AllFreeNovel
Share Us
"Att, be gentle with her." Connie admonished him with a scowl.
"Gentle isn't going to work, Con. Archie's convinced she's a murderer—she has to understand that, as someone who deals with murderers every other day and wears that label himself, I know what the fuck I'm talking about when I say she isn't." Nudging her chin up, he frowned down at her. "Jasper will tan your hide if you keep this up, little bit. You two are the only ones who know exactly what happened out there, and his memory is a little shot right now. One sweet sub cannot be expected to bear the burden of that alone, especially when violence isn't in her nature. So, you're going to share it with Connie and me, and Jasper when he gets his discharge papers."
"It's not fair. You didn't have any part of it—you shouldn't have to live with it."
"Listen to yourself. You weren't part of the feud between Jasper and Dominic. Hell, Jasper didn't drag you into it. Who did?"
"Dominic."
"Yeah. Dominic. Does that mean we're blaming Jasper now, for being his father's son? Maybe we should just pile the whole sordid mess on his shoulders, make him pay for Michael's death, make him suffer for what you were forced to do. Fuck, let's go the whole hog, shall we, and say that he should have stopped this before it ever started and neutralized Erik and Gerald at birth." When she gaped at him in horror, Atticus shrugged his shoulders. "He was old enough. He'd have been eight when they were born, right?"
"Stop it."
"No, youstop, Anarchy. Stop trying to be brave and strong for once. We don't need you to show us how courageous you are—we already know. We need you to be fucking human and share the pain."
Infuriated, devastated, Archie shoved off his lap and past Connie. Her body felt as though it was splitting open at the seams, crammed so full with emotions she couldn't control. "You know what, if you want it, fucking take it, Atticus!"
He spread his long arms wide. "Ready and waiting, little bit."
"I was...I was furious. I wasn't even thinking, not that I can remember. My foot was on the gas pedal, the truck was hurtling through the dark. I don't think Gerald heard me until I was ten feet away, if that. He was looking down at Jasper, stretching, the knife in his hand. Then he turned his head and looked at me as though he wasn't expecting to see an SUV flying down the road at him. He spun to face me, but he didn't even try to step out of the way." Words spewed in a continuous ramble, tainting her throat with bile. "Our eyes locked, and then—"
What the fuck. Oh fuck. Scream.
Bump-bump.
"The truck hit him. Hard. His torso kind of flipped over onto the hood and I think...I swear half his bones broke on impact. He screamed. God, he screamed, and his face hit the hood. Screaming as he slid down and under the tires. They made the same bump-bumpthey had when Gerald threw Michael's body in front of the truck when Jasper was driving. I knew I'd run him over." Bile raced up her throat. "I keep seeing that look on his face. That what the fucklook. And then it turns to horror, and then...then...the scream."
She bent over and heaved, grateful for Connie's quick thinking as the Domme pushed a small trash can under her face. She threw up so hard, she thought she felt something rip inside her. Her hands gripped the metal can, letting the metal dig grooves into her palms. She began to cry when Connie pulled her hair back and stroked her rigid shoulders.
Silence filled the room once her retching stopped. The bed squeaked as Atticus stood and walked out of the room.
Archie dropped to her knees, tired enough to roll onto her side and just die where she was. She'd experienced moments of emotional purging before, but they had never wiped her out so perfectly. Shaking viciously, her teeth on the edge of chattering, she closed her eyes and tried to ignore the scent of her weakness.
Arms hefted her from the carpet, and she was once again enfolded against a broad chest. Hot cotton wiped over her face, cleaning away every trace of sickness. Miserable, she curled herself fully into Atticus, tears of self-pity and self-loathing soaking into his shirt.
"And this, little bit," he told her quietly, "is why we wanted you to tell us the details."
"I want Jasper," she sobbed. "I want Jasper to come home and make everything right again."
"That's going to be a few days yet, Archie. I'm sorry. The doctors want to monitor him during his recovery—he hurt his back so they're not taking any chances with him. He should be home by the weekend, which means you'll be coming to live with me until then." He stroked her back gently. "Braun and Bodie need some stress-free time, and you're gonna go through some stressful days."
No, she wasn't staying with Atticus. If Jasper was in the hospital, then she would be stuck to his side until they released him. There had to be a spare pair of cuffs she could borrow from Avalon—she would happily attach herself to the bedrail. "I need to be with Jasper, Atticus. I need to find my center again, and he's it."
"We'll talk it over with him later. I'm not promising anything."
Promises or no promises, Archie refused to back down on the issue. When Bodie had been injured, the Masters had been there, Jasper included. It shouldn't be any different for Jasper, and she was adamant that despite the circumstances, she would not be leaving the hospital unless someone knocked her out and dragged her physically away.
Understanding how Master Atticus's mind worked—to a degree— Archie remained silent, sniffling as she got her crying jag under control. Giving him any insight into her goal would only lead to him thwarting her at the last turn, and she was determined to outwit him in this.
"There's something else we need to discuss, Archie. When we go to the hospital...no, let me start again. There is no trace of what happened to Gerald last night left. Every shred of evidence has been disposed of—the bodies, the cars, the blood. Erik won't be talking to anyone, and neither will Jasper."
"So that leaves me," she whispered.
"Yeah, little bit. That leaves you. If you have a weak moment and let it slip, it's going to cast eyes our way. From there, it could go really bad. The police would investigate, and they wouldn't find anything incriminating, which then sets you in their crosshairs as a troubled individual, for lack of a better word. I imagine you'd face intense psych testing, possibly incarceration. Can you keep quiet about this?"
It didn't sit well with her. Her moral compass was strong...or she thought it had been. It had been shaken down to the roots, along with the rest of her. "I hardly think I'm going to run around the city shouting about how I mowed a man down with my Master's SUV, sir. It doesn't seem prudent to throw myself under the bus."
"Guilt does strange things to a person," Atticus warned her. "One minute, you'll be absolutely fine. The next, you'll want to cry, or you'll be blurting shit out you never intended to say. Jasper will guide you through that, as will Connie if you need her. You can come to any of the Masters, Archie. Any of us, at any time."
