Archer's Voice(82)

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.