Chapter 7 ARCHER
ARCHER
“How’s it possible that today feels like the longest day I’ve ever experienced in my entire life, but like it flew by at the speed of light, too?
” I glance across in the dark, the flash of streetlights illuminating the inside of a Malone car as we make our way toward the house on the hills.
Taking Minka’s hand in mine, I study the hard line of her jaw and the worrying abuse of her teeth on her bottom lip. “Babe?”
She lays her head back against the seat and fakes a nonchalant smile. “Hmm?”
“You’re tired, huh?”
“Exceptionally.” Inching closer, she leans into my side and rests her cheek on my shoulder.
“Tell me you worked your magic and had some of my clothes moved to the house already? I know I usually grumble about that sort of stuff, but I really don’t want to have to put this dumb dress on again in the morning. ”
“I already took care of it.” I bury my lips in her hair and inhale the scent of her shampoo… and something else. Something I can’t quite place. “What’d Soph want to talk about?”
“Something private.”
“Uh…” I frown in the darkness. The only sound surrounding us is the vibration of our tires on the road. The hum of a smooth engine. The scream of the cicadas outside. And because of her short, sharp response, I’m treated to the sound of my pulse growing in my ears. “Like…?”
“I won’t lie and say we spoke about nothing, and I don’t intend to make up a story just to get you off my back.” She hugs my arm and releases a long, heavy sigh. “If she wanted you to know, she would have told you. She didn’t, so my hands are tied.”
“But I’m your husband.” I cup her chin in my palm and loathe the pure logic in her response. If she lied, we could at least fight about it. If she evaded, I could nag. “Isn’t there a rule about secret keeping in marriage? It was in our vows.”
“I’m keeping her secret.” Elongating her neck, she puckers her lips and presses a kiss to the edge of my jaw.
“It would mean a lot to me if you didn’t pry.
I don’t want to fight with you, and I don’t want to lie.
We’ve already fought over secrets this year, because I was afraid telling the truth would hurt us.
” She lies against my shoulder again. “It backfired and hurt us a lot. I don’t want a repeat of that, especially when the lesson we learned was that we trusted each other. Explicitly. Faultlessly.”
“You’re being entirely too logical about this. How is it possible you’ve dissolved our argument before it even began, especially when it’s…” I glance at the dash in the front. “Two-thirty-five in the fuckin’ morning?”
She releases a soft, serene exhale. “Probably because I’m way too tired for anything else. I’ve given you as much information as I can, and now I’m erecting a boundary. Please don’t try to skip across it.”
“Are you in danger?”
She cuddles into my side, wrapping her arms around mine. “No.”
“Is anyone we care about in danger?”
She kisses the ball of my shoulder. “No.”
“If I ever found out whatever Soph wanted to discuss, would we be okay? Would our marriage be alright?”
She considers, sleepily snuggling closer and slow blinking as the hour drags her toward unconsciousness. For every second she hesitates, my stomach grows heavier. For every moment her silence creates doubt, my heart aches. My brain thumps. My eyes burn. My entire fucking soul quivers.
But then she nods, releasing me from my turmoil. “Yes. We would be fine.” Tilting her head back, she peeks up at me through tired eyes. “Can we drop it? I want to go to bed so friggin’ bad.”
No. Fuck no! Tell me, please, I’m begging you.
But none of that passes my lips. Instead, I rest my cheek against the top of her head. “Okay. Did you have fun today?”
She snorts. “I’ve been awake since four o’clock yesterday morning.
I almost got into a fistfight with my makeup artist, told my hairstylist to piss off, but not before she sprayed every single hair down on the top of my head.
Oh, and I choked on my own foot with the Raquel thing…
” She grows heavier against my side, her short, manicured nails stroking my wrist in the shadows.
“Sure. It was fun. I especially liked the part when I orgasmed.”
“Just doing my husbandly duties. How’s your knee?”
“Fine.” She releases a long, noisy yawn that has our driver’s eyes flickering to the rearview mirror. “I wonder how Steve is doing? This is his first night outside the hospital since his heart attack, and I wasn’t even there for it.”
“He’s in good hands. Mary is entirely capable of caring for him, and she knows how—” Tightly wound. “—worried you are. She’s been sending regular updates since they left.”
“Yeah?”
“Mmhm. Arrived at the house hours ago. He was able to shower on his own, while Mary remained nearby. He got changed into fresh clothes, allowed Mary to shave his stubble, since it had been a few days. He had a snack around ten and his medication, as per the schedule. Now he’s hooked up to some pretty cool heart monitoring technology, so if his pulse so much as stumbles even once, she—and I, and you, too, if you want—will receive an alert. ”
“Yes, please. I want the alerts.”
Of course you do.
Her eyes flicker closed as we slow by the front gates guarding the home my father once waged a war from.
I never thought I’d want to sleep here. Thought it would slam me with bad karma or some shit.
But my old man knew security and luxury, and if my options are to leave my wife susceptible to bad weather and potential threats, or bring her here, knowing she’ll be forever safe…
“Will he wear the monitor during the day, too?” she murmurs. “Or just at nighttime?”
“Uh… I’m not sure.” I study the four-story house as we wind closer, the massive double-story windows at the front, illuminated from the inside and spilling light onto the courtyard and steps.
The back, where Steve’s room is located, sits amongst the shadows.
“I think the plan was that he’d wear it at night, so Mary could rest, knowing he would be okay while she was off duty.
It wasn’t necessary during the day. But if you ask him to wear it around the clock, he might oblige. ”
“Can we insert it like a microchip in his neck?”
