Waiting Fate (6 page)

“You seem to be having trouble concentrating,” Sam smirked from where he sat on the scaffolding next to Archer.

“It’s the staples. They’re bent,” Archer muttered without looking at him.

Sam picked one up and inspected it. “They seem fine to me.”

Archer rolled his eyes. “Well, of course they aren’t all bent —”

“Right. Just the ones you’re trying to use. That’s so weird.” Sam was laughing at him. Archer thought about pushing him off the scaffolding, but that would mean he’d be stuck at work longer, doing Sam’s half of the job while he went to the hospital. That was the exact opposite of what Archer wanted to happen. On a normal day, he came early and stayed late, but today he was anxious to get out of there.

His phone buzzed in his pocket and he swore again, dropping the staple. Annoyed, he dug his phone out, hitting the answer button without looking at it. “Yeah,” he said, distracted, while he searched for his missing staple.

Sam held it up to him, a crooked smile on his face. Archer snatched it from Sam’s fingers with a dark glare, making Sam laugh harder.
He’s lucky I’m on the phone,
Archer thought.

“I can’t believe you did that last night.”
Mary.
Her voice was a screech that Archer would bet only dogs could hear, and he suppressed a groan. Why, oh why, had he not checked to see who was calling before he answered?
Stupid move, Archer.

“You were acting like a stuck-up snob. What’d you want me to do?” He shoved the staple into place and pounded it furiously into the wood, securing the electrical wire around it.

“So you aren’t going to apologize?” Archer smashed another staple into the wood, leaving a hammer dent. There was a chance he was pounding just a bit too hard.

“Not plannin’ on it, no.”

Her voice changed pitch, more of a pleading whine now, as she said, “When is your lunch? I want to see you.” That was the way it always was with Mary. When he’d had all he could take of the belligerent, spoiled Mary, she’d morph into the sweet girl he’d dated in the beginning.

“Pretty soon. But I don’t have long,” Archer said slowly. This time was different. He had no desire to see her again. And he knew why.

Ivy
.

“Well, I’m right outside your job site now. I’ll take you to lunch.”

“You’re here? Now? Why?” Archer asked, turning on the scaffold and searching the parking lot below. Yep, there was her little blue car, sitting outside the gate, although it was far enough away that he couldn’t see
her.
At least she couldn’t get inside the job site. He sighed. “I’ll be down in a minute.” He hung up and shoved the phone in his pocket.

“You don’t like her much, do you?” Sam asked, deceptively mild as he drilled a hole for the wire to go through.

“No.”

“Then why —?”

Archer sighed, shaking his head. “I don’t know.”

They went to a little diner with great chili, which was perfect because the temperature had dropped over the last couple of days and he was freezing. Mary was determined not to let him get a word in, as if she knew what was coming, and she talked so fast he didn’t even try to follow the conversation.

He ate and stood up, having not one clue as to what she’d been talking about for the past fifteen minutes. He did know those fifteen minutes dragged on for at least a century. “I gotta get back to work.”

“Already? It hasn’t been even close to an hour!” Mary whined.

“Busy day,” he grunted as he dumped his tray and waited by the door. She pouted all the way to the car, but Archer was smart enough to keep his mouth shut until she got to his job site. Otherwise, what he was about to tell her would greatly increase his chances of having to walk back to work.

She put the car in park but refused to look at him. Being moody might have worked on him before, but he was tired of her games.

“Mary, I’m not gonna do this anymore.”

She froze, her hand on the gear shift. “What do you mean? I thought you liked it when I met you for lunch.”

“Not this. Not lunch. Us. We’re done.”

“What?” She exploded, her face turning a mottled red as she slammed her fist on the steering wheel.

“Your temper tantrum last night was it. I can’t handle any more. I’m done.” Archer didn’t look back. He swung the door open and got out of the car.

“Archer, wait!” she cried, pushing her door open, but he shook his head.

“It’s over, Mary,” he said without glancing back.

“You’ll be back. You always are!” she called after him, her voice thick with tears.

