Archer's Voice - Sheridan Mia (читаемые книги читать онлайн бесплатно txt) 📗

Oh God! I thought. What if I hadn't been here?

The ambulance shrieked down our small street ten long minutes later and tears streamed down my face as I watched them work on Anne as she lay on her couch. I took long, shaky breaths, trying to get my own heart rate under control. "Is she going to be okay?" I asked the tech when they brought a stretcher in to transport her. She had an oxygen mask on and looked slightly better already, some color returning to her cheeks.

"It looks good," he said. "She's conscious and we got to her in time."

"Okay," I nodded my head, wrapping my arms around my body. "She doesn't have any family. Should I meet her at the hospital?"

"You're welcome to ride in the ambulance with her."

"Oh! Okay. Yes, please, if I can," I said, following them outside and closing Anne's door behind us.

As I moved toward the ambulance, I glanced to my right and saw Archer running toward me, a look that I could only describe as wild, on his face. My heart plunged into my feet. Oh God, he had run here–he must have heard the ambulance sirens all the way from his house. I walked quickly toward him. He came to an immediate halt when he saw me, not moving closer, his eyes wide and staring, his fists clenched. I jogged the last couple yards to him and said, "Archer! Anne had a heart attack! She's okay, I think, but I'm going to ride to the hospital with her. It's okay. Everything is okay. I'm okay."

He put his hands up on top of his head and gritted his teeth, looking like he was struggling mightily to rein something in. He walked in a slow circle and then turned toward me, nodding his head once, that wild look still in his eyes, but not his expression. His expression suddenly looked strangely blank.

"I'll come straight to you when I know she's going to be okay," I said. I glanced back and the back wheels of the stretcher were just disappearing inside the ambulance. I walked backwards. "I'll take a cab straight to you."

Archer nodded, still expressionless, and then turned without saying a word and walked away from me.

I only hesitated a second before jogging to the ambulance and hopping in just before they closed the doors.

I stayed at the hospital until I knew for sure that Anne was going to be okay. When the doctor finally came out to tell me that she was stable, he said that she was sleeping, but that he'd told her I was there. They had also called a sister whose number Anne had given them when they first brought her in, and she'd be to Pelion in the morning. That made me feel a lot better and when I finally called a taxi, I felt like a weight had lifted.

I was worried about Archer though. I had texted him when I first got to the hospital and then again when the doctor came out to speak to me, but he had never responded. I was anxious to get to him.

I bit my lip as the taxi made the thirty-minute drive to my cottage. I had told Archer I'd come straight to him, but I wanted to pick Phoebe up before going to his house. Surely he had calmed down by now. He knew I was fine, even if the initial scare had done a number on him. Why he wasn't answering his phone, I wasn't sure though, and it sat heavy in my gut.

I paid the driver and hopped out, rushing into my cottage and calling to Phoebe who came running, her nails clicking on my hardwood floor.

I pulled up to Archer's gate a few minutes later and let myself and Phoebe in. We walked to Archer's door and I knocked softly before opening it and putting Phoebe down. It had just started to drizzle outside, gray clouds darkening the sky.

Archer's house was dark except for a standing lamp that was on in the corner of the living room. Archer was sitting in a chair in the opposite corner. At first I didn't see him and so when I did, I startled and brought my hand to my chest, laughing out slightly. His expression was somber, hooded. I went to him immediately and kneeled down in front of him, putting my head on his lap and sighing.

After a few seconds when I realized he was going to remain still, I looked up at him questioningly.

How's Anne? he asked.

I brought my hands up. She's going to be fine. Her sister will be here in the morning. I sighed. I'm so sorry that whole episode scared you. I didn't want to leave you there, but I didn't want to leave Anne alone either.

Archer brought his hands up. I understand, he said, his eyes still shuttered.

I nodded, biting my lip. Are you okay? What are you sitting here thinking about?

He was quiet for so long that I thought he wasn't going to answer me, when he finally brought his hands up and signed, That day.

I tilted my head. That day? I asked, confused.

The day I was shot, my uncle came to take me and my mom away from my dad.

My eyes widened, but I didn't say a word, just watched him and waited for him to continue.

My dad was at a bar… supposedly busy for a while. He paused, looking off behind me for a second before his eyes found me again. He hadn't always been like he was at the end. He'd been fun, full of charm when he wanted to be. But then he started drinking and things went downhill from there. He'd slap my mom, accuse her of things he was the one doing.

Either way though, my mom only loved one man and that was my uncle Connor. I knew it, my dad knew it, the whole town knew it. And the truth of it was, I loved him more too.

He was silent again for a minute, staring past me. Finally, he continued.

And so when he came for us that day and I learned that I was his son, not Marcus Hale's son, I was happy. I was elated.

He looked down at me, regarding me with little emotion, as if he was deep inside himself, hidden. My uncle shot me, Bree. Marcus Hale shot me. I don't know if he meant to or if the gun just went off when I ran toward him in anger. But either way, he shot me and this is what it did. He brought his hand up to his throat, running it over the scar.

Then he gestured his hand to indicate all of him. This is what it did.

My heart sank. "Oh, Archer," I breathed out. He continued to look down at me. He seemed almost numb.

"What happened to them? To your mom?" I asked, blinking up at him and swallowing down the lump that was threatening to choke me.

He paused for only a second. Marcus had hit our car from behind in his attempt to run us off the road. Our car flipped. My mom was killed in the accident. He closed his eyes for a minute, pausing, and then opened them and continued. After Marcus shot me, there was a standoff between him and Connor in the road. He lapsed into silence again for a minute, his eyes looking like deep, amber pools of sorrow. They shot each other, Bree. Right there on the highway, under a blue springtime sky, they shot each other.

I felt weak with horror.

Archer went on. Tori showed up and then I vaguely remember another car coming along a minute after that. The next thing I remember is waking up in the hospital.

A sob moved up my throat, but I swallowed it down. All these years, I shook my head, unable to grasp the torment he must have experienced, you've lived with that all these years–all by yourself. Oh, Archer. I sucked in a huge breath, attempting to keep hold of my own emotion.

He looked down at me, emotion finally flashing in his own eyes before it moved away again.

I scooted closer to him and gripped his t-shirt as I laid my head against his stomach, tears running silently down my face as I whispered again and again, "I'm so sorry." I didn't know what else to say in response to the weight of the horror a little boy had held.