CHAPTER 30

Bree

The next day was the Pelion Police Memorial Parade. I stood in the window of the diner, blearily watching the cars and trucks go by, the people lined up on the sidewalk waving flags. I felt numb, heartsick, achy.

I hadn't slept very well. I'd felt Archer tossing and turning most of the night. When I had asked him in the morning if he couldn't sleep, he had just nodded, not offering more of an explanation.

He hadn't said much as we ate breakfast together and I got ready to head home to get my uniform for work and drop Phoebe off. He seemed lost in thought, still lost inside his own head and yet when I went to leave, he'd pulled me to him tightly.

"Archer, baby, talk to me," I'd said, not caring if it made me late for work.

He had just shaken his head, offering a smile that didn't reach his eyes and told me he'd see me after work and we'd talk some more.

And now I stood at the window, worried. The diner was mostly empty since the whole town was at the parade and so I could lose myself in my thoughts uninterrupted for a few minutes.

I watched the old fashioned police cruisers go by, the crowd cheering louder for the vintage cars, and a bitterness swept through me. Archer should be here. Archer should be at his father's memorial dinner. And he hadn't even been invited at all. What was wrong with this town? Victoria Hale, evil bitch extraordinaire, that's what was wrong with this town. How did someone like her live with herself? She had ruined so many lives–all for what? Money? Prestige? Power? Pride? Just to win?

And now the whole town bowed down to her out of fear of the repercussions.

As I stood there, thinking about everything that Archer had told me last night, my tummy turned and I felt like I was going to vomit. The reality of what it must have been like for a seven year old boy to be there that day was revolting, horrifying. I wanted to go back in time and hold him in my arms, comfort him, make it all go away. But I couldn't and it hurt.

I was snapped out of my thoughts by my phone vibrating in my uniform pocket. I pulled it out quickly and saw that it was a call coming in from Ohio. I walked back to the counter where a couple customers sat and stood off to the side near the break table as I took the call.

"Hello," I said softly.

"Bree, hi, this is Detective McIntyre. I was calling because I have some news."

I glanced back at the counter, noting everyone looked like they had what they needed and turned my back.

I distantly heard the bell over the door ring, but didn't turn. Maggie could take care of new customers until I was done.

"You have news, Detective?"

"Yes. We made an arrest."

I sucked in a breath. "You made an arrest?" I whispered.

"Yes. His name is Jeffrey Perkins. He's the man you identified. We brought him in for questioning and his print matched one we found at the scene. He lawyered up so he's not talking. His father owns a big Fortune Five Hundred company here in town."

I paused, biting my lip. "Jeffrey Perkins?" I asked. "His father is Louis Perkins isn't he?" I asked, closing my eyes, recognizing the last name of the man that owned one of the biggest insurance companies in Cincinnati.

The detective paused. "Yes."

"Why would someone like Jeffrey Perkins come in to rob a small deli?" I asked, feeling numb.

"I wish I could answer that," he said. "My best guess is that it was drug related."

"Hmm," I said, remembering Jeffrey's, shiny, dilated eyes and jitters. He had to have been on something. Rich boy with a bad drug habit? I shivered, shaking my head slightly to bring myself back to the present.

"What happens now, detective?"

"Well, he's out on bail. His arraignment is in a few months so now we just wait for that."

I paused for a minute. "Out on bail. So, more waiting." I sighed.

"I know. It's difficult. But, Bree, we have some really good evidence against him. And with your ID. I'm hopeful here."

I took a deep breath. "Thank you so much, Detective. Please keep me updated on anything else you might get?"

"Absolutely, I will. Have a good day."

"You too, Detective. Bye."

I hung up and stood with my back to the diner for another minute. This was good news, so why couldn't I feel the happiness, the relief, that I should be feeling? I stood biting my thumb nail, trying to figure myself out. Finally, I took a deep breath and turned around. Victoria Hale and Travis Hale were sitting at the end of the counter, just to the right of where I was standing.

My eyes widened, and I took in Victoria's icy stare and then Travis's furrowed brow.

I spun on my feet and called, "Maggie! I'm taking a small break. I don't feel so good."

Maggie turned to me with a worried look. "Okay, honey," she called as I rushed to the back and stayed there until Travis and Tori left the diner.

A little while after they'd left, I was wiping down a table near the window when I caught sight of Archer on the other side of the street. My heart started racing. "Maggie!" I called, "I'll be right back!"

"Oh, okay," I heard Maggie call, confused, from the break table where she was sitting and reading a magazine. She had to be wondering what was going on with me today.

I went out the front door and called to Archer. He was stopped on the side of the street, watching the police cruisers go by, a tight expression on his face. Had he been thinking the same thing I had been thinking?

As I was about to step off the curb, a hand grabbed my arm and I halted and turned slightly to see Travis. I looked to the left of him and Victoria Hale was standing there, trying to pretend I didn't exist, her eyes focused solely on the parade in front of her, a phony smile on her face and her nose in the air.

I looked over my shoulder at Archer who was now starting to walk across the street toward us.

"I have to go, Travis," I said attempting to pull away.

