scan the island counter as though expecting to find Mary doing her thing like she always does, but then I remember she’s not Felix’s at the moment.
She’s ours, and she’s holed up behind the counter inside our house in Copeland, at least until Steve has recovered from his heart attack.
Unraveling myself from Archer’s octopus-like grip, I cross the kitchen and search the cupboards until I find a stack of mugs.
Taking two out, I grab the coffeepot and pour. “Why is everyone staring at me?”
“Because we agreed to a meeting this morning,” Felix grunts. “Because the whole fuckin’ world kinda imploded last night, but you were too tired to discuss it. So…”
“So…” I shrug and set the pot back where it belongs.
“Cordoza dropped a bomb in our laps, but the world isn’t ending.
And besides, I doubt there’s anything I can contribute to this conversation that the rest of you haven’t already.
” I pick up my mug, sans creamer or milk, and swallow three heaped mouthfuls like they’re shots of Red Bull.
I nod toward Aubree. “She was there for the plane meeting, the dinner meeting, and she has a wiretap straight into the old man’s brain. Ask her.”
“We already asked her!” Felix barks. Pre-coffee. Too loud. “Jesus, Mayet. He’s dying!? And he’s lining up his successors like this is a fuckin’ dictatorship.”
“Kinda is.” I hold the mug by my nose and inhale until I feel it in my lungs. Deep. Deeper. As deep as I can get it. Then I exhale again, glance toward an uncertain Archer, and nudge the second mug just an inch across the counter in invitation.
That’s all it takes. That’s all he needs. Because he breaks away from the exact spot I disconnected us, circles the stone counter, and snags his coffee.
And me. He grabs me most possessively of all, wrapping a single arm across my back and anchoring his hand against my hip.
“Either Cordoza puts a plan in place before his death, or he simply taps out and leaves the city scrambling.” I shrug.
“If it scrambles, every douchebag with entrepreneurial aspirations will try to claim they’re the new top dog, and even if that douchebag lacks the infrastructure needed to run the networks currently in place, he’ll still try, which means people will die.
Personally, I vote the entire Malone family change their names to John and Jane Smith, walk away with the money in their bank accounts, live happy, fat lives somewhere far from here, and leave the scrambling to the douchebags.
” I set my coffee on the counter and smile. “It makes perfect sense to me.”