A moment later he pulled back with a snarl of frustration. "Kiss me back, you stubborn bitch."
Somehow his grip on my arm had loosened, and I yanked it free, bringing it up to crack my hand across his face. As wet as his face and my hand both were, the smack landed harder than even I'd intended, making my palm tingle and bringing a pink flush to his flesh.
"Call me a bitch one more time, D'Ath. I'll make you regret the day you ever laid eyes on me." I meant every damn word, and he knew it.
His lip curled in a sneer. "Maybe I already do."
I gave him a bitter laugh in return, rolling my eyes. "Cut the pity-party bullshit, Sunshine. You break everything you touch, then punish everyone around you for your own self-loathing and loneliness. It's no one's fault but your own, so how about you start accepting a little culpability for your fucked up actions?" My words were backed up by a shove to his chest, which gave me enough space to maneuver away from his grip.
Or so I’d thought. He let me go just far enough that I thought I'd escaped, then reeled me back in, tighter than ever, like a spider wrapping its prey.
"What do you think I'm doing?" he demanded in a frustrated growl. "I'm trying to fix things. I'm trying to open up and show my hand. But you... you don't make it easy."
My back was to his chest now, and his fingers banded around my wrists, locking my arms across my chest like a straightjacket. We were both soaked from the rain to the point of dripping, but neither one of us paid it any mind. It was the perfect setting for this explosion of hurt.
"It's easier than you think, you caveman son of a bitch," I snapped back, breathing heavily as I struggled in his grip. "Admit you lied. Apologize. And mean it."
He released me abruptly, almost letting me fall face first into the mud.
"It's that easy, huh?" he scoffed, bitter as a lemon.
I spun around to face him, my arms spread wide. "It's that easy."
My hair was pasted to my face, my arms, and my back like a wetsuit and my makeup was probably halfway down my face, but I felt weirdly free standing there screaming insults at my husband.
He glowered at me like he was seriously cursing the day our life lines had touched. Then he sighed, his shoulders deflating some of that big dick energy away.
"You're right," he finally said, lifting his face back to lock eyes with me once more. "You're right. I lied. I did say that last night, and I meant it. I..." He trailed off like he'd just hit his word quota for the month.
I folded my arms, shivering against the bone-deep chill of soaking wet clothes. "You... what? I'm not a damn psychic, Archer. If you have something to say, it needs to be said out loud."
His blue eyes blazed with determination. "I push people away because being close to me means painting a target on your back. I never want my loved ones to be used as bargaining chips, to be kidnapped and ransomed or beaten and raped as punishment for gang world bullshit. I want better than that for you, Kate. I want you to have a normal fucking life away from all of this." He paused, breathing heavily. I could hear my own pulse racing in my ears, and suddenly the rain and cold may as well have been a million miles away.
Archer didn't take his eyes from mine for even a second, but something shifted in his expression. It became harder, more resolute. "But I'm fast coming to the realization that if anyone can handle themselves in my world, it's you." His lips tightened, and his brow furrowed. "Which is a relief. Because as hard as I try to push you away, I keep drawing you back again. You're an addiction that I never want to quit, Kate. I'm tired of denying my own heart. Aren't you?"
My chest was tight to the point of physical pain, and I needed to force myself to breathe. He was staring at me, waiting for my response, and I wasn't capable of forming the words he so desperately needed to hear. Instead, I just jerked a nod. That was the best he was getting from me, so it'd have to do.
Archer let out a long breath, swiping his hand over his hair and sending a spray of water flying.
"Kate, I'm not sorry." He spoke the words with total sincerity, stopping my heart completely. "I'm not sorry for marrying you behind your back. If I was given the same option tomorrow, I'd do it again, even knowing how much it hurt you to find out."
My heart cracked in two. "You're a piece of shit, Archer D'Ath."
The insult came out weak and broken, full of pain and desperation, and that prick just smiled.
"I'm not sorry for saving you, Kate. But I'm sorry for everything past that point. I treated you badly, worse than badly, because you manifested my worst fears for my poisoned soul. Every day that I looked at you, I saw Ana. I saw my unforgivable sins, and I wasn't sorry. For that, I'm truly sorry." His eyes had lost all traces of arrogant pride, and all I could find in his searching gaze was a desperate plea for forgiveness.
It was something I couldn't give him. Not yet. Not unconditionally.
I took a step backward, ducking my gaze away from his. "Thank you for being honest," I replied. It was all I had to offer. "Your apology is accepted, but I'm not even remotely ready to forgive the bad blood between us."
From my lowered line of sight, I saw his fists tighten at his sides.
"Fair enough, then," he said in a voice woven with disappointment and hurt. "Just get in the car. I'll take you home."
Panic swept through me. I wasn't ready to forgive and forget yet, but that didn't mean it wasn't an option in the future. But I could see how he'd just taken my words as a blank rejection, and I needed to rectify that before this fragile bond was broken for good.
"And if I refuse?" I taunted him, raising my chin back up with stubborn defiance. "What will you do about it?" Rain lashed against my face, blurring my vision, but I still caught the flicker of an evil smile tugging at Archer's lips.
He closed the gap between us, his formidable height and stature towering over me. "If you refuse, I'll be forced to bend you over the hood of my car and spank that luscious ass until it glows. Your choice, Princess."
Hope bloomed in my chest once more, mingling with a healthy dose of victory. All wasn't lost after all.
"You've got to the count of three to get back in the car," Archer growled, and my lips curved in a sly grin.
"One..."
I folded my arms under my soaked breasts.
"Two..."
I batted my water-logged lashes at him.
"Three."
I accepted my fate.
33
Excited anticipation rippled through me as Archer grabbed me around the waist to throw me over his shoulder and storm back to his car. My wet hair hung in heavy ropes, almost dragging in the mud under his feet, and I gave zero shits. That was what shampoo was for.
Except instead of bending me over his hood and smacking my ass like he'd promised—uh, I mean threatened—he set me back on my feet and clasped my face between his palms.
"What are you doing?" I demanded, confused and turned-on and conflicted as hell.
Archer smirked. "You really think it's that easy? Stand there and listen to me bare my soul, say nothing in return, then expect to just move past it all with the best sex of your life?"