Page 13 of Archer
“Are you sure? Because it sure seems like it.”
“What are you talking ab—”
“What am I talking about?” I pointed to my chest. “I’m talking about the fact that you basically forced me to hide away in your house like some sort of… of…sex-slave.”
“What? Sex slave?” He looked appalled, stammering for words. “No… just no.”
“Why should I believe you?” I asked. “You’re one of them. My dad hasn’t told me much, but I picked up on enough to figure out this all has something to do with some motorcycle club—”
“No, Rose. You don’t understand,” he said, holding his hands to the sides of his head, eyes round with frustration. “We’re completely different clubs. Rivals, actually.”
“Oh, great.” I threw my hands in the air and tossed back my head. “I’m protected by the rival criminal gang. I feelsosafe.”
“Listen,” he said with his voice growing louder. “I’ve been nothing but nice to you since I met you.”
“Yeah,” she said. “So, so nice as you ogle and harass me while I’m working, throwing money at me like I can be bought. Do you really think those moves would work on me?”
“Okay, now you’re just being rude.”
“Did you think that the solution to winning me over was locking me in your house?” I said. “Didn’t you get the hint the first hundred times I rejected you? I’m not interested in you.”
“Fuck, all right, I get—”
“No, you don’t,” I said, darting my left pointer finger in his direction to accentuate my words. “You’re too arrogant to get anything. Did you really think I’d go out with some sleazy gang member? I have standards.”
He parted his lips to shoot off another retort but closed his mouth before anything came out. A wounded look showed in his eyes and his shoulders slumped. Without another word, he turned and walked down the hallway. Soon, his bedroom door clicked, and I was alone again.
Unlike I expected after releasing some of my anger, I didn’t feel any better. I felt terrible, actually.
Hanging my head, I trudged back to my bedroom. Glancing at my phone again, hoping for good news, my heart sank deeper when I saw there were no missed calls.
Sighing, I sat on the edge of the bed and recognized the unsettled feeling growing in my stomach. It was guilt. Guilt over projecting my anger at the wrong person.
Chapter Seven
Archer
The next morning after I experienced Rose’s colossal freak-out, I awoke early to ensure I wouldn’t bump into her on my way out. Not that I expected to see her outside of her room. It would be crazy for her to accept my hospitality.
Picking up the leather jacket that started the explosion, I slid it on and put on my shoes. With my hand on the doorknob, I was ready to leave until something pulled at me. I looked over my shoulder at the fridge, sighed, then plodded over to the breakfast island and grabbed a pen and notepad.
Gripping the pen tightly in my hands I clenched my jaw and scribbled, “Eat some fucking food. Seriously.” I stared at the cuss word with narrowed eyes before exhaling through my nose and scratched it out. Quietly, I snuck to her bedroom door and left the piece of paper on the floor outside her room.
It wasn’t even nine in the morning when I walked through the doors of the Ironhead Tavern. Tank, Evelyn, and Crow sat around the table, the usual early risers. Tank and Evelyn’s eyes each widened to see me arrive so early, but Crow seemed unfazed and lit a cigarette.
Tank pulled his white coffee cup from his mouth. “The hell are you doing here so early, boy?”
“Kill me,” I said as I slumped into my chair, even more dejected than the night before. Apparently Crow found my misery funny and burst out laughing.
The string of Evelyn’s tea bag hung from her mug, the smell of Earl Grey comforting me almost as much as her nurturing voice. “Oh, Archer. What happened?”
“How’d you fuck it up already?” Tank asked.
“She’s anightmare,” I said. “I have no idea what I did! I got home yesterday, and she went mental on me.”
Crow, once again, cackled.
Tank looked at me with his neck tilted. “You must have done something.”
