Chapter 23 #2
He scoffs. “I’m mad he didn’t care enough about Lix to share that intel in a safer way.
To save Lix from having his teeth kicked down his throat.
Or his ribs broken. Or his arm snapped over a guard’s knee, because they knew he was feeding information to someone he shouldn’t, but he was too trusting to even consider that Banks was the problem.
I’m mad Lix and Banks have been in the same room multiple times this year, but no one is saying shit about what went down when they were kids.
It’s like it never happened. And I’m mad Banks gets to flap his lips all day long about how I’m my father’s son and a good-for-nothing piece of shit, but when we cut through the noise and look at this in black and white, I’m not the one who lied.
I’m not the one who fucked the other over.
He thinks he has some kind of moral superiority because his father has medals, and mine was a fuckin’ scourge on this earth, but ya know what?
I was a fucking kid, and I was still man enough to tell the truth and call this shit out for what it was. ”
He drags my hands off his face, but he doesn’t end our connection. Rather, he pulls me closer, draws my arms over his shoulders, and contorts us into a hug that doesn’t feel quite right. So I give up on our two-stool situation and simply climb onto his lap.
He wraps his arms around my torso and exhales a grunt of pleasure and pain.
“I had no clue hugs could heal until I met you.” He buries his face against the side of my neck, breathing heavily enough to warm my skin.
“I needed them last week most of all, so now that I have you back, I intend to make up for what we missed. This is how you redistribute everything else and make it easier to carry.”
“Have you considered sitting down and having a real conversation with Detective Banks?”
He coughs out a dismissive laugh. “Funny.”
“I’m actually being serious.” I tilt back and study his face.
“I know being under eighteen makes you a child, and over eighteen makes you an adult. I know we can look back to when Detective Banks was inside your home and easily determine where each of you stood. But there’s no magical switch inside our brains that flicks over on our birthday, Archer.
Yes, he was an adult, and yes, you were a kid, but he was also groomed from childhood to grab a badge and become his father’s protégée.
He was pushed into a role that the adult Drake Banks has proven he doesn’t want, and even if he was older than you back then, he wasn’t that old. ”
“You’re standing up for him?” Instead of anger, Archer gives me pain. He gives me vulnerability. “I don’t make a habit of spilling my guts, Minnnka. But the one time I do, you’re taking the other guy’s side?”
“I’m not taking his side.” I frame his face and search his eyes. “It’s entirely possible he’s not proud of the things that happened back then, but he was young and following orders. Now he’s grown, and maybe he feels rejected by your open hostility.”
“He deserves to be rejected! He’s a fuckin’ traitor and a coward.”
“And I imagine he’s been sitting with those emotions for half of his life.
Maybe he felt justified back then, because it was the job and he thought he was only screwing over the bad guys, but now he’s forced to look you in the eyes every single time he comes on shift and acknowledge the means may not have been worth the end.
He has to take accountability for his part in hurting good people, and maybe he wants to make it right, but it’s really hard to swallow that kind of crow when the guy you wanna patch things up with won’t listen. ”
“I don’t owe him a chance to speak, Mayet. Fuck! I don’t owe him shit.”
“No.” I press a kiss to his lips. “You don’t.
” Another kiss. “But you owe you that chance.” A third kiss.
Then I pull back and take his hands. “When someone we expect to hurt us hurts us, we take our licks and move on. It’s easy, because we saw it coming all along.
But when a friend hurts us, it stings. When a badge hurts us, we feel betrayed, because those are the people who swore to protect us.
Your father was always the villain in your world, so when he fulfilled his prophecy, you and your brothers shrugged it off and continued to live your lives.
But you not only considered Detective Banks a friend, but I also bet you considered him someone you sat with in the trenches.
An ally. And if I know you the way I figure I do, then you probably considered him someone you should protect.
Even though he was older,” I clarify. “Even though he was bigger. Tim was your father, he was your problem, and Drake was just a guest inside your home.”
“I—”
“Kinda like how you protect me every single time we visit that house.” I trail my fingertips along the sides of his wrists and peek up at him from beneath my lashes.
“Drake not being who you thought he was has scarred you, Archer. But him lashing out now?” I bring his hands up to my lips.
“It’s like he’s reopening those old wounds and pouring salt in for maximum pain. ”
“All the more reason to fuck him up,” he grumbles. “Talking is the last thing I wanna do.”
“It’s usually the last thing I want to do, too.
” I press a kiss to his knuckles, a quiet snicker bubbling along my throat.
“But I seem to recall this super mature decision we made recently about talking our problems through, rather than letting them fester. I’m not saying you owe him a conversation, and I’m not saying your anger isn’t valid.
” I lower our hands and stretch taller instead.
“I’m saying you deserve not to carry this pain anymore.
And although I’m not taking Drake’s side—”
His eyes narrow.
“I am saying he was a kid back then, too, and last I heard, he left the DEA because he didn’t agree with a lot of the crap he was expected to do while carrying that badge.
Besides, Rory is honestly so fricken sweet, I can’t see a world where someone like her would love a guy who didn’t deserve it.
” I wrap my hands around the sides of his neck and know we’re running out of time.
Pulling myself up, I breathe a sigh of pleasure as his palms grip my hips and his lips latch onto mine.
He kisses me with more energy than when we started.
His fingers hold me with more fervor. His eyes seem just a little lighter.
And that’s enough. For now. “It’d be kinda fun to put Drake and Felix in a boxing ring, don’t you think?
Take their shirts off, ya know, for flexibility and whatnot. ”
He jerks back and studies me through slitted eyes. “Excuse me?”
“To work through their beef. It would be a sweaty event, so for their own comfort, taking their shirts away would be best.”
“Minka!”
“What? You want to see Felix call this mess out, and I want to see Felix shirtless.” I spasm and jump as his grip grows tighter. “I mean, I want to see him happy! Healed. Better.”
“You don’t get to see my brother like that!” He crushes me against his chest and latches his teeth onto my neck.
A loud squeal tears along my throat, loud enough that anyone outside this room would probably hear us.
“The fuck is wrong with you?” He drags the collar of my blouse to the side and suckles on the soft skin covering my clavicle. “These new wonder drugs are making you reckless, Mayet. That thing with Agosti ain’t shit compared to you checking out my brother.”
“That’s worse?”
“So much worse!” He snarls. But I swear, his chest bounces too. His gloomy mood steps aside and makes way for just a little happiness to creep in. “You’re forbidden from ever speaking to my brothers again.”
“Ever?”
“Ever!”
“Oh thank God. Finally.” I slide my fingers through his hair and tug his head back.
Then I look into his eyes and sink deeper into the man he is.
“I’ll block them all on my phone just as soon as we’re done in here.
If Felix takes issue with this new development, I’m certain you can handle those communications on my behalf.
Now come on.” I climb backward off his lap, stumbling to my own feet and resting my hands on his shoulders for balance.
Then I twine our fingers and pull him off his stool, too.
“You’ve got work to do, and I’ve gotta stand still for a photo.
Then I guess I have to listen to Preston drone on about computers and tech wizards and other super annoying bailiwick words. ”
“Bailiwick?” He follows me toward the door, dragging his feet for every step we take. “What the fuck is bailiwick?”
“An annoying word, obviously. Catch up, Detective.”