I don’t want to leave, and I especially don’t want to wake him when I move. But my bladder screams for relief, and my phone is demanding, not with an incoming call that might imply work, but with the sporadic delivery of messages from someone intent on conducting an entire one-sided conversation.
I carefully inch to the left, holding Archer’s face in my palm and gently settling his head on our shared pillow, then I drag my legs out from beneath his heavy thighs and extricate myself from beneath his possessive hands.
I bring my feet around and set them on the floor, and, peeking back to make sure Archer’s still asleep, I feel a pang of longing for the man it physically pains me to step away from.
It’s ridiculous, really, since I’m not even leaving our room.
Foolish, considering I’m not going away.
But not being with him this past week has left scars on my soul just as violently and permanently as his father’s anger left scars on each of his sons’ bodies.
The bastard.
I wonder, now that I know more of the world I married into, if Timothy Malone the Second’s name might’ve ended up on my list of men who need to die, had cancer not struck him down before I realized my fate.
Would I have killed Archer’s father if the universe demanded it?
Could I?
And if I did, would Archer have forgiven me?
Drawing a deep breath and puffing my cheeks wide, I exhale that cheery thought and push off the bed, tiptoeing around the wide frame and locating my pants bundled on the floor beside his. I scoop my phone up and cast one last look across to Archer’s sleeping form, then I make my way into the bathroom and head straight to the toilet, sitting and unlocking the screen to discover a group chat labeled ‘Silent Partners’.
Ace
We’re home. We were gonna stay in New York another night, but I had some stuff to do here, and it’s not like Jay sleeps, anyway. So when the Big Mac offered us his jet, we took it and ran.
Ace
Also, I’m assigning each of us alternative names, since it wouldn’t look good if our legitimate professional lives and our new role in [REDACTED]’s plans got mixed up. It’s only common sense.
Ace
This line is secure, but it’s best that we get these formalities ironed out early. Start as we intend to continue.
Ace
I’m sure you’re smart enough to infer who ‘the Big Mac’ is. Don’t make this awkward.
Princess Perfect
I want a new name. This one is weird. Makes me sound dumb.
The Weirdo
I, too, want a new name. Jesus, it’s like you never wanna eat candy again.
Curious, I tap out a simple‘test’and hit send, purely because I want to know what name Soph assigned me, but when my message populates amongst the others and my name is ‘death’, I roll my eyes and start typing again.
Death
Change my name, Ace. Immediately.
Princess Perfect
If she gets to change hers, I wanna change mine, too!
The weirdo
