Page 68 of Grumpy Billionaire Bad Boy

A siren sounds in the distance but I pay it no attention other than registering it in my awareness. This man might be afraid of the police, but I'm not.

"I'm going to give you to the count of three," I tell him. "One…"

"Please, please, no."

"Two."

"I'm begging you, I don't know anything, I'd talk if I could."

"Three," I mutter as I pull the trigger, the sound deafening and the reverberation rippling up my forearm.

His body thuds against the floor of Ruth's shop, his blood splattered around and pooling on the linoleum.

"Sorry about the floor," I say to Ruth, who stands there on the other side of the counter.

"That's okay, Archie." She offers me an apologetic smile and steps around the side to take in the dead body bleeding out.

With the gun still in my hand, I return to the aisle I left London in, shock settling through me when she's still there. "Holy shit, you listened," I tell her as I round the corner.

She stands, her emerald gaze locked onto mine. "Did you just kill someone?" London marches right past me, stopping in her tracks when she locates the body.

"Uh," is all I respond, the realization that I murdered someone in front of her hitting me like a ton of bricks.

"What are we going to do about that?" London glances back at me, her face scanning mine for answers.

"It was self-defense," Ruth blurts out. "He was robbing the shop, Archie stepped in and took things into his own hands. He's a hero. That's my story and I'm sticking to it."

London's brows bunch and she brings her hand to her chest. "I wasn't blaming Archer." She meets my gaze again. "I wouldn't do that. You know that, right?"

Truth be told, I practically blacked out when the threat appeared, the old version of me stepping into my shoes and doing what needed to be done, but now that I've returned, I don't know what to expect from London. Sure, she's familiar with crime and danger, but maybe I just took things entirely too far. Just because I'm used to this life, doesn't mean she is, too.

"Archer," London murmurs.

I slide my phone out of my pocket and flick the screen to life, dialing a number I haven't dialed in a while. It rings twice before it connects, a thick voice on the other side.

"Officer Robinson."

"I need you to send a small team to Ruth's place on the corner. The usual guys, no one else."

A slight pause is followed by, "How many?"

"One," I tell him.

"I'll personally see to it."

"Thanks," I say before hanging up and looking over the gun in my hand, noting the serial number that was filed down on the side. I let out a breath and focus on Ruth. "Someone should be here soon to clean this up. Are you okay?"

"Of course, Archie, I'm fine. Are you okay?" Ruth reaches out toward London. "You okay, honey?"

"Yeah, I'm fine," London says, her voice strangely calm.

Maybe she's in shock. Maybe she's waiting for the opportunity to bolt out of here and never come back.

But instead, she opens her mouth again. "What about the groceries?"

"What?" I ask her, not quite following.

"We came here for stuff for the apartment."

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