Текст книги "Archer's Voice"

Автор книги: Mia Sheridan

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Текущая страница: 18 (всего у книги 23 страниц)

CHAPTER 27

Archer – Seven Years Old, May

"Archer!" my mama called, her voice sounding just a little bit scared. "Baby, where are you?"

I was sitting under the dining room table, the heavy tablecloth hiding me as I kneeled on the floor with my action figures.

I hesitated, but when my mama called me again, sounding more worried this time, I crawled out from under the table and went to her. I didn't like to hear my mama scared, but I also knew something was going on and I was scared too.

My mama had been whispering into the phone all morning and for the last half hour, she'd been upstairs stuffing clothes and other things into suitcases.

That's when I'd hidden under the table and waited to see what would happen next.

I knew that whatever was going on was happening because my daddy had come home last night, again smelling like some other lady's perfume and had slapped my mama in the face when she said his dinner was already cold.

I had a feeling my mama had finally had enough. And if I had to guess about who she was on the phone with, I'd say it was Uncle Connor.

My mama turned the corner into the dining room just as I was crawling out from beneath the table and let out a loud breath. "Archer, sweetheart," she said, putting her hands on my cheeks and bending down so that her eyes were right in front of mine. "You worried me."

"Sorry, mama."

Her face got soft and she smiled at me and moved the hair back from my forehead. "It's okay, but I need you to do something for me and it's really important. Do you think you can listen and do as I say and not ask questions right now?"

I nodded.

"Okay, that's good." She smiled, but then it disappeared and the worried look came back into her eyes again. "We're going to go away, Archer–me, you, and your… uncle Connor. I know that's probably confusing to you right now, and I'm sure you have questions about your daddy, but–"

"I want to go," I said, standing up taller. "I don't want to live with him anymore."

My mama just looked at my face for a couple seconds, her lips pressed together. She breathed out and ran her hand over my hair again. Tears came into her eyes. "I haven't been a good mama," she said and shook her head back and forth.

"You are a good mama!" I said. "You're the best mama in the world. But I want to live with Uncle Connor. I don't want my daddy to hit you anymore or make you cry."

She sniffled and wiped a tear from her cheek and then nodded her head at me. "We're going to be happy, Archer, do you hear me? You and me, we're going to be happy."

"Okay," I said, keeping my eyes on her pretty face.

"Okay," she said, finally smiling.

That's when our front door opened and Uncle Connor walked quickly inside. His face looked tight.

"You ready?" he asked, looking at my mama.

She nodded. "The suitcases are right there," she tilted her head toward the four pieces of luggage sitting at the bottom of the stairs.

"You okay?" Uncle Connor asked, his eyes moving over my mama as if he was looking to make sure she was all there.

"I will be. Take us away from here," she whispered.

Uncle Connor's face looked like someone was hurting him for a couple seconds, but then he smiled and looked at me. "Ready, sport?"

I nodded and followed him and my mama out the front door. They both looked around as Uncle Connor put our suitcases into the trunk of the car. There wasn't anyone outside though and when they both got in the car, they seemed relieved.

As we drove away, heading out of Pelion, I watched as Uncle Connor grabbed my mama's hand in the front seat and she turned toward him, letting out a breath and smiling a small smile.

"Me, you, and our boy," Uncle Connor said softly. "Just us."

"Just us," my mama whispered, that same soft look moving across her face.

My mama looked back at me, and paused for a second before saying, "I packed your Legos and some of your books, baby." She smiled and leaned the side of her head on the head rest, still looking at me. Her shoulders seemed to be dropping lower by the mile.

I just nodded. I didn't ask where we were going. I didn't care. As long as it was away from here, anywhere was fine.

Uncle Connor looked over at my mama. "Put your seatbelt on, Lys."

My mama smiled. "This is the first time in years I feel like I’m not strapped down against my will," she said and laughed softly. "But okay, safety first." She tilted her head and winked at him, and I grinned. This was the mama I loved seeing–when her eyes would shine, and she'd get that sweet, joking tone in her voice and say something that would make you laugh at yourself, but in a good way, a way that felt warm and nice.

My mama reached for her belt, and all of a sudden there was a large jolt and our car swerved crazily. My mama screamed and Uncle Connor yelled, "Oh shit!" as he tried to keep us on the road.

Our car spun all over and then all I heard was the scream of metal on metal, glass shattering, and my own screams as our car flipped for what seemed like hours, finally coming to a stop with a loud creaking sound.

The terror hit me hard and that's when I started to cry, squeaking out, "Help! Help me!"

I heard a loud groan from the front, and then Uncle Connor was saying my name, telling me it would be okay as I heard him moving himself out of his seatbelt and then kicking the door open. I couldn't open my eyes. It seemed like they were glued shut.

