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“Why?” Shocked as I was to find how hoarse my voice was when that single word escaped my lips, he still heard it.
“I don’t know,” he admitted, giving me an apologetic smile. “I’m sure Jensen or Ian would give you a list of reasons for how different you were, how special, how much you don’t even compare to any other woman. I don’t knowwhy. I just know that you are.” The car was put in park, and he turned towards me, placing a hand over his chest. “I can fucking feel you here, Mare. Ian and Jensen are my brothers, and they always will be. They’re in my blood, but you’re my heart. You’re in my soul, sweetheart. When I wake and you’re not there, I miss you. I miss the way your hair tangles in my face and how you fucking smell. I miss your skin against mine. I miss snuggling with you. I miss holding you—in any fucking way I can. When you’re not there, the world’s duller.”
My lips parted, and my jaw dropped open. I’d always assumed that Archer was the easygoing lover. He cared, but his level of obsession wasn’t anywhere near Ian’s or even Jensen’s, but I’d been wrong. So fucking wrong.
“Archer—”
The ring of a cell phone cut off what I was about to say. As he withdrew the phone from his pocket, he cursed and answered. “Hold on,” he said into the phone before turning to me. “Go inside, Mare. I’ll be there in a minute.”
I didn’t know what else to say or do, so I found myself following his orders. Climbing out of the car and heading for the side staircase that led into my basement studio, I hesitated with my key in the lock, only half turned, and glanced around the side of the building when a car door slammed. Archer was still on the phone but leaning against the hood of his car and listening intently to whatever the other person was saying. With a sigh, I finished turning the key in the lock, and the door swung inward.
I stepped into the darkened interior of my bedroom/living room and searched for the light switch on the wall with my hand. My fingers bumped against it, and the lights came to life a moment before I realized I wasn’t fucking alone.
A scream bubbled out of my throat as I stumbled back, but the man was on me before I could escape. He was clad completely in black from head to toe, a balaclava covering his face and leaving only enough room for his eyes—cold eyes with no hint of emotion in them. He barreled towards me, and my back slammed against the wall. The air in my chest seemed to disperse until there was nothing left for me to do but try and suck more in.
Hands went around my throat, and my eyes widened as thumbs pressed down on either side of my airway. The lights I’d just turned on began to fade again, gray encroaching on my vision the longer he applied pressure. I fought, slamming my fist into his abdomen—a hard abdomen covered in something like … was that a fucking bulletproof vest? Twisting and turning, I struggled, but the man held firm. He didn’t even blink, just kept staring at me with brown eyes devoid of humanity. His faceguard shifted slightly … revealing the hint of a cold smile. Fear slammed into my chest, and I knew. There was no doubt that this man had been sent by my father. He was a professional killer, and my body was already growing weak under his onslaught. If I didn’t hurry, if I didn’t do something to get Archer’s attention, I was as good as dead.
Shuffling along the wall, the man followed, keeping his fingers pinned to my throat. I felt light-headed, woozy. Cold. My fingers reached out, searching for something.Anything. My grasping hand found cold wet glass. A cup of water that I’d left sitting out. Never before had I felt so grateful for forgetting to put something away. Without hesitation, I brought the glass up and slammed it into the side of the man’s face as hard as I could.
The glass shattered against his head, and while his balaclava protected him, there was no stopping the involuntary need to flinch away from objects flying at his face. The breaking of the glass was muffled by the fabric but loud enough that I was sure Archer must have heard it. I couldn’t wait for him, though, I had to keep fighting as though there was no white knight coming to my rescue. His fingers loosened their grip, and I managed to lift my foot enough to kick at his knee. Slipping away when he stumbled back, I lurched for the still open door and slammed into a body harder than granite.
No…was the single thought in my head as I bounced off the second man’s chest. There were two of them. There was no way I could get away from two of them. It wasn’t until the man’s arms came around me and kept me from falling that I realized this man wasn’t here to help my attacker; he was here to help me.
Archer’s eyes widened, and he looked over my head just as a hard, jarring movement shoved both of us to the side and my attacker made a break for it.
“Shit!” he hissed, his eyes swinging from me to the fleeing man in black.
My hands clenched in Archer’s shirt. “Don’t go,” I rasped, fear holding me immobile. If the man came back or if hedidactually have a friend nearby, I’d be a goner. Archer looked like he wanted to argue, but instead of doing so, he merely pulled me against his chest, crushing me against him as he trembled with rage, his hands balling into fists against my back. “Please,” I whispered.
“I’m not going anywhere, Mare.” He whispered the promise into my hair.
Good, because neither was I.
