Of course. He won’t say a word against Killian.
I step to the left and Archer mirrors it, as well as my step to the right. The longer I’m stuck here, the more my mind fills with the image of Samuel all alone in a cold apartment, hungry and abandoned not knowing his mother can’t come home to him.
“Archer!” I snap, slamming the door behind me and crossing my arms firmly over my chest. “I’m leaving and unless you plan onphysicallypicking me up and carrying me back inside, you’ll just have to come with me. Your orders are to keep me safe, right? And to do that you’ll have to follow where I go!”
My voice maintains a strength that doesn’t exist in my chest as my heart flutters wildly and my stomach churns. I half expect Archer to do just that but I’m hoping the threat of Killian’s reaction to someone touching me will be enough to deter that course of action.
Archer wavers, his smile faltering slightly.
“So either get out of my way, or you can drive,” I continue, pushing a little further and holding up the car keys. It takes every ounce of my resolve to stop my hand from trembling.
A beat of silence passes between us before Archer snatches the keys from my hand.
“Killian’s going to kill me either way,” he grumbles, turning on his heel and striding towards my car.
Oh, thank God.
Without his eyes on me, I shrink a little and the tremble finally escapes its cage. It darts around my body causing my next couple of steps to be wobbly and uncertain. Archer’s a sweet guy and later I’m sure I’ll feel like a dick for yelling at him.
Now’s not that time though.
“So where am I taking you?” Archer asks as he opens the car door for me. I reel off the address as I slip inside and settle as confidently as I can into the seat. Archer closes the door, slides into the driver’s seat, and starts the car.
“And what’s there that’s so important?” he asks, his narrowed gaze catching mine in the rearview mirror.
“Something important,” I repeat with a slightly mocking tone.
Poor Archer, he doesn’t deserve to take the brunt of this.
The car pulls into motion and I settle back into the seat, closing my eyes. In my rush to get out of the house and on the road to save Samuel, I hadn’t given much thought to my concerns that Blair is a liar and Kilian’s son is mostly unconfirmed.
Blair’s home will give me that answer, either way.
As we drive through the city, my left hand absently settles over my abdomen and in a few moments of peace, I wonder how far along I am. Killian’s reaction to my pregnancy was even better than I’d fantasized and his actions this morning had soothed so many quiet doubts about whether or not I’d done the right thing by telling him.
The thought of the random banana pops into my mind and amusement pulls at the corner of my lips as I turn my gaze out the window and watch the early afternoon city whizz by. So many people are completely oblivious to whose net they’re really living in. They’d all have read the news this morning, I’d imagine, and they’ll go on to believe whatever story Sienna leaks to the papers if it was a targeted attack.
Gas leak. Broken fuel line. Any tale she wishes to spin.
I want to be that good.
By the time we pull up to Blair’s apartment building, my heart is pounding so fast that iron coats the back of my tongue and I can no longer keep the tremor out of my fingertips as I climb out of the car.
“Who lives here?” Archer asks, stepping up beside me and pulling on a pair of black leather gloves against the cold that nips around any exposed skin we have.
“Blair,” I answer finally and Archer’s head snaps to me.
“TheBlair,” he asks and I nod just once before striding forward and up the stone steps to the smart cream-colored building. The glass doors hiss open the moment I step close enough to the sensors but to my surprise, there’s no doorman to greet us.
“Is that strange?” I ask quietly and Archer offers a half-shrug.
“A lot of these buildings are automated these days. Fingerprint recognition on the elevators, that kind of thing.” He steps in front of me regardless and approaches the desk, peeking over the edge before he turns back to me.
“We should take the stairs.”
“No fingerprint scanners on the banisters?” I joke and Archer snorts his amusement. We head for the stairwell and Archer pushes open the door, guiding me through with a wave of his hand.
Oh. Those gloves aren’t for warmth.