Page 133 of Diamond In The Rough

Archer’s nose twists, though of course, he has a badge, too. I think he walks a tightrope through life, balancing between being a Malone, but also a cop. And most often, I think when he identifies with one, he forgets he’s the other.

In Copeland City, where he and Mayet live and work, he’s a homicide detective. That’s his life, and it’s a calling he dedicates himself to. But here in New York, he’s a Malone, and fuck, that’s a hard persona to shed.

“Well…” he spares a short glance for Roscoe before bringing his eyes back to Tiia. “That’s fuckin’ gross.”

“She’s a Fed, too.” I chuckle. “I fell into a fuckin’ cesspit I wasn’t ready for.”

“It’s alright.” Minka snaps the folder closed and sets it back in place. “Felix fell in love with a professional snitch. Tim loves a dorky hippie. Cato hit on his own aunt. And Archer loves me.” She stops and grins. “No one around here made good choices. You were never taught how to love responsibly.”

“Where is Felix?” I skip over her words, her jabs, and Archer’s scowl because he wants so desperately to defend who they are, and I focus instead on the brother whose life is currently, constantly, under threat. He has Stovic with him. And others. He’s as safe as he can be under the circumstances. But that doesn’t make it easier for me to ignore the fact I’ve abandoned him for Tiia.

For today, at least, until she wakes, I’ve deserted him.

“He’s here,” she answers. “Downstairs. Cato and Tim, too.”

Surprised, I look up. “Tim is here?”

“Yeah. The family has assembled.” Subtly, but oh so sweetly, her lips curl into a small smile. “It’s our new shtick, I think. Tiia was hurt, so here we are.”

“You’re a doctor, right?” Roscoe’s voice is hard and not particularly kind. Which draws not only Minka’s attention, but Archer’s, too. He holds her close and places himself between his wife and the man who speaks without the adoration he demands of us all.

Then he grinds out, “I’m not sure we’re gonna associate with you, Hale. Your literal job is to fuck my family up. She gets a free pass,” he nods toward Tiia, “because Micah says so. But no one here vouches for you.”

“My job, first and foremost, is to protect my family.” His eyes swing across and meet mine. “Something we can all agree on. A point of commonality, even.” Then he peers back at Archer. “That means I’m gonna keep watching your family. In fact, I’m gonna watch harder now than I ever have in the past. But it no longer has anything to do with my shield or orders, and everything to do with my little sister. I don’t much care if you like me, Detective. But I will ensure her safety, and if she wakes up and decides she wants to stay with him,” he nods my way, “then I’ll be nearby for the rest of your criminal fucking lives, hupo.”

Finally, he drags his attention to Minka. “You’re married to the mob, and I’ve spent my entire career watching them. That means I know your name, and I know you went to medical school.”

“I’m a doctor.” She smirks. “Typically, I specialize in the dead. But my expensive education assures us all that,” she pauses, until the beep-beep-beeps of Tiia’s machines drown everything else out, “she’s alive and kicking.”

Roscoe rolls his eyes, though it’s a small gesture. Almost discreet enough not to be noticed by Archer. “What can you tell me that the other doctors haven’t? What’s hidden in the medical speak?”

“GSW to the abdomen. Lucky miss. Received medical care quickly enough, further damage was avoided and Ms. Hale is not likely to die from sepsis. Surgery to remove the foreign materials and to repair the damage to her body. She required blood transfusions while she was under. But…” She folds her arms and just… shrugs. “She’s okay. She’s gonna be fine.”

“But she’s still unconscious.” I brush the tip of my finger along the bridge of her nose. “It’s been a while.”

“Medically speaking…” Minka sniggers. “That’s called sleep. I assure you, getting shot and having a major operation isn’t something you want to wake up from too quickly. It’ll hurt like a bitch once she’s conscious.” Turning deadly serious, she swings her gaze to Roscoe. “You asked me medical questions because of my job. So now I get to ask you things about Wilkes because of yours.”

He drags his focus away from my stroking hand. “Wilkes?”

“I heard he’s transporting girls across the border. Minors.”

“Trying.” He rests his elbows on the bed, exhaustion forcing him to slump. “His trucks have been intercepted.”

“But for the ones intercepted, there’ll be more no one ever saw, right?”

He considers for a beat, then gives a small shrug. “Yep.”

“How many?”

“How many trucks?”

“How many girls?”

He pulls his bottom lip between his teeth and chews, just like Tiia does when she’s not keen on answering a question. A tell, I now know, gives them away. “Twenty-five-ish per load. We’ve intercepted three trucks in the past month, but we suspect he’s putting at least one across the border every two days.”

Minka’s eyes fire with a rage she keeps quietly tamped down. Lava that moves in silence. But it burns hot, all the same. “For how long?”

“Few months, at least. Took him a while to get settled in New York. Longer still to build his infrastructure, buy trucks and men to drive them. Then to set up his network that would lure women into his world.”

---