Page 106 of Empire of Ache & Ruin

“I’m sorry. I had an accident. And lost my phone.” I meant to ask Archer to borrow his phone to call Hunter. But I wasn’t sure how that particular conversation would go, given all the events that happened because I made plans to meet with my ex. “I’m sorry I didn’t call.”

“You should be sorry for a lot of things, Paloma.” He smirks. “All that time together. You should’ve been mine.”

“This was all for Dad and you know that.” I step back.

“He brought you here to rub it in our faces.” He fists his hands. “But I knew I would have a chance to get you alone. I know you still want to be with me, don’t you, baby? You don’t have to pretend.”

“I’m not your baby,” I say with all the bravado I can muster. “I need to go find my husband.” When he doesn’t move, I raise my voice. “Let me through.”

“Not until I get what I’m owed.” He removes his tuxedo jacket and unbuckles his belt. “All those years keeping my hands to myself and for what? The old man didn’t even ask me what I wanted. He just let you go with that pompous ass.”

“You don’t want to do this.” My voice quavers because even if I can’t say the words, I know why he’s here.

In the next beat, he grabs my upper arm and shoves me into the handicap stall. My head hits the tile, and stars explode behind my eyelids. His mouth is on my neck as he fumbles with his pants. If Archer left for a minute, he won’t know Hunter is in here with me. He may think I’m just taking my time. He won’t know to come inside and help me. I shove at Hunter, but he has a vise-like grip over my mouth and is using his body weight to keep me pinned to the wall.

“Get your bloody hands off my wife.” Archer’s voice fills my chest with relief.

In a flash of arms and legs, Hunter’s form is yanked from the bathroom stall and hurtled against the bathroom sinks. All the water faucets turn on at once while Hunter tumbles to the floor.

Archer looks taller than his six-five frame as he stands to block the door, Hunter’s only exit. He turns to face me, his cheeks red and eyes dark as night. “Are you okay?”

“Yes.” I nod.

“This will only take a minute.” Archer smirks. “Hunter and I have a conversation pending. Don’t we?” He grabs Hunter by the collar and punches him straight in the nose. “You miss my wife’s smell? Is that right?” He clocks his face again. “Answer.”

I wince at all the blood that splatters on the white tile and mirror. Jesus, this is about Hunter’s text to me? Archer is pummeling his nose because he said he missed my smell. It’s over the top. And if Hunter hadn’t just tried to have sex with me, I would ask Archer to stop. But I can’t bring myself to defend him.

“What?” Hunter glares at the blood on his hand, then up at Archer. “Are you insane?”

“Answer the goddam question.” Archer stalks toward him. “Do you miss my wife’s scent?”

“No.” Hunter cowers into the corner. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You texted my wife and told her you missed her smell.” Buttons go flying as Archer grabs him again and hits his nose. The painful crack his bones make when his nose finally breaks grinds against my back. Archer doesn’t even flinch. “You’ll be without your sense of smell for a few weeks, if you’re lucky. If I ever catch you near my wife again, I will make sure next time, the damage is permanent. Are we clear?”

Hunter cradles his face as he stares at Archer in horror. “What the fuck is wrong with you?” he mumbles through all the blood on his face.

“Get the fuck out of my sight.” Archer prowls toward him, pointing to the door. “Now.”

“Wait until the Senator finds out.” Hunter grabs his sopping wet tuxedo jacket from one of the sinks and bolts.

“Fucking coward.” Archer is breathing fire as he stands in the middle of the bathroom with bloody knuckles.

“Archer.” I run to him and wrap my arms around his waist. “Where were you?”

“I had something I needed to handle before we left.” He kisses the top of my head but doesn’t hug me to him.

“What’s wrong?” I step back, doing a quick scan of his body. “Are you hurt?”

“No. I just don’t want to ruin your dress.” He shakes his head, showing me his bloody hands. “The blood isn’t mine.” He ambles to the sink and runs his hands under the water.

“Wait, both your hands are bruised. Did you get into a fight before coming here?” I grab a towel from the basket and help him clean the dried blood off his knuckles.

“I needed to make sure those assholes understood that I protect what’s mine.” He leans on the counter while I dry his hands. “They don’t get to look at you like that and walk away scot-free.”

“You fought all of them?” My eyebrows go up in surprise.

“No.” He clenches his jaw. “Two of them got away before I got to their suite.”