He simply walked in and stared up the curved staircase that fanned out in two directions.
The entryway was two stories tall, everything inside the house black and white as well.
I expected to be impressed and awed, but in reality, the beauty of the house was only in its size and perfectly kept appearance. Everything else about it, as I should have expected, was cold.
“Analise?” he called. “Ready?”
“Coming,” she yelled.
A short woman with ruddy cheeks bustled into the entryway, wearing a black-and-white uniform that matched the rest of the house. “He’s in a foul mood tonight. If you take her without talking to him, it’ll only get worse.”
“Then leave at the same time we do,” he told her. “I don’t want you here alone with him.”
She nodded, her eyes landing on me and widening incrementally. “Who is this?”
Archer and I traded a quick look, and when I didn’t get the impression that this visit was one where I needed to keep my mouth shut, I held my hand out to the woman and smiled. “I’m Remi, a f-friend of Archer’s.”
“Are you?” she asked softly. “Mr. Archer doesn’t have many friends, and certainly none as pretty as you.”
“Rebecca,” he warned.
“Nice to meet you, Rebecca. What do you do here?”
“I keep them fed and relatively happy,” she said. “Most of them, at least.”
Analise appeared at the top of the stairway, a backpack over one shoulder. Her eyes were red, the skin around them puffy from crying. At the sight of her, Rebecca looked so sad.
Once she’d neared the bottom of the stairs, she jumped off the last one and threw herself into her brother’s arms, her tears starting again. “Please don’t let him send me away,” she sobbed.
“I won’t.” He kissed the top of her head. “Hey, look at me.” Analise lifted her head, still so pretty even in her tears. “I won’t, I promise.”
Analise gave a shaky nod.
“That’s not something you can promise, given you’re not her parent. Not her guardian. And she’s a minor.”
My skin prickled at the sound of his voice, and when he appeared at the far end of the entryway, I took an unthinking step backward.
It was like looking at Archer in twenty-five years. They wereidentical. Older, of course, with salt-and-pepper hair and more wrinkles. But the height, the imposing presence, the jawline and the eyes, the proud, straight line of his nose—they could have been twins.
Archer shifted his sister behind him so that she was next to me, and he moved to the side, standing in front of both of us. Analise was crying quietly, and I grabbed her hand, clutching it tight with mine.
“She’s coming with me tonight,” Archer said firmly. “You need some time to cool down. She’s spent the night at least once a week for the past year, and you’ve never complained.”
“That was before the two of you lied to me and conspired to ruin your entire fucking career,” he snapped.
“My career will be just fine. Many players do much worse than I did and we both know it.”
“They weren’t an Evans,” he yelled. “It was bad enough that my son was taken in for a mug shot like a common criminal. But knowing you didn’t even do it? What the fuck were you thinking?”
Archer kept his face even. “I was thinking about my sister—and I promise, you don’t need to worry about my priorities, old man.”
His father’s eyes flickered dangerously, and I braced myself, expecting an outburst. But then his eyes landed on me and narrowed. “Well ... it seems we have another uninvited guest.” His gaze shifted to Archer. “Prettier than you, though, isn’t she? Where’d you pick this one up?”
My heart stuttered, waiting for the flare of Archer’s temper in response.
His jaw clenched. “Come on, let’s go.”
Analise and I started to turn, Rebecca right on our heels, when his father’s voice rang out again.