Page 134 of Beautiful Thing

“You heard me,” Archer says, effortlessly elbowing his way between my ex and me. “Layla is mine now.”

Razor twists up his nose in disgust like someone just served him a week-old tuna fish sandwich. “She’s your…g-girlfriend?” he asks, incredulous.

“She’s mywoman,” Archer corrects him.

His log-like arm slips around my waist. And my traitorous body must have amnesia because every part of me responds on an electrical level to his touch.

But why is Archer saying I’m his? The wedding is over now. He can go back to life as usual. No more pretending. No more faking. For a second, his words give me hope.

Archer goes on, his glare on my ex. “So from now on, you will not look at her, you will not talk to her, you will not even utter her name without getting my permission first. Do you understand me?”

My ex stomps his foot like a petulant child. “But Layla is—”

Archer doesn’t even let him finish. He releases me and grabs a fistful of Razor’s collar. “Oops! There you go, saying her name without my permission. What did I just tell you about doing that?”

Razor’s skin flushes redder. His lips flap wordlessly as he struggles to respond.

“Yeah, that’s right,” Archer grinds out. “Keep your mouth shut. With the state of your gums, the only person you should be opening your mouth for is your dentist.”

Razor’s shocked eyes zip to me, like he expects me to speak up in his defense or something.

Lifting onto my tiptoes, I kiss Archer’s cheek, playing up the whole lovestruck girlfriend thing. “Looks like Sky and I found a happy ending after all. Without you.” I shrug a shoulder.

Razor has the nerve to look betrayed.

Archer makes a dismissive waving motion. “Get the fuck out of here, Razor. And if I ever see your face near Sky or Layla again, I’m sending you headfirst into the nearest dumpster. Where you belong. Do you hear me?”

Razor doesn’t answer. He only stares at me in disbelief.

Archer’s fingers snap in front of his face, grabbing his attention. “I don’t want to have to hurt you, Razor. If I have to go to jail for snapping your neck, who’s going to be a dad to Sky? Who’s going to love Layla and cherish her and fuck her the way she always deserved to be loved and cherished and fucked? You see,youmay not have a purpose in life, but I definitely do. Making Layla happy is it.” Archer grips Razor’s collar again, lifting him up onto his tiptoes. “Tell me you’ll stay away from my woman and her son.”

Razor nods, jaw clenched and eyes full of tears. “Yes. I’ll stay away.”

Archer releases him with a hard shove. “Good. Now, get out of here.”

My head is swimming.Oh my god. Archer just lifted my baby daddy off the ground—with one hand—and made him cry.

Razor’s face pinches, and he looks like he’s going to say something else, but then he turns, trips on the curb, almost falls on his face, and runs off down the street. I don’t even see a car. There’s no telling how he got here or where he’s going.

I’m just glad he’s gone.

By the time he disappears around the corner, Archer takes a step closer to me. His big, warm palm cups my cheek, his worried eyes searching mine. “Are you okay?”

I allow myself to sink into the gentle caress of his rough hand. But then I remember where things stand between us and it pierces my soul like a spear.

“Thank you,” I say to Archer, stepping back and squeezing his forearm. Then I turn and head inside to get Sky.

55

LAYLA

Karli, Ziggy and Inez all stand in the doorway of my new bedroom. Or, my old bedroom. Depends on how I look at it.

Either way it’s strange to be back here.

“Wow, Razor is an even bigger pig than I thought,” Karli remarks, plugging her nose.

“Who lives like this?” Inez mumbles, looking around the place in horror.

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