Archer stepped closer. “You think this is hunger?”
“I think you’re a man who’s starved and finally found a table.”
For a second neither moved. Archer’s fist clenched as anger welled up.
Rome exhaled and broke the stare-down first.
“I’m trying to keep both of you from bleeding out slowly.”
Archer crossed his arms. “You done?”
“No.”
“Shocking.”
Rome ignored that. “Can you give her a normal life?”
“No.”
“Can you leave this work?”
“No.”
“Can you promise she won’t be targeted because of you?”
Archer’s silence answered for him.
Rome nodded once. “Then tell me what exactly you’re building here.”
Footsteps sounded in the hall before Archer could answer.
Light, quick, familiar.
Jolie came in carrying a tray. She stopped when she saw Rome, then looked between them with immediate suspicion.
“Am I interrupting a testosterone ritual?” she asked.
Rome smiled like he hadn’t just given Archer the big-brother act when he was pretty sure they were the same age. “Only if you brought enough bacon.”
“I did not.”
“Then no.”
She set the tray on the bed, taking a moment to read the room.
Rome clapped Archer once on the shoulder as he passed. “Eat while it’s hot.”
“Get out.”
Rome paused at the door and looked back. “I mean what I said.”
“Yeah.”
After he left, silence settled in the room.
Jolie set her hands on her hips, drowning in Archer’s sweats and looking fucking perfect. “What was that about?”
Archer glanced at the breakfast, then at the woman who’d made it, then at the closed door, to where Rome had delivered truth like a knife.
