Chapter 11 ARCHER
ARCHER
Adrenaline is like flames in my veins, burning me up and turning each individual minute into an eternity.
Which isn’t the worst thing in the world, really, when I so rarely get a day to sit around with my family and listen to the splashing chaos of a teen cannonballing into our pool.
Or Doctor Raquel’s friendly conversation as she reclines on sun loungers beside Christabelle and Tiia.
It’s possible she has no clue she’s sitting with New York’s Darling, or the risk she runs being so near Tiia. But she’s extroverted enough that no one seems to care about the finer details.
Felix monopolizes Zora’s every moment, chattering with her when she’s awake, and curling her into his chest when she’s not.
When she squawks from hunger, he hands her off to her mother, but the second they’re done, he takes her again.
His obsession with getting this right, with perfecting fatherhood, is enough to prove any man, no matter where he came from or what he escaped, can be good for the people he loves.
Means Timothy Malone the Second didn’t even fucking try.
“Weeee’re heeeeere!” Mia bursts through the back door in an adorable two-piece, ruffle-bottom, pink-polka-dot bathing suit, with a towel slung over one shoulder, and heart-shaped sunglasses covering what I know are honeycomb-colored eyes.
She glances left and right, scanning the pockets of people and conversation, and smiles when she finds me at the table.
But then she looks to the pool and locks eyes with her favorite.
“Cato!”
“McStinkerson!”
Mia yeets her towel and sunglasses, forcing Fletch to stumble forward before they hit the ground, then she drops her shoulders and dashes straight toward the pool, flip-flops flying left and right and soft brown hair bouncing behind her. “Catch me!”
Eliza who? Cato shoves away from the edge of the pool, splashing the young fighter as he goes. “I’m gonna catch you, baby girl.”
“I can’t swim,” she hollers, scrunching her eyes and leaping with a squeal. “Ahhhhh!”
“She can’t swim!” Fletch rushes to the edge behind her.
Cato catches and dunks her under anyway, his hands wrapped securely around her ribs and his eyes slamming shut when water splashes up and soaks his face.
“Dude! Inhaling water is bad!”
“I got you, McStinkerson.” Cato brings her up, her wriggling body soaring five feet above the surface of the water. Her little legs kick out, her hair plastered to her face. But her giggles peel and bubble, settling over our group. “You ready to go under again?”
“Yes!” She smacks the top of his head, his dark hair hugging his scalp like a helmet. “I’m ready.”
“It’s so odd how little attention he pays to Eliza now that he’s got his McStinkerson,” Minka snickers, her thumb stroking a consistent pattern against my chest. “He’s all about ass until he’s Uncle Cato, then it’s gone.”
“Probably means he’s gonna be a fantastic fuckin’ dad.” Felix proudly settles into the chair beside mine, his eyes latched onto Zora asleep in the cradle of his arms. “Ass matters, after all. But not nearly as much as this.”
“Never thought I’d see the day,” Micah chuckles, scraping the label off a water bottle while his eyes remain locked on the women outside the pool. “Thought I was doomed to deal with his bullshit for the rest of my life. Seems there’s an antidote.”
“Archer.” Fletch wanders this way, juggling a pool bag, Mia’s towel, and scooping up her flip-flops as he arrives at each one. He taps my fist as he passes, dipping his chin for the others seated around the table. “Thanks for having us. It’s hot as hell out here today.”
“No problem.” I wait for him to put his shit down and select a seat before I nod toward our extra. “I don’t know if you’ve met, but Fletch, meet Roscoe. Roscoe, Fletch.”
“Yeah.” Fletch sits, gripping the arms of his chair and pulling it in. “We crossed paths at the wedding last night. Tiia’s brother, right? How’s it going?”
“All good.” Roscoe’s a quiet guy, not quite sure what to do with himself when he’s sitting around with the kind of folks his boss would have him arrest any other day. He swallows, the bob of his Adam’s apple telegraphing his nerves. “Your kid’s a cutie. Out-danced almost everyone last night.”
Fletch scoffs, shaking his head from side to side.
“And then she woke up this morning, happy as a clam and begging to swing by the house. I tried to distract her for as long as I could. Figured you’d want to sleep in.
Cato!” He glowers at my brother… dangling Mia upside down and dunking the top of her head. “Dude!”
“She’s fine.” Cato holds her hips and swishes her hair through the water. “You’re fine, aren’t you, McStinkerson?”
“I’m fine, Daddy!” She kicks her feet into the air. “I don’t even have water in my nose.”
