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“You and I are fighting,” he grunts. “Tim is making mistakes. Fletch isclearly not completely focused on the job right now. And our killer is two for two in less than two days. So if you tell me I’m making the wrong choice, then I’ll believe you.” He brings his hands up, grabbing mine and cupping them in his palms. It’s almost reverent. Worshipful, even. “You’re smart, Minka. You’re clinical on the job. You assess a situation without emotion and you make the right decisions. So tell me what you want me to do, and I’ll change the whole fucking world to make it fit.”
“You’re asking me to be clinical.” I bring our joined hands up and press a kiss to his knuckles. “But you’re my husband. I can’t see past my heart on this one.”
“Babe—”
“I’m worried because I love you. And for you alone, I would set the world on fire. I cannot live without you, so I’m anxious every single time you strap those guns to your body and walk out the door. Every single time, Archer. But now we have this other case, and those things we expect to protect you have become redundant. Add in that I’m leaving tomorrow, which means the worry I already carryoverflows. So now I’m picking fights and being called the office bitch. Ican’tbe clinical about this.”
“Tell me what to do,” he begs. “If you insist I get on that plane with you tomorrow, then that’s what I’ll do. It’s what Tim wants. It’s what Felix wants. We could probably convince Fletch to pack up and come with us, too.”
“But then your killer continues to walk free.” I hate that he puts this on me. That he’ll make me choose for us all. So when the consequences come, whatever they are, they’re on me. “Come to New York, and then your killer executes more cops. But tell you to stay,” I sigh. “And I risk one of those cops being you.”
“I can’t pass the case on. I won’t be that guy; too afraid to do his job, so then I hand it off to someone else like their life matters less than mine.”
I unravel my hands from his and wrap my arms around his torso instead, resting my face on his shoulder and my lips against his neck. Too warm, despite the cold outside. His heart thunders loud enough to become a drum in my ear, while mine… well, it breaks.
“Minka?”
“Stay.” My voice catches. Emotion clogs my throat, and with it, like a horrifying glimpse into a future that doesn’t yet exist, grief comes too. “Just because I worry about you doesnotmean I think you’re incapable of doing the job. Fletch will continue to run the case, whether you’re here or not. You and he are a team, too. Just like you and me. And just because Iwantyou in New York with me, doesn’t mean Ineedyou there with me. Together, you’re stronger.”
“I’ll call every hour,” he croaks. “I promise. I’ll text you, and you’ll text me. I’ll call you every night and lie with you till you sleep. And I even made Felix promise to leave you alone.”
I choke out a teary laugh. “The hero I didn’t know I needed. Thank you.”
“I’ll put you on that plane myself. And I’ll pick you up when you arrive back in Copeland a few days later.”
“I’m counting on it.” Pulling back, I bring my hands up and hold his face. “If you’re not waiting at the airport for me with a big, stupid smile on your face andnofresh injuries, I’m gonna be pissed.”
He nods. Soft and sad and still, he drags me closer until we’re almost nose to nose. “I’ll be there.”
“You’ve got this.”
“This case?” His eyes flick between mine. “Yeah, I’ve got this. And you’ve got your trip. You can take a couple of nights in your old city, looking out at Manhattan and remembering your life before me.”
“Then I’ll come back, knowing I belong here.”
“Good.” He plops a kiss on the center of my lips, while over my shoulder, the soft opening of a door alerts me to our new audience. “Fuck off, Cato.”
“Just checking our domestic disturbance has been dealt with.”
I pull back from Archer and glance over my shoulder to find the teen leaning against the doorframe, one foot lifted and his hand buried deep in a bag of Lays.
“I gotta say,” he taunts, “I thought leaving New York meant I’d see fewer arguments between a Malone and his woman. But here I am, young, impressionable, and already traumatized, living amongst the drama.”
“I’m leaving him behind, too.” I take Archer’s hand and turn to finish our trek home. “I have absolutely no issue with leaving the state and being somewhereother thanwhere Cato Malone is.”
“You’re being hurtful, Doc.” He flashes a crumby smile as I roll my eyes and pass through the door. “Why do you insist on hurting my feelings?”
“It just comes so naturally to me, I suppose.”
“You’re turning it into a degradation kink.” He follows us in as I release Archer’s hand and shed my coat to hang it on the hook. Slamming the door, he resumes his pose, but on this side of the frame instead. “Next time I’m with a girl and she says something mean to me, I’m gonna blow my load and know it was because of how you’ve treated me.”
“That’s enough of that.” Archer grabs his brother, pulling him away fromthe door. Then he yanks it open, deposits the youngest Malone in the hall, then he slams the wood shut once more, so the walls rattle and the boy on the other side grumbles. “I don’t know that I’m gonna survive being here with him without you giving me something to focus on.”
“Lock yourself in our room and call me.” Grinning, I head to the fridge and take out my Factor pack. Two glass vials; one filled with liquid and the other with powder. I grab the tourniquet from the container on top of the fridge, then fresh needles, tubing, and tape.
Infusing my medication every second day has been a routine I’ve known since before I was old enough to speak full sentences. I’ve been doing the whole thing, from disinfecting to inserting needles and infusing Factor since I was in elementary school. And now, Archer has grown so used to the procedure, he knows to roll up his sleeves, clean his hands, and prepare me a meal.
Because once I slide the medication into my veins, chances are, I’m going to want to sleep.
