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She huffed and scowled. If she wasn't careful, she'd push him too far and end up with a sore ass for her troubles. "Fine. Well, in that case, I'll leave you two to hash out all the manly details without the pitiful female getting in your way." She stomped off in frustration, taking her coffee with her. She hoped Jasper was watching her scantily-clad ass flounce away, because he wouldn't be taking advantage of it later.
She headed straight upstairs to get dressed. After putting the mug down on the bedside table, she chose a pair of loose black jeans, long-sleeved shirt, and purple hoody from her dwindling supply of clean clothes. She shimmied out of her panties, only to find she didn’t have clean ones left—oh well, commando it would have to be for today.
The ensemble summed up her at-home work attire and screamed comfort, as did the fluffy pink socks she pulled on to warm her cold feet. She'd gotten so involved with the drama downstairs, she'd forgotten all about the chill in the room.
As she began packing up her stuff and folding everything into her bag so it would fit, she couldn't help but wonder how she'd cope under the strain of being kidnapped and essentially held for ransom. She thought of herself as strong, independent, and liked to believe that under those circumstances, she would be able to hold her head up high and withstand whatever came at her.
But she wasn't naïveenough to think that her daydreams would stand up in the face of reality. If someone struck her in her fantasy, she could imagine the pain, but it wasn't real. Telling herself she'd hit back was all well and good, but in truth, would she have the guts?
Maybe not.
Atticus had made the point that Dominic would probably use her for entertainment purposes until Jasper showed up to rescue her, then they'd both be screwed. If that happened, they would both disappear off the face of the earth, used to breed a child for the bastard's sick training, then more than likely killed and disposed of.
Of course, Atticus—resourceful man that he was—would swoop in and save them, but how much damage would be done before he managed to break into the mansion and rescue them?
Archie found her hairbrush and ran it quickly through her hair as she tried not to dwell on images of being used for a monster's fun time. She loved her kink time with Jasper, but she figured whatever Dominic did to her would be less about her pleasure and more about his. A shudder rippled through her.
All this time, she'd sympathized with Boadicea for having a shitty childhood with horrible parents who hadn't deserved her or Alicia, and here was Jasper, suffering in silence without a word to anyone. Archie found she wanted to eradicate his past for him—not that she was in any position to do so—and spend a week just cuddling him, giving him everything he hadn't had.
It was little wonder he'd never jumped into a relationship.
She tossed the hairbrush into the bag, gave the room a thorough once-over to make sure she hadn't missed anything. Braun's hospitality meant a lot to her—her friends had taken her in without hesitation at a bad time in her life—and she was going to leave the room exactly how it had been before she crashed into their personal space. Satisfied she had everything, she zipped up her bag and dropped it by the door, then turned to start stripping the bed.
Dirty linens off, clean ones on, a quick vacuum, and all would be right again, she thought.
Checking the time on the bedside clock, she noted it was after eight a.m. Maybe she should send Bodie a text and see how she was doing. Would Braun let her have her phone? There was no reason he wouldn't, that Anarchy could think of, but Dom brains seemed to work on a higher, more complicated level sometimes.
It wouldn't hurt anyone to text her friend, she decided. It was more personal than asking Braun; at least Bodie would feel as though she wasn't being kept in a bubble controlled by her Dom and the doctors.
Picking up her phone, she sat on the edge of the bed and pulled up her last conversation with Bodie.
Good morning, Bodie! How are you feeling, sweetie?Send.
Three little dots popped up.
Exhausted. Had a long night but drugs seem to be working. Hopefully coming home soon!
Archie grinned, relief swamping her. Part of her was afraid the doctors would keep her friend in for another night, and that wouldn't bode well for her mental and emotional state. Brilliant news! We'll be here when you get back. Is there anything you want getting ready?
Dot, dot, dot. You're our guest, Archie. You're not there to run around after me. I just want to be home, crashing on the couch, away from all these crazy nurses wielding needles. I hate it here.
I know, Bodie. It won't be long before you and the baby are home. Get some rest and we'll see you soon, okay?
Hopefully sooner rather than later!was the emphatic reply.
"Something brought a smile to those lips I love," Jasper drawled from the doorway, making her gasp and jump.
Christ, she hadn't seen him lurking there, all naked and deliciously accessible. Reminding herself she was not pleased with him, she focused on the blank screen of her phone and sniffed. "Am I to assume you and Master Atticus have finished your man-to-man talk?"
He chuckled. "That really pissed you off, didn't it? Sorry, kitten, but I refuse to have you tangled up in that shit. Atticus and his team seem adept at their jobs, but if anything goes wrong, I don't want it to blow back on you." He sauntered in, eyes intent on her face. "It's not a matter of excluding you. It's about keeping you safe and blood off your hands."
Archie ran her tongue around her teeth. Well, that was confirmation enough. "So, his death warrant is signed, then."
Jasper crouched in front of her, his hands on her knees. From wrists to shoulders, his ink was a startling exclamation of war and death, famine and pestilence. "Dominic's influence will be cut short, yes. Once we have everything we need, we'll move in and finish it." He ran his palms up her thighs. "You're more concerned about him than you are about your own safety, aren't you? I wish you weren't."
"Bad men get away with bad deeds." She tossed the phone onto the bed. "It's wrong. Atticus has me covered, right? So we can concentrate on more important things, like wiping monsters off the map."
"There is no wein this, Anarchy."
