Page 102 of A Million To Fall

My jaw ticks.

I see her shrug, even though he obviously can’t. “I’m all alone, Archer. What do you want me to do, collect dust until you get back?”

Feisty girl. I like it.

“I don’t want you hanging around weird people, baby. You know I worry about you,” he says. The irony is almost enough to make me laugh.

“I know, Arch,” she says, all the fight gone from her voice. “I’m not with weird people, I promise. Just a few kids I got to know working at Riverfront.”

“Was Boston there?” The question lands extra sharp.

Skye’s eyes flicker to me for a second, her lips forming a thin line.

I’m on the edge of my seat. Archer knows she and I work together, that we see each other at least twice a week—more if our friends crave AJ’s on a night I’m working. I don’t need verbal confirmation that Archer hates my guts. I can tell by the look on his face when he spots me—like he drank straight vinegar.

Apparently, Skye comes to the exact same realization. “No.” But I hear the wobble in her voice. She’s such a bad liar. Always was.

“Skye!” Just her name. Like a warning.

I’m beginning to sweat with how hot it is in my car. Or maybe it’s just the rising temperature of my blood. For a millisecond, I want to grab her phone and let him know she’s lying. That she’s with me.

Because he left her.

And I showed up.

But I know how narcissists work. I know that my involvement would make things exponentially worse for Skye. So, I just throttle the steering wheel and clamp my mouth shut.

“Why are you picking a fight, Arch?” She looks and sounds so much younger than just two minutes ago. I hate it. “I didn’t do anything wrong. I’m just trying to pass the time as best I can, okay?”

There’s a long moment of silence. I hope to God he’s getting a grip on himself, because I need to get a grip on myself.

Finally, “Sorry, baby,” he says with much less heat in his voice. “I worry about you. I want to protect you.”

Bullshit.

“I know that,” she says, so sweet and earnest that I want to throw the car in park, launch her phone out the window, and pull her into my arms. “Well, because I know you won’t have reception again once you get back to the campsite, you should know I’m going to spend tonight at Lily’s. And my parents are coming home tomorrow. I’m working tomorrow and Tuesday,” she says, rattling off her schedule for the next few days like she’s delivering a status report.

“And then I’ll be home,” he says.

She nods. “And then you’ll be home.”

“Alright, baby, I have to let you go,” Archer says. “I’ll call you as soon as I have reception again.”

“Okay.”

“Please don’t go hanging out in sketchy places again, baby.”

Sketchy my ass.

“Okay,” she repeats, then returns his enthusiastic I love you with a noticeably less excited-sounding love you, too.

I stare at the stretch of road ahead of us.

“Sorry ‘bout that,” she says quietly.

My grip on the steering wheel loosens. “For what? You didn’t do anything.”

She nods, lips tight.