I heard the back door being pulled open, and then Uncle Connor's warm hand was on my arm. "It's going to be okay, Archer. I got your belt undone. Crawl toward me. You can do it."

I finally made myself open my eyes and look up into my uncle's face, his hand reaching toward me. I grasped his arm and he pulled me out into the warm, spring sunshine.

My uncle Connor was talking again, and his voice sounded funny. "Archer, I need you to come with me, but I need you to turn your back when I tell you to, okay?"

"Okay." Terror and confusion made me cry more.

Uncle Connor took my hand and walked down the deserted highway with me just a little bit behind him. He kept looking backwards at the car we'd gotten into a wreck with, but when I glanced back once very quickly, it didn't look like anyone was climbing out of that one. Were they dead? What had happened?

"Turn your back, Archer, and stay here, son," Uncle Connor said, and his voice sounded like he was choking.

I did as he said, letting my head fall back so that I was looking up at the clear, blue sky. How was it that anything bad could happen under a sky that clear, that cloudless and blue?

I heard a strange wailing yell behind me and I turned around, even though I knew it wasn't following directions. I couldn't help it.

My uncle Connor was on his knees on the side of the road, his head thrown back, sobbing up at the sky. My mama's limp body was in his arms.

I leaned over and threw up into the grass. I stood up a couple minutes later, sucking in air and tripping backwards over my own feet.

That's when I saw him, coming toward us. My daddy. With a gun in his hand. A look of pure hate on his face, and zigzagging. He was drunk. I tried to feel fear, but I didn't see that there was anything more he could do now. I felt numb as I moved toward my uncle Connor.

Uncle Connor lay my mama's body back down gently on the side of the road and stood up, seeing my daddy now too. Uncle Connor moved toward me and pushed me behind his own body.

"Stay back, Marcus!" he yelled.

My daddy stopped a couple feet away from us and glared at us, weaving, his eyes bloodshot. He looked like a monster. He was a monster. He waved the gun around crazily and Uncle Connor grabbed me tightly, making sure I was right behind him.

"Put the fucking gun down, Marcus," Uncle Connor spit out. "Haven't you done enough here today? Alyssa… " He let out a noise that sounded like a hurt animal and I felt his knees give out just a little before he pulled himself back up.

"You think you're just going to ride out of town with my family?" the monster spit out.

"They were never your family, you sick sonofabitch. Alyssa… " He made that same choking sound again, and didn't finish that thought. "And Archer's my son. He's my boy. You know that as well as I do."

I felt a feeling like someone punched me in my belly and squeaked out a small sound as Connor's hands held me tightly again. I was his son? I tried to understand, tried to make sense of that. I wasn't related to the monster? I wasn't any part of him? I was Connor's son. Connor was my daddy. And my daddy was one of the good guys.

I peeked out at the monster as he looked at us. "Alyssa always was a slut. I don't doubt it. And the boy does look just like you, can't deny that." All his words ran together, just like they always did when he had been out drinking.

Connor's fists balled by his side and as I peeked up at him, I saw that his jaw wasn't moving as he talked. "Our mama could see you now, she'd cry her eyes out at the sick piece of shit you grew up to be."

"Fuck you," the monster said back, more anger filling his eyes, swaying some more. "You know who had to tell me that you were trying to drive out of town with my wife? Your wife. Yup, she came and got me and told me you were on your way out and that I better go collect what's mine. So here I am, collecting what's mine. Although I see I'm a bit late on one count," he pointed over to my mama, lying on the side of the road.

Hot anger filled my head. Connor was my daddy. He was taking me and my mama away from the monster–and the monster had messed it all up. Just like he always messed everything up. I moved fast around Connor's legs and ran at the monster as fast as I could. A loud roar came out of Connor, and I heard him scream, "Archer!!" like his own life depended on it. I heard his feet running after me as the monster raised his gun to fire and I screamed. But my scream sounded like a gurgle as something sharp and hot sliced through the side of my neck like a knife and I went down on the hard road. I brought my hands to my throat and when I brought them down to look, they were full of blood.

I heard another deep roar and I faded out, feeling myself fall, but when I came to, Uncle Connor, no wait, I thought dreamily, my daddy, my real daddy, was rocking me in his arms, tears running down his cheeks.

My eyes found the monster, kneeling now where he had been standing a few minutes before. Or had it been hours. Everything felt dreamy, slow.

"My boy, my boy, my sweet boy," Connor was saying again and again. He was talking about me. I was his boy. Happiness filled my chest. I had a daddy who was happy I was his.

