The angle was awkward, but he clipped Archer just underneath his eye.
Archer’s head snapped back as I lurched forward, hand outstretched. There was a trickle of blood on his cheekbone when he touched his fingers to his face.
“Dad!” Analise cried. “Stop.”
His father shook out his hand, studying the signet ring on his finger. “I’ve wanted to do that for years.” He locked his eyes on me and smiled. “Thank you for giving me the perfect motivation.”
Archer took a step forward, teeth bared, eyes blazing, arm raised, and I grabbed it with a shout. “No, Archer. Don’t.” I grabbed his face until he was forced to look at me. “He’s not worth it.”
After a moment, the anger fell from his features, tension bleeding from his frame. My thumb brushed at the blood. “Please,” I whispered. “Don’t let him win.”
“Oh, it’s too late for that, sweetheart,” his father said behind us. “The moment he laid his hands on me, I already did. He likes fucking with his reputation? Let’s see how good it feels when he’s cuffed and taken in for assault from his childhood home.”
He was already pulling out his phone, and Archer’s eyes filled with resignation.
Analise sobbed behind us, Rebecca doing her best to calm her down.
My mind raced, and I didn’t think, didn’t process, simply turned and gave his dad a curious look. “Why would you call the cops?”
He stopped and gave me an incredulous look. “He pushed me. That’s assault. I defended myself.”
With a simple tilt of my head, I made sure to hold his gaze. I held it through the nerves and the second-guessing, and I held it through the tiny voice in my head wondering what the fuck I was about to do.I held his gaze and spoke anyway. “But you hit him first. The push came second.”
Shocked silence pulsed through the room, and I was sure they could all hear the thrash of my heart behind my ribs.
His eyes narrowed, then he let out an uncomfortable laugh. “Are you drunk?”
I smiled. “Sober as can be. And I know exactly what I saw.”
Archer’s hand found mine, his fingers sliding between my own and squeezing tight.
Behind us, Analise sniffed. “I saw it too.”
“So did I,” Rebecca said quietly.
Mr. Evans scoffed, but the color flooding his cheeks gave him away. “This is insane. You’re all going to lie about what happened? You have no proof.”
“Neither do you,” Archer said in a dangerously low voice. “But by tomorrow morning, I’ll have a black eye.” He grinned. “Thanks for that, old man.”
“Do you still want to call the cops?” I asked, giving him my sweetest smile.
He was breathing hard, jerkily smoothing out the rumpled front of his shirt.
“We’ll take that as a no,” Archer said. “Have a great night, Dad. I’ll bring her back when she’s ready.”
He took a step forward, chin tilted arrogantly. “Yet,” he said simply.
“What?” Archer asked.
“I’m not calling the copsyet.” His gaze flicked to me, then the two women still holding each other by the door. “Rebecca, you’re fired.”
Archer stared at his father. “Rebecca, you ready to take me up on my job offer?”
“Yes, Mr. Archer,” she said in a shaky voice. “I think I am.”
“Good. Then let’s go.”
Analise was still crying as she waited for me to shift some items in the back seat so she had somewhere to sit. Archer walked Rebecca to her car, speaking quietly to the much shorter woman.