"Whoa, wait," he said, not letting go. "I overheard your phone call. I'm concerned. I just wanted to–"

"Travis, let me go," I said, my heart beating faster. This was the very last thing Archer needed right now.

"Bree, I know I'm not your favorite person, but if there's something I can do to help–"

"Let me go, Travis!" I yelled, wrenching my arm away. The crowd around us suddenly seemed to quiet slightly, eyes moving away from the parade traveling slowly down the street in front of them, and toward us.

Before I could spin around, a fist was flying at Travis's face and he went down hard, a spray of blood seeming to move in slow motion through the air in front of me. I gasped and so did Tori Hale and several people standing close by.

I looked over my shoulder and Archer was standing there, breathing hard, eyes big in his face, opening and closing his fist by his side.

I gaped at him and then looked back at Travis who was just standing up. His eyes filled with rage as he took Archer in. "You motherf*cker," Travis hissed, gritting his teeth.

"Travis!" Tori Hale exclaimed, her face not pulled quite tight enough to hide her alarm.

I brought my arms out between the two of them, but it was too late. Travis lurched around me and attacked Archer, and they both went down as people gasped and stumbled backwards, some tripping over the curb as others steadied them.

Archer got one more punch in before Travis flipped him harshly, Archer's back slamming onto the pavement with a loud thud. I watched as the air went out of him and he gritted his teeth. Travis swung at his face, connecting with his jaw.

I sobbed out, fear sweeping through my body like a quick-spreading forest fire.

"Stop!" I screamed! "Stop!" Travis lifted his hand and was just about to bring it down in Archer's face again. Oh God, he was going to pulverize him into the ground, right here in front of everyone, in front of me. Everything inside my body seemed to speed up, my heart beating loudly in my own ears, and my pulse rate skyrocketing. "Stop!" I yelled, my voice hitching on a sob. "You're brothers! Stop this!"

Time seemed to freeze as Travis's fist stopped in mid-air and Archer's eyes flew to me. I heard Tori inhale sharply. "You're brothers," I said again, tears running down my face now. "Please don't do this. Today is about your father. He wouldn't want this. Please. Please stop."

Travis pushed on Archer's chest, but got off of him and stood up. Archer stood up quickly too, rubbing his jaw and looking around him at all the people gawking. The expression on his face was a pure mixture of confusion, rage, and fear, all three taking turns flashing in his golden brown eyes.

Another pair of golden brown eyes found mine as Travis pushed Archer out of his way, but not very hard. "We're not brothers. We're cousins," he said, looking at me like I was crazy.

I shook my head, my eyes trained on Archer who wasn't looking at me. "I'm sorry, Archer," I said. "I didn't mean to blurt it out. I'm sorry," I whispered. "I wish I could take it back."

"What the f*ck is this?" Travis asked.

"Let's go!" Tori Hale screeched to Travis. "He's an animal!" she spit out, pointing at Archer. "They're crazy, both of them. I won't listen to a second more of this nonsense." She attempted to pull on Travis's arm, but he shook her off easily.

He looked at her closely, something seeming to register in his eyes, some understanding seeming to occur.

"Well, that kind of thing is easily enough proven with a simple blood test," Travis said evenly, his eyes looking into his mother's. Tori blanched and turned her head. Travis watched her.

"Oh, Jesus," he said. "It's true. You knew."

"I don't know any such thing!" she said, but her voice sounded hysterical.

"I thought so," another voice came from the crowd and I swiveled my head to see Mandy Wright walking toward us. "The minute I saw your eyes looking up at me from your mama's arms, I thought so. Those are Connor Hale's eyes–your daddy's eyes," Mandy whispered, her gaze focused on Archer. I closed my eyes, more tears falling down my cheeks.

Oh God.

"That's it!" Tori shouted. "If you're not leaving, I am. That's my husband you're talking about! And of all days to tarnish his memory–you all should be ashamed of yourselves." She pointed a red polished, bony finger at each of us individually, that same icy glare on her face. And with that, she turned and pushed her way through the crowd.

I looked at Travis briefly, but then my eyes moved back to Archer. Archer looked at me once, then at Travis and Mandy and finally at the crowd, all eyes trained on us. Panic swept his expression and I realized that people were gaping at him, whispering. My heart lurched and I took a step toward him, but he took a step back, his eyes moving through the crowd again.

"Archer," I said, reaching for him. He turned and started pushing to get through the mostly still crowd of people. I stopped, dropping my hand to my side and hanging my head.

"Bree?" Travis said and I glared at him.

"Don't," I said through gritted teeth. Then I turned away from him and ran back to the diner. Maggie was standing at the door.

"Go after him, honey," she said gently, putting her hand on my shoulder. She'd obviously seen the whole thing. The whole town had.

I shook my head. "He needs time to himself," I said. I wasn't sure how I knew that. I just did.

"Okay," Maggie said, "well, go home at least. It's dead today anyway."

I nodded my head. "Thank you, Maggie."

"Of course, honey."

"I'm going to go out the back. My car's in the alley so I can get out without running into blocked-off streets."

Maggie nodded, sympathy shining from her kind eyes. "If you need anything at all, you call me," she said. I conjured up a small smile.

