Page 103 of A Million To Fall

“Does he always talk to you like that?” I ask as gently as I can. Last thing she needs is another asshole barking at her. And Archer treating her like garbage is hardly her doing.

“No,” she says a little too quickly for my liking.

“Does he hurt you?” I ask, even quieter, hoping she’ll say no… and mean it.

Her eyes widen. “No.”

I turn my head, studying her for as long as is reasonable while driving. I want to believe her so badly. “He tracks you.”

“He’s just worried about me.”

She sounds exactly like my mom when she’d tell me Eddie was just having a rough day.

I just make a sound, something akin to a grunt.

“He installed the app when I left for college,” she volunteers. “We’re in different states, Boss. He just—”

“Worries about you.”

She nods.

“Skye—”

“I know. You don’t like how he treats me,” she snaps, making air quotes.

“That’s not—I mean, yeah, but—”

“But let’s be honest, Boston.” She swallows, her eyes suddenly a stormy ocean. “You were gone.”

I flinch, the words like a shove to the chest.

“For two years. You don’t know the first thing about my relationship.”

I open my mouth. Then close it again.

She turns back to the passenger window with a quiet sigh. “Just take me home, Boss. Please.”

The rest of the drive passes in silence. There’s nothing to say.

She’s right.

I was gone.

And no matter how much I hate what I see now, I wasn’t here to see how it got this way.

Or stop it.

thirty-two

Skye

Dinner wasn’t originally supposed to be this big. Archer told me on the drive over to the Davises that sometime between tracking deer and cooking breakfast on their camping stoves, Mr. Longfellow and Mr. Davis shifted conversations from hunting to legal strategy.

My dad’s firm has been handling a lot of the Longfellow estate’s compliance work lately. When Mr. Davis heard Mr. Longfellow gush about my dad’s legal prowess, Mr. Davis decided they should all have dinner before he leaves for Denver this Friday.

Archer, Jake, and their dads made it back to town only six hours ago, but here we are: Jake’s family. Archer and his dad. My parents.

Three households braided together by business, campaign donations, and long-standing favors.