Page 88 of Dead Vengeance

“Thank you.”

“That’s okay.” Then, once everything’s in place and he’s seated, he just… starts to eat.

So I put my cutlery down. He looks at it. He looks at me. He looks back at his plate, then keeps eating.

“Did Simon go somewhere?”

He knows what I’m really asking. He nods again, more slowly. “He left.”

“Good. I don’t want to trigger him with my gun.”

“You don’t want to…” A little scoff-laugh escapes. “Trigger him? With your gun?”

“No, I hadn’t…” I laugh too, softening at the daft humour. “I didn’t mean it like that.”

“I know. It’s sweet of you.”

“I’d imagine he’s pretty cut up about being shot.”

“Might be cut up about it if he got knifed,” Archer jokes.

And I laugh at that too. But it’s not long before Archer’s smile fades. Then he says, “I’m going to ask you to… not do what we said.”

My heart rebounds hard in my chest, and not for the romantic reasons it did before. “I’m sorry, what?”

“I’m going to have to…” He takes my hand. I wrap his in return, completely enamoured, but with this sinking feeling smothering what should be a nice moment. “You can’t go up there. It’s not safe.”

I cough out a small laugh. “I know it’s not safe. I was up there with you yesterday when…” When a bunch of stuff happened that I’d decided not to tell him about. Because I knew this was coming.

“When what?” he asks, and he asks it pointedly, like he knows I’m not telling him something.

“When nothing. When… When it was creepy as shit. But it was fine. I was fine.”

“I know.” He squeezes my hand. “I’m glad you’re fine. That you were okay. But after everything you told me yesterday…” He goes quiet when I pull my hand away. He looks at it there on the table, then scoops it up again, holding on gently. “I don’t like what it’s doing to you.”

“You don’t know what it’s doing to me.” The defensiveness in my tone surprises even me.

He diffuses it with, “I know it’s trying to hurt you, and I don’t want it to.” The arched fingers of his spare hand press into the table, and he looks deep into my eyes. “This is nice. Breakfast with you. This is something I can see myself doing again and again, if you’d like that.”

My stupid ping-pong heart smacks back up.

He continues, “So I’m actually not going to let you go up there today and either get yourself killed or go through another hallucination.”

“Then how are you going to get rid of it? Because the way I see it…” I also press my fingers to the table, a mirror to his. “This doesn’t keep happening if you’re in danger. If you’re too worried to have me over. Or if I get fired by Gerald for not finishing this job.”

Archer assesses me a moment longer, like he’s playing over something in the back of his mind, then he picks his fork back up. “I’m going to call Gerald today and tell him you finished the job.”

He’s already made up his mind. And that thing, crouching in his attic, or whatever it’s doing, but I imagine it crouching, is going to… what? “Then how will you get rid of it?”

“I don’t know.”

The casual way he’s carrying on is driving me crazy. Maybe that’s why my tone turns so sharp. “I’m not letting you go up there without me.”

“Liam.” His cutlery drops. “You don’t need to worry about me.”

“I’m pretty sure I do.” I laugh out a nervous, frustrated laugh. “You’re living in a haunted house. And I know you’re sitting here telling me all these ghosts aren’t as bad as people think they are, and maybe in the case of Helena you’re right, possibly in the case of Simon, though I’m still not convinced, but this…” A flash of my brother, dead on the floor, blood everywhere. And it’s not just horror that hits me. It’s anger. The same anger that hit me last night, knowing that creature thinks this is funny. That it thinks this is okay to do to people. “You know, if you don’t stop it, it will do this to other people too?”

Archer’s eyes flash. He says nothing, but I can tell I’ve hit a sore spot.