Archer #4
Slipping the device away, I bring my eyes back up to the woman. “You chose wrong, Mrs. Prim. More than once. Detective Banks?” I exhale a weary sigh. “You wanna take this one? Or give it to Officer Clay, since he put a lot of these pieces together himself.”
“Yeah.” He rotates slowly and studies the mirrored wall. “Officer Clay? Could you join us, please?” Then he glances back to the rest of the Prim family. “Unfortunately for us all, being an insufferable fuckin’ asshole isn’t against the law, so that means you two are actually free to leave. Tara?”
Gulping, she brings her teary eyes up again.
“We have support in place to help you gain independence from your current living arrangements.”
“Wait…” Geoffrey looks from Drake to his daughter. “What?”
“You don’t have to go home,” he continues. “Ever. If you wish to go back to collect some things, we can have uniforms escort you the whole time.”
The door slowly opens to my right, and then Officer Clay steps in with a set of cuffs already in his hands.
“You can file for legal emancipation,” Drake adds. “Though, by the time you get in front of a judge, it’s possible you’ll have aged out anyway. Instead, it might be best if you simply focus your energies on yourself and letting our resources guide you toward adulthood.”
“Rhonda Prim?” Clay steps toward the table. “You’re under arrest for the murder of Josephine Ryan. You have the right to remain silent. You have the right to an attorney. If you cannot afford an attorney, one will be provided to you.”
“You were very brave, Tara.” I move closer and extend my hand. “And a damn good friend to Josey, even when being brave is scary as hell.”
Shakily, she places her hand in mine and pushes to her feet.
“Strong, smart girls stand up for each other. They hold the weak and cowardly accountable. I’m so proud of you.
” I draw her around the table and away from her father, the perverted, abusive prick who hit on a girl his own daughter’s age.
And away from her twin brother, the cowardly sack of shit who threw her under the bus so fast, her head is still spinning.
“We have a counselor and a legal aid lawyer already here to help you.”
She trembles and studies the floor as we walk.
“Sit with them. Listen to them.” I lead her through the door and into the bullpen, where Fletch waits, ready to do that thing he does where he switches off his cop brain and turns on his dad brain.
Because all girls, whether they’re five or seventeen, are little girls worth protecting when he’s around.
“Hi Tara.” He inches forward, a kind smile on his face and a smooth sweep of his hand as he takes her from me. “My name is Detective Fletcher. I’m gonna get you set up in a room. Find you something to eat and drink. Somewhere to breathe for a sec.”
“You did good, Malone.”
I draw a deep breath and dig my hands into my pockets. Because I still wanna smash Drake’s skull open every time I hear his voice.
It’s part of my DNA now.
And yet, “You too.” I stare at Tara’s back and watch my partner lead her away. “Fletch and I have been working together a long time now, which makes it easy for him to read me when I wanna spar and rattle a suspect. I wasn’t sure you were gonna pick up what I was putting down.”
“Took me a minute.” He comes to a stop on my left and folds his arms, the ball of his shoulder brushing against mine. “I got there in the end. Enjoyed calling you a dipshit.”
I exhale a laughing scoff. “I enjoyed calling you a fuckwit.”
“Did you?” Curious, he glances across in my peripherals. “I don’t even remember.”
I shrug. “If I didn’t say it, I thought it.” I lift my chin in Fletch and Tara’s direction. “You wanna go help her? You enjoy them young, right?”
Fury flashes momentarily in his eyes. In the hard set of his jaw.
But he tilts his head to the side and stops only when a crack pops audibly in the air.
Then he repeats on the other side. Pop. “I’m gonna forgive you for that.
Because I’m mature and healed and a better basketball player than you are. ”
Stunned, I swing around and study him through fresh eyes. “Excuse you?”
His lips curl smugly. “Are you going deaf in your old age, or just stupid?”
“Better ball player, my ass! You couldn’t even beat me when I was fifteen, and you were a grown ass man three inches taller than I was.”
“That’s not how I remember it. But if you wanna rewrite history to make yourself feel good, then go right ahead. Cope however you’ve gotta cope.”
“Bitch! I—”
He throws his arms around my shoulders and hugs me.
“Dude!” I spasm and fight his grip. “What the fuck!? Get off me!”
“Just let it happen.” He exhales a noisy grunt and squeezes me extra tight. “Sink into the hug, Malone. Breathe it in.”
“Get the fuck off me!”
“Bask in my love,” he groans. I swear to fuck, I feel his exhale on my neck. “This is how we heal. This is how we move forward. Then we’ll shoot some hoops later, I’ll remind you that you ain’t shit, and then maybe things won’t hurt quite as much anymore.”