"I will."

I drove home like a homing pigeon, not even remembering the drive once I got there. I dragged myself into my cottage and collapsed on the couch and when Phoebe jumped up on my lap and started licking my face, the tears began to fall. How had everything gotten so messed up in the course of a couple days?

I felt like Archer was a ticking time bomb, ready to blow at any minute. I wanted to help him through it, but I wasn't sure how. I felt helpless, unequipped. I wiped the tears away and sat there for a while longer, trying to come up with a solution.

Maybe we needed to get away from this town–just throw our stuff in my car and drive away somewhere new. God, that sounded familiar. Wasn’t that exactly the idea Connor Hale had had too? And look how that turned out. Not well.

And anyway, how would that make Archer feel? He was already struggling with the fact that he didn't feel like a real man. How would it make him feel when I got a job somewhere new and he sat around in some apartment all day? At least here he had his land, his projects, his house, his lake…

Although now, I'd probably ruined it for him. My face crumbled with the guilt that washed over me. It'd taken him so long to feel comfortable enough to leave his house and now he was going to feel like hiding on his property again–worried that people would be whispering and staring at him, judging his disability, making him feel less-than.

After a few minutes, I got up wearily and took Phoebe out and then returned inside and took a shower, my mind still turning over what had happened at the parade. I needed to go to him and apologize. I hadn't meant to blurt out the secret he hadn't wanted told. But I had. And now he was the one who was going to have to live with the consequences if there were any.

I pulled on some warm clothes, unable to shake the chill that felt like it went down to my bones, and dried my hair slowly.

I laid down on my bed and let the sadness wash over me again. I was weak and I couldn't see any optimism in the situation, other than the fact that I loved Archer desperately. I thought maybe it was because I was so insanely tired. Maybe I just needed to rest for a few minutes…

I opened my eyes what I thought was a few minutes later and glanced at the clock. Oh God, I had slept for two hours. I bolted up and smoothed my hair back.

I needed to go to Archer. He would be wondering why I hadn't come directly to him. He had turned away from me… but I had given him a few hours time. Hopefully, he was in a better place now. God, please don't be angry with me, I thought, as I got in my car and started the engine.

A few minutes later, I was walking through his gate and down to his house. I knocked and turned the knob and utter silence greeted me, the twilight outside the window just barely lighting the room in front of me.

"Archer?" I called, an ominous feeling rushing through my body. I shook it off and called again, "Archer?" Nothing.

It was then that I saw the letter propped up on the table behind the couch with my name written on it.

With shaking hands, I picked it up and unfolded it, fear enveloping my body.

Bree,

Don't blame yourself–what happened at the parade today wasn't your fault. It was mine, all mine.

I'm leaving, Bree. I'm taking my uncle's truck. I don't know where I'm going yet, but I need to go somewhere. I need to figure things out, and maybe even learn a little bit more about who I can be in the world–if I can be anyone at all. The very thought of it is filling me with fear, but staying here–feeling the things I'm feeling– seems like the more terrifying alternative. I know that's hard to understand. I don't even fully understand it myself.

I thought I lost you twice, and just the possibility destroyed me. Do you know what I did when you were just a few minutes late and I heard the ambulances going toward your house? I threw up on my lawn and then I took off running to you. It scared me to death. And the thing is, there's always going to be something–not just an ambulance, but the day you're late coming home from work, or the guy who flirts with you, or… a million different scenarios I can't even fathom right now. There's always going to be something that threatens to take you away from me, even if it's something small, and even if it's only in my own mind. And eventually, that's going to be the thing that destroys us. I'll start hurting you because you won't be able to fix me–you'll never be able to reassure me enough. You'll just end up resenting me because you'll constantly have to carry the weight for both of us. I can't let that happen. I asked you not to let me destroy what we have together, but I don't think I'm capable of doing anything else.

Last night, after you fell asleep, I couldn't stop thinking about the story you told me about the embroidery pictures your mom used to make. And I've been thinking about that today, too–and I want to believe so badly that what you said is true–that something beautiful can come from all the ugliness and mess–from all the pain, from all the things that have made me who I am. I want to see what's on the other side. But I think in order to do that, I need to be the one to turn it around. I need to be the one to take those steps. I need to be the one to understand how it all comes together, how it all makes sense–what my own picture looks like.

I'm not asking you to wait for me–I'd never be that selfish. But please don't hate me. I never, ever want to hurt you, but I'm no good to you. I'm no good to anyone right now, and I need to learn if maybe I can be.

Please understand. Please know that I love you. Please forgive me.

Archer

My hands were shaking like leaves now and tears were coursing down my cheeks. I let out a sob and dropped the letter, bringing my hand to my mouth.

Sitting under the letter was a set of keys, his phone, and a receipt for dog boarding for an open-ended amount of time. I let out another sob and fell down on the couch–the same couch where Archer had rocked me on his lap after saving me from his uncle's trap, the same couch where he had kissed me for the very first time. I sobbed into the pillow, wanting him back, wanting to hear his footsteps coming through the door behind me so desperately, I felt the longing in every cell of my body. But the house remained silent around me, broken only by the sounds of my choking sobs.