Page 63 of The Tenth Circle

Archer chuckles, brushing away some strands of hair covering my eyes. “But not at the bestie thing.”

With a chuckle of my own, I press my head against his chest, coated in his warmth and soothing heartbeat. A heartbeat that never tires, no matter how much of it is used for Hendrix ASMR.

“Never at the bestie thing.”

“Hen…” Archer calls out after a length of silence.

“Yeah?”

“You know why kids in school always ask me to do their digging?”

Literally always. Literally with everything.

“Because your shovel’s the fanciest?”

“No—” he counters, semi-serious. “Because I know where all the bodies get buried.”

“Cool analogy,bruh.” I slap his chest. “But this body isn’t cold just yet.”

“Yeah, and I prefer to keep it that way.”

I’m saved by the bedroom door when it opens, revealing my mother dressed to the nines in a sundress, sandals, and straightened hair.

Mom never straightens her hair. Says it’s a waste of time unless she has somewhere to go.

Given the fact it’s barely eleven in the morning and she hasn’t even called us for pancakes, I’d say it’s sus as fuck.

Judging by the way Archer’s eyeing me, I’d say he’s thinking the exact same thing.

“Good morning, you two.” Mom smiles, but there are nerves hiding behind it.

“Morning?” I return the greeting in question, sitting up. Same goes for Archer.

She clears her throat. “Uhm, Hen? Think we can have a little chat?”

Nope, no more third degree.

I won’t have it.

Especially after last night.

Her gaze bounces between Archer and me.

“Please?”

Knowing Auntie Pop isn’t here is the only reason I change my mind. So, with my seven hundredth grumble in twenty-four hours, I climb off the bed.

Mom seems relieved until her attention falls on Archer.

“I think it would be better in private.”

The ominous tone of her voice secures my need to keep Archer right the hell where he is.

When I reach her I ask, “You and Auntie Pop okay?”

She nods profusely. “Yes, baby, of course. Nothing’s wrong.”

“Then I need him to stay.”