Page 79 of Sinful Seduction
“Will you sing for me?” He cuddles in again, crushing me impossibly closer. “I liked that.”
“Don’t tell anyone.” I stroke his hair and hum, contentment sitting like a bubble in my belly. Growing. Expanding. Sweet. “People will think I have a heart.”
He snickers, soft and almost silent. “Can’t have that.”
My phone vibrates…somewhere. On the floor, maybe. The noise muffled against whatever it landed on.
“No.” He squeezes me tighter, clinging to our pre-dawn aloneness. “I don’t wanna.”
“Archer—”
“No.” He huffs, childlike and pure. “Not getting it.”
I extend my arm, patting the mattress and the air after the drop off. But I can’t reach. “Time’s up, Detective. The real world is knocking.”
He shoves to his back with a harrumph and pats the floor blindly. Then, when he finds the device, he swings back around, places it on my belly, and closes his eyes again. “Your phone, your problem.”
I pick it up and turn it over, expecting to find Aubree’s name on thescreen. Or the George Stanley. Or Felix. Or Cato, purely because he heard us awake, and he gets off on annoying me. Or, less likely, though possible, the mayor wants to chat.
Instead, I’m met with the hospital’s number, and just like that, my relaxation dissipates.
Frenzied, I answer and slam the device to my ear. “Steve? Hey? You okay?”
Archer moves to his elbow, no longer sleepy-eyed, and holds my gaze.
“Steve?” I try again, my voice catching as worry chews me up from the inside. “This better be you and not a surgeon calling me with bad news.”
“D-Doctor Mayet?” A woman’s voice… a girl’s voice… trickles through the line. “Is this Doctor Mayet?”
“Yes.” I push up and tuck loose locks of hair behind my ear. “This is Mayet. Who is this?”
“This is Molly Freemon. The… uh… I need to speak to Detective Malone, but I don’t…” She sniffles. “I don’t know his number. He’s your husband, right? He’s?—”
“Yeah. He’s my husband.” Frowning, I drag the phone from my ear and tap the speaker button instead. “Hang on a second, Molly. I’ll pop Detective Malone on the line.”
She whimpers, soft and scared. “O-okay.”
Archer twists onto his back and sits up, leaning against the headboard. Fully awake now, he takes the phone and snags my wrist when I attempt to turn and drape my legs over the side of the mattress. I want to get up, but he places his hand over my thigh and shakes his head.
Stay. Listen.
“Hi, Molly.” He leaves the call on speaker, licking his lips and frowning in the darkness. “This is Detective Malone. Are you okay?”
“I shot him, Detective. I shot Ben.” Explosive and desperate, she releases a bursting sob that ricochets along the line. “I need you to come and arrest me before my dad wakes up and does something really stupid.”
“Okay, well…” Far gentler than he usually is when receiving a confession, Archer’s eyes flicker to mine. There’s no thrill of the hunt like there usually is. No aggressive arrogance, like he typically feels when catching a killer. “Don’t jump too far ahead, okay? I’m not gonna arrest you yet. But I’d like to come to the hospital to talk to you. Is that alright?”
She wipes her nose, sniffling noisily. “Now?”
“In a second, yeah. You have a right to a lawyer being present, Molly. And to have your parents there.”
“Not my parents,” she cries. “Please don’t call them. Once my dad finds out, he’s going to go crazy.”
“At you? Are you afraid?”
“At you!” she groans. “At the world. At everyone, except me. I’m afraid he’ll get hurt trying to fix this. Or he’ll tell youhedid it, to get me out of trouble. Or he’ll?—”
“Alright. It’s alright, Molly.” Scrubbing his hand over his jaw, Archer looks up at the ceiling and exhales. “I’m gonna grab a shower and head over, okay? I’ll be about thirty minutes. I want you to use those thirty minutes to really think this through. Decide on your reasons for what happened. Call a friend. Call Tori,” he decides. “She’ll help. And if you need, I can get you a Legal-Aid lawyer to sit in with us. I’ll bring Detective Fletcher, too, okay?”