“Nope.” Archer pressed his lips together, shaking his head. “Not this time,” he muttered, not loud enough for her to hear. She’d get it eventually, when he didn’t call again.

****

Ivy was sitting at Jay’s kitchen table, her head bent low over her notebook as her silky brown hair tumbled down her back. Archer stopped in the doorway to the kitchen and watched her for several seconds before anyone noticed he was there. She was as beautiful as she’d ever been in high school, but there was a sadness in her big dark eyes now, and a fear that had never been there before. He wanted to know why. He wanted to erase whatever it was that caused her so much pain.

The night before — the first time he’d seen her in five years — he had been surprised at how intense that feeling of wanting to protect her was. It hit him hard again now, that need to shelter her. Unfortunately, he’d seen the way Gunner and even Jay sometimes had looked at her.

Archer was pretty sure he wasn’t the only one who wanted to get to know her a whole lot better.

“Hey, Archer. They’re boring. Come entertain me,” Gunner called from across the room, where he sat watching TV. He patted the couch and winked. Archer rolled his eyes in mock horror.

Jay leaned back, stretching his arms over his head. “How’s your truck running?” he asked. He sat between Ivy and Gigi at the kitchen table, which was covered in books and highlighters and paper.

Ivy looked up, giving him a bright smile, and his heart jumped to his throat, threatening to choke him. He had to try several times before he could get the words out. “I think the tranny needs some work.”

He still hadn’t moved from the doorway, unsure what to do with himself, which was unusual. Archer was never unsure of anything.

“Bring it in tomorrow after I get out of school. We can work on it.” Jay was a gifted mechanic and had his own shop in the backyard. Why he didn’t just do that instead of trying to be a dentist, Archer would never understand.

Ivy tilted her head at him, shoving some of her books out of the way to clear a space. “Didn’t you say you had work to do?” With a mischievous grin she patted the seat next to her, and Archer left the doorway and sank into the offered chair, spreading out his blueprints on his section of the table. Jay left his spot to look over Archer’s shoulder, and Gunner was on his other side in seconds.

Ivy snickered as she nudged Gigi. “Nothing like boys and their plans.”

“No kidding.” Gigi nodded, grabbing a highlighter and scribbling over Jay’s notes while he wasn’t looking. It was like a weird, sabotage-game they seemed to play every night. Again, Ivy was intrigued by Gigi and Jay’s strange relationship. There was nothing between them, except that there
was
.

They worked for over two hours, and although Archer got a lot done — with Gunner and Jay’s help — he couldn’t have told them later what they’d decided. His attention was on Ivy, who every so often would tease them about their boring car conversations or confusing blueprint codes.

****

Archer started looking for reasons for spending evenings at Jay’s house, knowing she would be there. He brought his big green truck and left it, pretending it needed work on the transmission. It was true enough, but it was just so he had an excuse to see her, and he knew it.

Toward the end of the week, she lugged her book bag out to the shop and set her homework out on Jay’s workbench, offering to keep him company while he worked.

“You’re gonna freeze,” Jay said gruffly from the doorway to the shop, watching her take over his workbench.

“Yeah, but Archer’s been out here every night by himself. That’s not fun.” She batted her eyes at Jay and then at Gunner, who had appeared behind him, materializing out of the darkness like a ghost. “You could come help him. Then we could all come in sooner.”

Archer tried not to laugh as Gunner shoved his way past Jay into the room. “Well, why didn’t you say something? I’d be happy to help.”

Ivy looked over at Archer and he winked, feeling his heart pound as her face lit up. She watched them work that night and the next, every so often yelling, “Earmuffs!” when one of them would smash a thumb or burn a finger and swear. From anyone else, it would have been obnoxious, but from Ivy, it was adorable and none of them seemed to mind.

Thursday night, as they were walking to their cars, Archer said, “If you keep doing your homework in the shop with me, I might have enough help from them,” he jerked his head back toward Jay and Gunner, who still stood in Jay’s doorway, “to finish this tranny and get my truck up and running.”

Ivy laughed, a sound that seemed to sparkle in the darkness. “I am happy to help. Oh…” Her face fell. “I can’t tomorrow though. I have to go to the football game right after school and then a Greek play tomorrow night.”