Surprised, I bring my attention back around, only to get caught up in her wide, glittering eyes and a beautifully sly smirk.
“We don’t even have to tell him. A little propofol to put him to sleep, a fast slice, barely five millimeters long. Slip the chip in. Probably won’t even need sutures. Just a Band-Aid.”
“Sounds like you have it all figured out.” I cup her cheek and kiss her smiling lips.
“How would you explain the Band-Aid? Or the fact that he can never walk through airport security freely again? And since we’re on the subject: where the hell are you acquiring this magical, teeny tiny little microchip? ”
“You’re asking too many questions.” She rolls her eyes, playfully pushing away with a single hand on my chest. Then she unsnaps her seatbelt as we come to a stop by the final, smaller iron gate guarding the front door.
It’s already open, and on each side, a guard stands in damn near all black, their eyes and the light spilling against their backs the only reason I see them at all.
“This is gonna take some getting used to, huh?” She doesn’t wait for our driver to get out or for a guard to open her door. Minka Mayet is the world’s most capable kept woman. “Not being able to walk home after work. Not being able to walk to the bar.”
“We can still do those things.” I scoot across the bench seat behind her, sliding out of the car on her side and taking her arm with mine.
Anything to save her from carrying all her own weight when she’s so damn tired.
I wait for her to grab the front of her dress, then I lead her toward the final, smaller gate that guards our front door.
“We could turn the apartment into a mid-stop kind of place. If we need to meet up, but we don’t want to drive up the hill.
Or if we’re completely wrecked after a case that kicked our asses, we could stumble to the apartment and get some sleep. ”
I drop my chin as we pass two more guards, then we move through the front door and into the house brimming with icy, dry air.
I walk her past the front room—the one with a giant piano, wingback chairs, and a fireplace large enough to literally step into—and, approaching the stairs, I cut right and steer her up. “Bed first.”
“I just wanted to check on Ste—”
“Bed. He’s fine. He’s alive, and he absolutely doesn’t need to be disturbed by you.
In fact.” I sweep her into my arms and swallow the squealing delight bursting from the depths of her chest. I hum gratefully as her arms instinctually wrap around my neck, and groan my appreciation when her tongue darts out to play with mine.
So delicious. All mine. “It’s tradition, isn’t it?
Something about weddings and good luck and yada yada. ”
“To carry me to bed? It wasn’t our wedding.” She rests her cheek against mine, tucking her legs in tight as we round one landing and continue up.
It’s ironic that we’d escape a four-floor walk-up apartment… for a four-story house larger than the building we left.
“Semantics, really.” I luxuriate in the feel of her body pressed to mine. The thrum of her heart and the tremble of her limbs. “Someone got married today… ish.”
She snickers. “Ish. They were technically already married, though.”
“There was a church,” I counter. “And vows, and a delicious cake. There was dancing. And family drama.”
“Did Cato get destroyed by that fighter chick?”
I laugh. “No lasting damage. There was a wedding today, Minnnka, and even if it wasn’t ours, I hate to mess with tradition and risk bad luck settling over our marriage. So I’m gonna carry you to bed. And I might even fuck you to sleep.”
Her cheeks turn a pretty, pink blush. “Yeah? What if I’m too tired to participate?”
“You only have to lie there.” I kiss the tip of her nose. “I’ll do all the work, then tomorrow, you can suck my dick in the shower and consider your debt repaid.”
She makes a clicking sound in the back of her throat. “Shucks, Detective. Wish I could, but doing so would mean being on my knees on the tile. I don’t know if you recall, but—”
“Stitches.” I nod, remembering. “Fair point. How about I do all the work tonight anyway, since I really kinda want to. And later, somewhere in the future, when your knee is all better and your energy levels are up, you can blow my mind and eat my cum. Consider tonight an act of goodwill.”
She drags her fingernails through the hair at the nape of my neck. “So now I’ll have a debt… to the mafia. I thought sensible, smart women knew better than to place themselves in such vulnerable positions?”
“Don’t consider it a debt to the family.
” I climb all the way to our floor and turn onto the landing, angling left and making my way toward the bedroom we’ve claimed.
“Consider it a debt to your husband. Smart, sensible women can still make such dealings with the men they’ve chosen to spend the rest of their lives with. It’s in the fine print.”
“Mmhm. I see.” She un-links one arm and opens our door to save me the effort of juggling.
Pushing it wide, she brings her gaze back and grins, wide and smug.
“Should we start a tally of who owes what? Because I believe I just did you a favor, Mr. Malone. In this world, favors owed are a serious thing.”
“Write it down.” I carry her across the threshold and kick the door shut behind us—lest I ask her to do it and risk another strike on our score sheet. “Am I to fuck a willing participant, Mrs. Malone? Or a starfish?”
“Preferences?”
Bristling with anticipation, I carry her to our bed and lay her on the mattress, the sheets already pulled back, and the decorative pillows set aside—almost like someone has dubbed themselves our housekeeper.
Following her down and resting on my fists on each side of her head, I drop a fast kiss onto the dimple peeking through from her cheek.
“Either is fine, so long as it’s you I’m with. ”
“Funny, since I’m the only person you’ll ever share a bed with again.” She grabs the lapels of my jacket and tugs me down. “Fuck me to sleep, Detective. I like it when I’m in the in-between state, not quite asleep, but not entirely awake, either.”
“Mm.” I slip my hand beneath the heavy fabric of her dress and walk my fingers along her silky thigh. “My pleasure. Close your eyes and settle in.” I slide my tongue along her hungry lips. “Let me take care of business.”