Page 79 of Shades of Silver City

We pull up outside my apartment complex, and Archer immediately opens the door.

“What’re you doing?” I ask.

He glances up toward the building, then back at me, brow furrowed. “Helping you get your stuff.”

“I don’t need your help,” I say, a little more harshly than I intended. Smooth, Tasia. I take a deep breath and try again, in a softer voice. “I only need to grab a couple of things, but thanks.”

Mostly my dad’s journal and the bear he left me. Maybe a few pairs of pants and my makeup. Archer’s clothes are surprisingly comfortable, and if I’m not going to be leaving the house anyway, I’m fine to lounge around in sweatpants.

Music and laughter filter out of the open windows and into the night. Archer’s jaw tightens as he glances toward the upper floors.

“I’m fine,” I say. “I’m a big girl.”

Godric snickers from the front seat. I meet his eyes in the rearview mirror, casting a glare at him. His snickering turns into a cough, which he covers with his hand before turning his head away.

“I know you can handle things on your own, Tasia, but it doesn’t mean you have to,” Archer says. He glances around the parking lot, clearly on edge. “Pixel hasn’t seen your photo around again, but it doesn’t mean you’re in the clear.”

“You’re the one who said I’d be fine,” I say, apparently not as over last night’s rejection as I’d like to pretend.

“If you stick by me,” he says.

“Just stay here… Please?”

He hesitates, then gives me a sharp nod and relents, shutting his door. “If you’re not down in fifteen, I’m coming up.”

The protectiveness in his tone causes me to grin despite myself. I lean across the back seat, placing a hand on his leg. He stiffens, staring at the place I’m touching him.

“I appreciate that, Archer. I’ll be quick.”

“I mean it,” he says, his voice low and raspy. “I won’t let anything happen to you.”

I protect what’s mine. The words he said to me last night echo in my mind and have me throbbing with lust again. My heart squeezes. Tamping down the mixed emotions, I exit the car and make my way to my apartment.

Just a few days ago, this was home. For better or worse, it’s no longer home. It never was, really, but now, even less so.

Sucking in a deep breath and smoothing down Archer’s shirt, I climb the stairs and enter the apartment.

Warm air blasts my face, ripe with the stench of sweat, sex, and alcohol, and I almost gag. People mingle in every inch of the apartment. I haven’t missed this at all. Music thumps loudly from a speaker by the couch. Only the dull light over the stove is on, barely illuminating the place.

Stace stands at the counter, bent over as she snorts something, her thick raven hair hiding her face like a curtain. Disappointment courses through me, then relief when I notice the powder is white and not a sparkling grey. A few people are packed into the tight space around her, chatting.

She quickly finishes her line, wiping her nose as she straightens. Her eyes meet mine, and a smile stretches across her face.

“Tasia!”

“Hey,” I say, giving her an awkward wave.

The people in the kitchen grow quiet and turn to stare at me with disconnected expressions. I glance around the apartment, finding a few familiar faces. Alisha is nowhere to be seen, but Reed sits on the couch, sipping out of my favorite mug and chatting with a pretty redhead.

Guess I’ll have to come back for that mug.

Or maybe I’ll just buy a new one now that I’m going to be making real money.

Gritting my teeth, I steel my spine and keep my head up as I confidently stride past Reed into my room.

I open the door and flick on the light, exhaling a relieved breath when I discover there’s no one in here. Shutting the door, I make quick work of gathering my things, snagging a duffle bag from the closet. I stuff in a couple of old band tees, an extra bra, a few pairs of jeans, and some underwear. Then, on top, I place my artist’s box containing all my oil pastels, pencils, and blending tools. Thankfully it’s small enough to fit.

The tools Archer gifted me are much higher quality, but I paid for these supplies with my own silvers, and I’m reluctant to leave them behind.

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