Page 186 of A Million To Fall

I nod slowly.

“Last night, at Archer’s, I got a text message from my mom,” he starts. “Total accident. She recalled it a minute later, but it was too late. I’d already seen it. And so had Archer.”

“What did it say?” I whisper.

Jake hesitates, eyes flicking to Boston, then back to me. “It said something about a girls’ night,” he says. “She attached two pictures.”

I raise my eyebrows, waiting. Jake exhales, then turns to me. “They were of her and—”

A soft, uneven breath pulls my attention away from Jake.

I turn just in time to see Boston’s hand move. Barely. Just a small flex of his fingers.

“Boss?” I whisper, already leaning forward.

Jake freezes next to me, like even breathing might interrupt whatever’s happening.

For a moment, nothing happens.

Then, his eyes crack open.

I gasp, breath hitching. My hand flies to Boston’s and this time, I don’t deny myself.

“Boss?” I repeat.

He looks out of it, lids heavy, eyes fixed on the ceiling at first. Then, slowly—almost painfully so—they drift to mine.

And stop.

“Am I dead?”

His voice is rough. Faint. Barely there. It breaks my chest open anyway.

Jake chuckles dryly. “You wish, man,” he says, resting a hand on Boston’s forearm. “How are you feeling?”

Boston’s eyes drag from mine to Jake, then back again. His expression shifts—confusion, to awareness, to something sharper.

“Not dead,” he rasps. His brow furrows slightly as his gaze locks on mine again.

“Your fiancé isn’t going to like this.”

My stomach squeezes.

I blink, swallow, then shake my head.

“Not my fiancé,” I croak. “I… broke it off. Archer and I are done,” I say, like I’ve already said a hundred times today.

Something flickers behind his eyes. Hope, maybe?

“What?”

I force a smile. “Archer and I are… no more.” The smile falters instantly.

“Why?” he asks, gray eyes searching.

I feel my insides go soft. “I saw what he did,” I say with a tiny shrug. “To you. And after that…” Another shrug. “I just can’t pretend anymore, Boss. He said it was self-defense, but I know better.”

“No,” Boston says, the word rough, immediate. “It was. It was self-defense. Jake and Archer—they… I—”