"This is all his fault," the monster screamed. "If it wasn't for him, Alyssa wouldn't have still been hanging on to your sorry ass. If it wasn't for him, Alyssa wouldn't be lying in the road with a broken neck right now!" He sounded crazy, but sadness filled me up and I wanted someone to say it wasn't true. Was this all my fault? Connor, my daddy I had to remind myself, wasn't telling him it wasn't, he was just pressing something down on my neck, a wild look in his eyes.

I kept looking dreamily up at my real daddy, and I suddenly saw his face seem to blank and I felt him reaching for something at his side. Wasn't that where he carried his gun? I thought maybe it was. He usually had it there, even when he was off duty. I had asked him to look at it a couple times, but he had told me no, said he'd take me shooting someday when I was older, and he could teach me gun safety.

His hand came out from under me and he pointed his gun at the monster. My eyes moved to him in slow motion and saw right when he realized what my real daddy was about to do. The monster raised his gun too.

Both of their guns exploded and I felt my real daddy jerk beneath me. I tried to cry out, but I was so tired, so cold, so numb. My eyes moved back to the monster, and he was laying on the ground, a pool of blood spreading out slowly around him.

My eyes wanted to close and my real daddy's body felt so heavy on mine. But how could that be when he was standing over me, my mama right next to him? They looked so peaceful. Take me with you! I screamed in my head. But they just looked at each other and my mama smiled gently, but sadly, too, and said, Not yet. Not just yet, my sweet boy.

And then they were gone.

Somewhere far away I heard another car screech to a stop and footsteps running toward me. In the ten minutes it took for my life as I knew it to end, not another car had driven by.

A loud scream filled the air and I felt my body jerk.

"You!" a female voice screamed. It was Aunt Tori. I recognized her voice. "Oh God! Oh God! This is all your fault!" I opened my eyes. She was pointing her finger straight at me and her eyes were filled with hatred. "Your fault!" And then she screamed it again and again and again as the world faded out around me and the blue sky above me turned black.

CHAPTER 28

Bree

It was early, early morning–the sun wasn't even up yet as I opened Archer's gate quietly, let Phoebe out of her carrier, and walked down the driveway to his house.

I tried his door and it was open, and so I tiptoed in, not wanting to wake him. I sucked in a breath and froze. His living room was torn apart, every book on the floor, furniture and lamps turned over, pictures lying broken on the ground. Ice water hit my veins. Oh God, oh God, oh God. What had happened here?

The light from the bathroom was on and the door just cracked, illuminating his short hallway enough to see as I walked toward Archer's bedroom on legs that felt like jelly, vomit coming up my throat.

I turned into his room and immediately saw his form huddled on his bed, fully dressed. His eyes were open, staring at the wall.

I rushed to him. His skin was clammy and he was trembling slightly. "Archer? Archer? Baby, what's wrong?"

His eyes moved to me, unseeing, looking right through me. I started to cry. "Archer, you're scaring me. What's wrong? Oh God, do you need a doctor? What happened here? Talk to me."

His eyes seemed to clear a little, moving over my face. Suddenly in one swift movement, he sat up and grabbed me, his hands moving over my face, my hair, my shoulders. His expression cleared completely for an instant before torment filled his face and he pulled me to him harshly, making me cry out. He held my body in a vice grip, his body trembling so severely that it almost felt like he was having a seizure in my arms.

Oh God, he thought something had happened to me. "Oh Archer, I'm sorry, so sorry. My phone got ruined. I'm sorry. I dropped it in a puddle in front of McDonalds. I'm sorry," I cried into his chest, gripping his shirt. "I'm so sorry, Archer baby. I didn't have your number… so stupid. I should have written it down. I'm so sorry. Archer, I'm okay. I'm okay. I'm so sorry."

We held each other this way for what seemed like hours, his breathing returning to normal. His body stilled and his grip loosened on me until he finally sat back and looked into my eyes, his own still filled with torment, with something that looked very close to grief.

"I'm here," I whispered, brushing the hair off of his forehead. "I'm here, Archer."

He brought his hands up. I had almost forgotten what it feels like, he said, suddenly looking lost, like a little boy. My heart beat hollowly in my chest, breaking for the man I loved, so petrified of loss that his mind had checked out in order that he could deal with his agonizing fear. Oh, Archer. I stifled a sob. The last thing he needed right now was for me to lose it.

"What what feels like?" I whispered.

To be completely alone.

"You're not, baby. I'm here. I'm not going anywhere. I'm here."

He looked at me then and finally, smiled a sad smile. This is that burden I was talking about, Bree. This is what the burden of loving me looks like.

