“No. I don’t want to wait that long.”
“What are you going to—?”
“I don’t know,” he says, frustration radiating from him. “And I could take you over my knee and beat your ass for not fucking telling me everything you knew in the first place, Stasia.”
“Archer, I seriously thought you knew.”
He shakes his head, grabs his keys, and heads for the door. Without another word, he leaves, starts his truck, and speeds away, leaving me feeling horrible.
Kane and Murphy come downstairs to find me crying quietly on the couch.
“What’s all this?” Kane asks, gathering me gently to him. “What happened?”
“Archer’s so mad at me.” I sniffle, trying to tame the tears. I’m not usually a crier, even when I’m alone. Shedding tears in front of someone else is a no-go for me. “And I don’t blame him. I would be, too, if the situation were reversed.”
“What’s it all about, then?”
I take a deep, cleansing breath and start from the beginning. “Archer had a girlfriend in high school. Elena. She was a good friend of mine, and as soon as Archer met her, he fell hard and fast.”
“I know that feeling.”
I take Kane’s hand in mine and link our fingers. “Right after we graduated, Archer took Elena to Idaho where there’s no waiting period for a marriage license, and they eloped. They were young and in love, and I guess they felt invincible.”
“As one does at that age.”
I nod in agreement. “Well, little more than a week later, Elena suddenly broke it off. Told him she made a mistake and had the marriage annulled.”
“Well, she was young, darling. Maybe she really felt that she had made a mistake.”
I shake my head. “I met with her shortly after, for lunch. She told me that her father threatened to make sure Archer was k-k-killed if she didn’t break it off.”
I sniff again, and Kane gives me a tissue.
“Her family has mob connections, and her father was arrested a few years later. But Elena told me that Archer knew about the threats. She lied, Kane. Archer didn’t know anything until about fifteen minutes ago, and he’s so mad at me now.”
“What brought this all up?”
“Elena contacts me a few times a year to ask how Archer’s doing. It’s short and sweet, but her way of checking in. And then I won’t hear from her again for months. That night that you and Archer were at my apartment, she texted. And when you left the room to take a call, I asked Archer about her. He said he’s been thinking about her since then.
“I fucked up. I didn’t mean to withhold information. I didn’t know I was.”
“You were a child yourself,” Kane says in a gentle voice. “Anastasia, you were young, and your brother was hurting. You didn’t willfully withhold the information. It’s not a bad sister or bad friend that you are. And Archer knows that.”
“He’s mad at me. He stormed out of here, and I hate it when he’s mad. He’s always so fun-loving and easygoing. I can’t stand the thought of him being angry.”
“He won’t be for long.”
“I should go find him.”
“He’s halfway to Seattle by now.” Kane tucks my hair behind my ear. “Give him time to cool off, and then talk with him. Call him in the morning.”
“You’re right. He does need to calm down.”
“I’ve been right quite a bit today,” he says with a smug smile.
“Don’t let it go to your head.”Chapter Twelve~Kane~I’ve just climbed into bed, next to a sleeping Anastasia, when her phone rings.
I reach over her and snatch it up, not wanting it to wake her. It was a long evening of talking, some tears on her part, and worry as well before she finally fell asleep.
I frown at Archer’s name on the screen and then answer. “Hello?”
“Kane!” It’s my brother Shawn, yelling over the noise of the pub.
“Why are you calling from Archer’s phone?” I ask as I turn and sit on the edge of the bed, away from Anastasia.
“I swiped it from him, and Anastasia was the first person I thought to call. He’s in a bad way, is Archer. He shouldn’t be driving home.”
I sigh and resign myself to fetching Archer myself. “I’ll come get him. He can sleep it off here.”
“The sooner, the better. He’s trying to sing, and it’s losing us customers.”
“I’m on my way.”
I hang up and am not surprised to see Anastasia watching me when I turn around.
“What’s wrong?” she asks.
“Your brother. He’s fine, but he’s sloshed as can be at the pub. I’ll go fetch him and bring him back here.”
“I’ll come with you.”
“You don’t have to, darling. I’m fine going to get him myself.”
“He’s drunk because he’s pissed at me,” she says, standing from the bed. “I’d rather help.”
I don’t argue. She’s awake anyway, she may as well ride along, or she’ll just sit here and stew about it.