Archer bit back his disappointment. “Sounds fun,” he said instead, bumping her with his shoulder.

“Oh yeah. Tons of fun. I don’t even know anyone going to the football game. It’ll be a blast sitting by myself.” She kicked at a rock, pausing by her car.

“I’ll go.”

Her head snapped up, and she peered at him hopefully in the darkness. “Serious?”

“Sure. I love football.”

“I don’t know a thing about it. But I’m pretty sure Webber’s team is terrible.”

Archer laughed. Terrible was an understatement. They hadn’t won a game in at least two years. “Yeah, they have been for a while. What time?”

“It starts at three. I’ll still be up on campus because I have a project I have to finish.”

“Okay. I’ll meet you there. I’ll just text you to find out where you’re at.” Reaching into her open bag, he snatched her phone from its little pocket and flipped through her contacts list, putting in his phone number and then texting himself so he had her number, too.
Nice, Archer. Smooth
. He was quite proud of himself. As he dropped her phone back into the pocket, she threw her arms around him.

“Thank you, Archer. You’re the best.”

He hoped she couldn’t feel his heart trying to explode through his jacket. That’d be a hard one to explain. “No problem,” he said, mortified that his voice sounded slightly strangled. He tried again, “No problem at all.”

Chapter Five

Ivy wasn’t willing to admit it out loud, but she got up earlier Friday morning and spent more time getting ready for school — which meant she had to do something with her hair besides throwing it in a ponytail.

She kept praying the day would speed up, but it seemed to be opposite day, and every prayer slowed things down even more — no matter how hard she tried to throw herself into her work. It was stupid. It wasn’t like it was a date. He’d felt sorry for her and was being a good friend, she knew that. But the thought of sitting next to him for two whole hours, just the two of them, made her pulse race. And then she would have a serious internal discussion with herself about what a lunatic she was being. It was nearing November, but a few months away from Vick was not enough to forget the terror of five long years. Or at least, it shouldn’t have been, but every time she looked at Archer, all she felt was safe and happy... and other emotions she wasn’t ready to examine yet. Maybe she’d had one too many concussions and had suffered some sort of brain trauma.

****

She made her way up the bleachers carefully, because she was notorious for slipping and falling through the benches. The stadium was pretty empty. Three o’clock had
finally
decided to show up, and she was a basket case.
He’s not going to come. He’s not going to come.
It was stuck on repeat in her stubborn little head. That was okay, she could handle a football game by herself, even if the thought made her heart sink. So when her phone vibrated in her pocket, she jumped out of her skin. She dug it out, scanning the message — and froze. It wasn’t from Archer. It was from Vick.

We need to talk
.

“No. No, no, no, no, no,” she whimpered, terror nearly overwhelming her at the thought of having to talk to him again. Her stomach seemed tied in a thousand painful knots, and every breath hitched in her throat. She had never been a confrontational person, but she could do it if she had to. Except for Vick. She couldn’t stand up to Vick.

She hesitated, her fingers over her keyboard for several seconds, while she tried to figure out what to say. Finally she wrote,
that’s not a good idea
.

Less than a minute later, he responded,
It’s about the divorce. They need more information.

Ivy frowned. Because of the restraining order and the military breathing down his neck, forcing him to behave, neither of them had gotten lawyers. They had done most of it online, which was a gazillion times cheaper and supposedly faster. They had a hearing scheduled with a judge right before Christmas — Ivy was allowed to be present via a phone call.

She bit her lip, glancing around the stadium. There wasn’t anyone near her for several feet in all directions, and no word yet from Archer. Sighing, she dialed the number.

“Hi.” His voice, as it always did, sounded arrogant and distinctly like she was bothering him, even though he had told her to call.

“What’s going on?” She tried to keep her voice steady. He thrived on her fear, fed off it, seemed to become invincible with it.

“What are you doing?” He ignored her question.

“I’m at a football game.” Her voice quivered this time. She closed her eyes, digging for strength.
He can’t hurt me. He can’t hurt me
.

“Where’s Desee?”