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ARCHER
“Minka?” The moment we’re left to enjoy a meal, and the cameras go back to paying more attention to Justin than they do us, I bound up from my chair and follow the woman who wears the most elegant golden gown I’ve ever seen in my life.
As she cuts through the packed room, the muscles in her back twitching—visible because of the cut of her dress—and tendrils of hair dangling from her updo, I follow just a half-dozen steps behind, and brush away the hands that attempt to stop me.
“Minka?”
“I’m leaving.”
She doesn’t slow or stop to speak to me, but she peeks over her shoulder so I catch a glimpse of her eyes, caked in makeup far too dark for her beauty, and below those, a perfect dimple digging into her cheek.
“I’m not hungry.” She escapes the too-warm function room and dips into the hall where it’s much quieter. “I’m not sticking around for the dancing.”
Pulling to a stop in front of the elevator, she smacks the call button with a harshthump-thump-thump, then she spins to me and thrusts her medal against my stomach, so I have to catch it or let it fall to the ground. “Why the hell would he reward me for what I did?”Thump. Thump. Thump.“Why, Archer?”
“PR?” I offer with a rueful smile. “He’s the new mayor, and he needs to make sure the people of the city believe in us. I mean, I get why he did what he did—”
A savage snarl rips along her throat. “He made me a hero for killing someone!”
To my right, the steel doors ding open to reveal an empty elevator, so Minka huffs and heads in with stomping feet.
“He celebrated murder,” she grumbles.
“He spun it.” I file in after her and wait for the doors to close. “He didn’t celebrate it, but he made sure everyone could see it as a heroic act instead of cold-blooded murder. Besides, why do you even care?” Leaning across her and invading her personal space simply to be a prick, I select the ground floor and pull back slowly enough to make sure my shoulder rubs across her torso. “The vigilante does the exact same thing, right? Makes a murderer a hero.”
“The vigilante cleans up other people’s messes. She sure as hell doesn’t accept or discuss award ceremonies and heroism.” Dragging her eyes to mine, Minka scans my face so her gaze feels like a physical touch. “I refuse to discuss the vigilante with you at all, Detective Malone. We’ve each made our positions clear on the matter, and I no longer wish to spar with you on something we cannot compromise on.”
“You want compromise?” Swinging my hand across with lightning-fast reflexes, I smack the emergency stop button and turn to face the woman I can’t let go. The woman I can’t bear to see walk out of my life.
“What are you doing?” Annoyed, Minka tries to step around me. “Why is everyone doing that today?”
“We’re in the Neutral Cube of Truth-Telling and Fantasy-Living.”
“Oh, for god’s sake,” she growls. “You’re as bad as Aubree. Can’t we just—”
“We’re in the Neutral Cube of Truth-Telling and Fantasy-Living,” I repeat. Slower this time. Calmer. Reaching out, I slide my finger and thumb beneath her chin and tilt it up so she meets my eyes. “Which means we get to say and do and think the things we might normally be afraid to think or say or do.”
“Archer,” she sighs. “I don’t have the time or energy—”
“You want compromise?” I take a step closer and stop only when my shoes touch hers and her hands instinctively rest on my hips. “Minka Mayet, we’ve gone round and round on this one thing, and every time we try, we decide without a doubt we want to be together, but we can’t agree on this vigilante shit.”
“You’re a cop.” She swallows so her throat bobs and her tongue comes out to wet her bottom lip. “I’m… the type you hunt down.”
“I’m a cop,” I acknowledge with a nod. “But I’m a man first, and no matter how hard I try to pretend this doesn’t matter, I can’t make myself walk away.”
“I just…” Her eyes dance with unshed tears. Her lips quiver with unspoken heartache. “I can’t take back the things I’ve done. And I can’t go to bed at night not thinking about Diane Philips. Or Alana Lyons. Or Louisa Thoma.”
Strengthening her hands on my hips, Minka drops her head until her chin rests on her chest, and my view is comprised entirely of the top of her head. “I won’t stop, Archer. It hurts me when I hurt you, but…” Slowly, she brings her gaze back up to lock on to mine. “It would hurt me a million times more to know there’s another little girl suffering, when I could have stopped it.”
“This thing you do…” Leaning in, since this could be my last chance before my fumbling relationship explodes and Minka removes me from her life completely, I press a kiss to her soft cheek. “This mission of yours… I spoke to Fletch about it.”
Her face drains white. “You told him?”
“No.” I kiss her other cheek. “I didn’t tell him everything. Just that you and I can’t seem to find an agreement we can both be happy with. I told him it’s like you want to adopt a fucking wolf.”
“A wolf?” She searches my eyes. “What?”
“A dangerous animal,” I press. “A menace you can’t possibly trust. But you do anyway. And you ask me to trust as well.”
