Page 43 of Turning Tides
Shane
I arrived as Cyruswas pulling out of the driveway. I didn’t bother knocking because they’d been expecting me, but I called out when I stepped inside. I brought a case of beer from a small brewery that wanted me to carry their product and I was going to have Marshall and Cyrus help me test it out.
“Hey, man. Where’s Cyrus going? Is he skipping out on us?” I knew Cyrus had planned to invite Archer, but I didn’t want to come across as too eager to see him.
“He went to get Archer.” Marshall was in the kitchen constructing some kind of charcuterie board that would please most twelve year-olds. It was nothing but junk food. Chips and cookies and frosting to dip them in.
“What’s this?” I asked, motioning to the sugar platter as I passed by on my way to the fridge to store the beer.
“Archer’s favorites. Some of them. I’m going to make the little hotdogs he likes too.” Marshall looked at me with a pinched expression. “When Cyrus called to invite him over, he’d just gotten off the phone with his old business partner.”
“The one who ripped him off and then disappeared?”
“That’s the one. Cyrus said Archer sounded upset.”
“I wondered why he was backing out of here like his ass was on fire.”
Worry snaked through me. My phone remained silent in my pocket. I was annoyed that Archer hadn’t told me, even though it had clearly just happened. Knowing that I could check in with him later made me feel a little better.
“If I ever see Clayton the creep again, I’m going to gut him like a fish,” Marshall said. I could tell from the look on his face that he wasn’t exactly joking. Not that he would do it, but he wouldn’t mourn Clayton if it actually happened.
“I’ll be your alibi.” I eyed the various snack trays that Marshall had put together. “Do you need any help?”
“No, I think that’s good.” He folded his arms over his chest. “I worry about him like he’s my own brother, you know. Cyrus and I have been together for what feels like forever, and I’ve always liked Archer. I’d move heaven and earth to help him.”
I knew the feeling all too well. I had half a mind to dig around and find out who exactly this Clayton guy was. If money made him leave the first time, then money surely would make him leave again. Only… I knew types like Clayton. If you gave in once, they’d be back again. They circled money like sharks sensing blood in the water.
“Archer’s going to do a tattoo for me.” I told Marshall out of desperation to change the subject. If Archer walked in and we were talking about him, I wanted it to be good things. Things that wouldn’t make us clam up when we saw him.
“Oh yeah? He did one for me when he was apprenticing. It turned out amazing.” Marshall lifted his pant leg to reveal a phoenix on his calf.
It wasn’t like I’d never seen it before, but knowing Archer did it years ago made me see it in a new light. He was talented even as an apprentice.
“I’ve been thinking about getting another, but I haven’t decided yet. I’m not a fan of the healing process to be honest. What are you getting?”
Leaning over, I snatched a cookie from the tray. “I don’t know. He hasn’t told me yet.”
“He hasn’t told you?” Marshall asked, visibly confused.
“I lost a friendly bet.” A very friendly bet, but the less Marshall knew about that, the better. “And as the winner, he gets to design my tattoo.”
“You’re insane. I love Archer, but I’d never let him do that to me.”
I shrugged and stuffed the cookie in my mouth to prevent me from confessing that I loved Archer too, just in a different way than Marshall loved him.
“I trust him. It’s not like he’d do a bad job or give me a stupid tattoo. He’s really talented.”
Really talented was a shitty way to describe how skilled he was. How hard working he was. I saw the way he threw himself into his work. The way he was always trying to hone his skills and learn new ones. For the first time, I wondered if tattooing had been his first choice of careers, or if it had been one to better guarantee him an income.
An idea formed in my head, but Cyrus and Archer walking in the door made me push it aside. I’d think about it some more and if I brought it up, it wasn’t going to be around Cyrus and Marshall.
As nonchalantly as I could, I greeted Archer. Already I hated that I couldn’t cross the room and cradle his face in my hands and kiss his sadness away. I had to stand on the other side of the room and act casual. My feelings for Archer were anything but.
“There’s beer in the fridge. It’s from a micro brewery. They want me to carry it, and you’re my panel of testers.”
“He means we’re his guinea pigs,” Cyrus shot, his lip curling. “If it’s anything like that last swill, I’m going to end you, Taggart.”
“This is why I need your help. Your palate is much more refined than mine.”