"Loving you isn't a burden. Loving you is an honor and a joy, Archer." I used my voice to talk to him so I could keep gripping his thighs with my hands. The contact felt important–not just for him, but for me. "You couldn't talk me out of loving you if you tried anyway. It's not a choice for me. It's just a truth."

He shook his head, looking lost again. If you hadn't come back, I would have lay here until I died. I would have just willed myself to die.

I shook my head. "No, you wouldn't have. It feels like that, but you wouldn't have. Somehow you would have had the strength to go on. I believe that about you. But you don't have to, because I'm here."

He shook his head. No. I would have just faded to dust, right here. How does that make you see me? Do I seem strong to you? Am I the kind of man you want? He looked into my eyes, begging me to tell him what he wanted to hear, but I didn't know what that was. Did he want me to tell him he was impossible to love? Did he want me to tell him I wasn't strong enough to love him? That the reassurance he needed from me was too much?

He pulled me to him and after a few minutes we moved over and lay down on his bed. I kicked my shoes off and pulled his quilt over us.

I listened to Archer's quiet breathing right at my ear, and after a few minutes, I closed my eyes too. We fell asleep facing each other, arms and legs entwined, our hearts beating a slow, steady rhythm.

Sometime later, when the midday sun was lighting the edges of the shade over Archer's bedroom window, I awoke as he pulled my jeans down my legs and my shirt over my head. He moved his hands over my skin as he closed his eyes and kissed me, almost as if he needed the constant contact to assure himself I was truly there with him. When I wrapped my legs around his hips and held him tightly, the look of relief that passed over his features was almost heart-wrenching. He moved inside me with deep, powerful thrusts, and I dropped my head back on the pillow, sighing with pleasure.

The pleasure rose higher and higher until I tipped over the edge, breathing out his name as my body shuddered in release. A few seconds later he followed behind me on two last jerky thrusts and then pressed deeply inside me as he stuck his face in my neck and just breathed there for several minutes.

I ran my hands up and down his back, whispering words of love in his ear over and over and over.

After a few minutes, he rolled to the side and gathered me in his arms again and was almost instantly asleep.

I lay there in the dim light of his room, listening to him breathe. I had to pee, and my thighs were sticky with his release, but I refused to move. I knew instinctively that he needed me right where I was. After a little while, I fell back to sleep too, my face next to his smooth chest, my breath against his skin, my legs entwined with his.

* * *

I woke up later and I was alone in bed, and the sun had moved in the sky. The light around the border of the shade was now muted and golden. Had we slept all day?

I sat up and stretched, my sore muscles protesting with my movement. I didn't think I had moved at all–wrapped in Archer's vice grip.

I looked up as he walked in the bedroom wearing a towel around his waist and rubbing another one through his hair that had already grown a little longer, starting to curl up slightly in the back and flop over his forehead a little. I liked it.

"Hi," I croaked out, smiling and bringing the sheet up over my breasts. He smiled back, a shy smile, and sat down on the side of the bed. He kept rubbing the towel through his hair absently for another minute as he looked down, and then he put the towel next to him on the bed and looked up at me.

I'm sorry about last night. I lost it, Bree, I was so scared and I didn't know what to do. I felt alone and helpless again. He paused, pursing his lips and obviously gathering his thoughts. I… freaked out, I guess. I don't even remember doing what I did to the living room.

I grabbed his hands and shook my head. Archer, do you remember how I reacted when I got caught in that net out there? I gestured my head to the window. I get it. Sometimes fear gets the best of you. I get it. I'm the last person you have to apologize to about that. You picked up where I left off once, and now I get to do that for you. That's how it works, okay?

He nodded, looking at me so solemnly. The problem, Bree, is that I feel like it's getting better for you and worse for me.

I'm up for the challenge, I said, raising my brows and smiling at him slightly, trying to coax a smile from him too.

It worked, and he let out a breath and nodded. Are you hungry?

Famished.

He smiled, but it still looked a little sad. I looked at him for a minute and then leaned forward and threw my arms around him. "I love you," I whispered in his ear. His body tensed slightly, but he wrapped his arms around me and squeezed me back tightly.

We sat there like that for a few minutes and then I said against his neck. "I need a shower–bad. Like, really bad."

He finally laughed just a little as he picked me up and sat me down on the floor and stood up, straightening his towel. I like you all dirty with me all over you, he said.

Oh, I know. I winked, trying to coax another smile from him as I walked toward his door, using my voice as I turned toward him. "You can dirty me up again later. Right now, I'm getting clean and you're going to feed me."

Yes, ma'am, he said, giving me another small smile.

I smiled back at him and then I turned out of the room and walked down the hall toward the shower. I closed the bathroom door behind me and just stood on the other side for a minute, trying to figure out why I was still so worried.