“She’s fine.” Minka turns on my lap, curling against my chest until we practically fucking melt together.
We’re both sweating, and God knows it would be cooler if she sat on her own.
But for as long as my hand remains on her thigh, holding her down, she stays put and strokes my arm.
“Why can’t she swim yet, Detective Fletcher?
She’s old enough to have had lessons by now. ”
“Sorry, Chief Know-It-All.” He snags an empty glass and fills it with icy cold lemon water.
“The last half-decade has been a little chaotic for me. We didn’t have a pool, never visited the pool, and my life was in shambles, so this was one of those things that fell to the wayside.
” He pours noisy chunks of ice that clink against the side of his glass. “It’s on my to-do list, I promise.”
“Kinda has to be now that we’re here for the summer. She’ll want to visit, and not knowing is dangerous.”
“Only the summer?” He swings his gaze up, then over to me. “I thought you were—”
I slam my foot against his under the table, then I flash an adoring smile and distract a curious Minka with a kiss on her lips.
“Smooth,” Felix chuckles. “Did you see my kid, Fletch? Isn’t she the prettiest little baby anyone ever did see?”
“I’m partial to mine.” He settles back again, sipping his water and rubbing his leg. “But besides Mia, I kinda have to agree. Prettiest little thing ever. The fact that you have a daughter now brings me hope. Maybe you’ll see the error of your ways.” He shrugs. “Eventually.”
Roscoe’s eyes widen. Fuck knows, they brighten, too. “What’d he do?”
“Nothi—”
“Kidnap. Pretty sure there was a deadly weapon involved.”
“She was fine!” Felix huffs. “She was visiting with Uncle Lix, all so I could meet Auntie Minka. She was safe the whole time. I always have a reason for my madness.”
“Yeah. Usually, it’s your disrespect for the law and other people,” Fletch grumbles. “Kidnapping is a serious crime, douchebag. You terrified my daughter.”
Felix gestures toward the pool. “And now I’m her favorite person on the planet.”
“Looks like Cato is her favorite,” Roscoe counters.
“I’m her favorite,” Fletch growls. “Cato hits second best.”
“What the hell am I?” I snarl. “I’m the only motherfucker at this table besides her father, who has been around since the day she came home from the hospital. I was there for her first steps. Her first words. Her first everything.”
“You lost her to Cato.” Minka tilts her head back and drops a kiss on the underside of my jaw. “I hate to say I told you so, Detective, but I recall suggesting you kick his ass to the street a year ago.”
“I can hear you people.” Cato throws Mia into the air just as easily as he tosses a basketball, clearing six feet between his hands and her flailing body.
Then he catches her again and dunks her under the water.
Bringing her above the surface and setting her on his hip, he wipes the heavy curtains of hair off her face and meets her smiling eyes. “You good, McStinkerson?”
She nods.
“You want more?”
She nods again.
“They were saying mean things about me, McStinkerson. They said they were gonna kick me out and make me live on the street.”
Inflamed, Mia’s fiery eyes swing our way.
In response, Felix drops his focus, Micah goes back to playing with the bottle label, I spin around, and Fletch drinks his lemon water.
“You can live with me, Cato.” The sound of a noisy, smoochy kiss echoes across the yard and taps at the back of my skull. “Auntie Minka is super nice anyway, so she won’t let them kick you out. But if you don’t wanna live wif them anymore, you can live wif me and Daddy.”
“Guess you got a new housemate, Detective Fletcher.” Minka melts into my lap, laying her head against my shoulder. “Works out perfectly for me, actually.”
“What’s going on?”
Too intuitive, too smart, when Minka excuses herself to go inside the house, and I push up from my chair, wandering onto the grass, Fletch follows, his shoulders tight and his jaw gritted.
Because maybe I’ve kept my mouth shut, but he’s my partner.
He’s my best friend.
Fuck, he’s a detective. A damn good one at that.
“Archer?” He grabs my arm and yanks me around to face him.
“I was generous, not calling you out while we had an audience. But I’m not stupid, man.
” He steps in my way and blocks my view of a lush rose bush—not like I give a shit about the blood-red blossoms. “Mayet hasn’t stopped touching you, even when I know she feels weird about sitting on your lap in front of guests.
Felix has got this plasticky fakeness going on, Micah’s gonna pop a vein if he doesn’t release a little steam soon, and Cato’s nervous.
He’s never nervous. Spit it out before I lose my fuckin’ mind. ”