“Official?” she asked. Maybe squeaked.
“Yeah,” he said. “We’ll get married. Spence?”
“Yeah?” Spence asked warily.
“Book two seats to Vegas.”
Spence pulled out his phone.
Elle just gaped at them both.
Archer actually smiled then. “You’re so pretty, Elle. I want to eat you up.”
She turned to Spence, who was now on his phone. “He’s not going to remember any of this, right?” she asked.
“Hard to say. Morphine’s a bitch.”
“Apparently.” She stared down at Archer some more. His eyes had closed again but he was still smiling. God knew at what. She was torn between enjoying this and taking advantage of the opportunity to get him to talk. She decided to do both. “Spence, we need a minute.”
“Gladly.” And with what looked like huge relief, he made himself scarce.
Elle sat at Archer’s side and reached for his hand. “Did you mean it?” she whispered, desperately needing to know if he remembered the “I love you.”
His eyes were still closed and he was breathing deeply, the kind of breathing one did when one was deeply asleep.
Which answered the question, she figured with more than a little disappointment, but then she nearly jumped out of her skin when he spoke.
“I’ve meant everything I’ve ever said to you,” he said, just quietly without moving a single muscle, like maybe everything hurt. “I’m passing out now,” he announced.
She stared at him as he drifted away from her, her heart pounding.
A few minutes later, Spence came back in and found her still sitting there. “You okay?”
“He lost a lot of blood,” she murmured.
“He’s been worse off.”
“I think he’s in shock.”
Spence snorted. “Probably he’s afraid you’ll actually want to use those tickets I just booked for you. I know that’d send me into shock.”
Stunned, she stared at him. “Wait—you actually bought us tickets to Vegas?”
“Hey, he sounded pretty serious. And God knows, you drive him freaking nuts. I thought maybe he’d finally snapped.”
Elle had no choice but to laugh because she was the one who felt like she’d snapped. She wondered if they gave out morphine for that.
Chapter 25
#TeamArcher
The first thing Archer became aware of was soft, muted beeping. The antiseptic smell came next. Which meant it hadn’t all been a nightmare. Fact was, he remembered clear as day stepping inside Lars’s back door and hearing a gun being cocked. Push had come to shove and he’d had only a single second to make a choice. And that choice had been Elle. It’d always been her and it always would be. “Fuck. I was hit.”
“That’s what happens when you play the hero” came a voice he hadn’t expected.
Archer forced his eyes open to find his dad standing at the foot of the hospital bed.
“Thought you left the hero game,” his dad said.
Archer didn’t roll his eyes only because it would hurt. Everything hurt. “What are you doing here?”
“My son got shot. What do you think I’m doing here? And why the hell weren’t you wearing a flak vest? You forget everything I ever taught you?”
“Hey, I’m feeling fantastic,” Archer said. “Really. Thanks for asking. And nice job on calling me back after, oh I don’t know, any of my phone calls.”
His father stared at him for a long beat and Archer did his best to stare back but he had problems. One, he felt like someone had skewered him right through with a hot poker. Two, he was high as a kite. And three—he couldn’t see Elle.
Why couldn’t he see Elle? “Look, I don’t know who called you, but—”
“I called him,” Elle said. And then there she suddenly was, standing up from a chair across the room.
He stared at her. “What the hell for?”
Anyone else would have backed down. But not Elle. Never Elle. God forbid she back down on anything. Instead she lifted her chin, eyes flashing her temper, although her voice was quiet. Quiet steel. “You lost a lot of blood. You took a long time to wake up.” She paused a moment and he realized she was struggling to keep it together.
And suddenly he felt like the biggest sort of asshole. “Elle—”
“So yeah, I called him,” she said. “Get mad at me, not him.”
The thing was, she knew how he felt, how shitty the relationship was between him and his dad, and the last thing he wanted was to deal with it here. “You shouldn’t have made the call.”
Spence came up to Elle’s side and looked down at him. “Hey, man. I’m the one who helped her track his number down so if you need someone to take into the ring, you’re looking at him. But gotta warn you, you’re down more than a quart so I think I could take you.”
“Oh for God’s sake,” his dad said. “Is all this melodrama really necessary?”
“Take her out of here,” Archer said to Spence, eyes on his dad, his every breath sending pain spearing right through him.
“I’m standing right here.” Elle glared down at him. “You want me to go so bad, tell me yourself.”
No way in hell did he want her to witness the showdown between his dad and himself. He was already flat on his back, as vulnerable as a man could get. He looked her in the eyes. “I want you to go.”
She drew in a breath and turned away. Spence slipped his hand in hers and then they were gone, leaving Archer alone with the man staring down at him like he was the biggest disappointment of his entire life.
“Nice going, son,” his dad said, “alienating the people who care so deeply for you. You’re real good at that.”
“Well I did learn from the master.”
His dad snorted and then took the chair at Archer’s side. He leaned in, elbows on his knees. “They say you’re going to be okay. Your shoulder’s going to be a bitch to rehab but you’re young and in lean, mean, fighting shape so it’s doable.”
Good to know.
“I’m going to say some things now,” his dad went on, “and I want you to hear them.”
“I don’t know, Dad, I’m pretty busy at the moment, so . . .”