Page 106 of Archer

I wanted to believe him, but a growing part of me was losing faith.

Archer returned a few minutes later, and Nash climbed into his cruiser out front.

Sloane rested her coffee on the table, thin hands curved around the mug’s sides. “You can’t stay here tonight.” Her eyes bounced from me to Archer, then back, her voice gentle but firm. “The cottage isn’t secure anymore.”

I gave her a disbelieving look. “Where would I go?”

Knox stopped hammering. “Our place. We have plenty of room.”

Shock swept through me at the level of generosity in his offer. I would’ve done the same thing for him, for anyone in need, but it had been a long while since anyone other than Alexis had opened themselves this way for me. “I can’t impose like that.”

“You’re not imposing.” Sloane squeezed my arm. “Please. I’d feel better knowing you’re somewhere safe. Archer too.”

Archer stood silently near the wall with his arms crossed. When Sloane mentioned his name, he dipped his chin once in agreement.

“It makes sense,” he said. “Until everything’s secured here.”

I looked around the cottage. At the boarded windows. The broken glass.

“Okay,” I whispered. “I appreciate the offer. Thank you.”

Chapter 35

Archer

Harper stood in the center of the living room, looking utterly lost while Knox finished covering the last of the windows.

I wanted to go to her. Pull her into my arms like I had yesterday and promise this would be okay. But Colton’s warning look kept me rooted in place.

Apparently, everyone in the cottage had heard me put my foot in my mouth upon their arrival, and I didn’t want to make it all worse.

I hadn’t meant to hurt Harper, but I’d managed to say the perfectly wrong thing anyway.

Broken glass shifted and clacked against itself as I broomed the final dustpan full of shards into the trash bin.

“We’re just about done here. We should probably pack a bag,” I said instead.

Harper nodded, not meeting my eyes. Then, she turned and went to her bedroom.

Colton shook his head at me.

“I know.”

I moved through the cottage on autopilot, grabbing essentials.

Harper finished first and set her guitar and backpack on the kitchen table.

I carried our things to the truck as Knox finished the last window.

The cottage looked like a disaster zone from the driveway, as if it was the only home on the street hit by a storm.

It looked that way because I’d failed my mission. I’d let my personal feelings cloud my judgement and distract from what was most important. I’d failed to keep this psycho away.

“She’s safe.” Knox strode in my direction, reading my mind the way he always did. “That’s what matters.” He dropped his tools into the box inside his Jeep.

“She was photographed wearing only a sheet and crying.”

“I know.”