Daddy Boss

by Claire Bishop

  When the police left, Archer asked Chloe to give us a moment. She excused herself to my bedroom, leaving us alone. I was sitting on the couch, staring at the carpet, while Archer paced around in front of me.

  “I love you, Zoe. I want you to know that.”

  “I do, Archer. I know that.”

  He stopped in the middle of the room and stared down at his feet. “And I want to thank you.”

  “Thank me? I should be thanking you for saving my life.”

  He shrugged. “You saved my life, too. You stopped me from doing something terrible. Something I would have regretted for the rest of my life.”

  “You were going to kill him,” I said quietly.

  Archer nodded. “I’m not that guy, you know? Please don’t think that’s who I am.”

  “You lost control.” I couldn’t even look at him.

  “When I saw him put that knife to your throat, I lost it. I wish I hadn’t. I just wanted to protect you.”

  “You protected me, but you also scared the shit out of me.”

  “I know, and I’m sorry.”

  “Archer, I think I need to be alone right now. I need time to think.”

  He hesitated like he wasn’t going to leave. I wasn’t sure if he knew what to do. Eventually, he started to walk out, then took one last look at me before he did. We both knew that it was the last time we’d ever see each other.

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Archer

  I got up my room and collapsed on the bed. The fucking sheets were drenched in vanilla perfume. I threw them onto the floor and grabbed a pillow so I could hold onto it for comfort. When I did, a strand of hair fell off the pillow onto the mattress.

  I hopped off the bed, grabbed the sheets and the pillows, and threw them onto the floor. Then I laid down. Her scent was still there, permanently embedded in my nostrils. A haunting reminder of what I’d done.

  Guilt overwhelmed me. I tried to do something good by protecting Zoe, but I wound up doing something unforgivable. Or trying to, anyway. Mr. Beetle, no, Clarence. I had to remind myself he was a man, not a bug. Clarence was a dangerous psychopath, but in the end, I’d gone just as crazy as he was.

  Shooting the man was one thing. He was going to kill Zoe. I was just protecting her. But after, once I’d subdued the man and tied him up, the threat was over. I was no longer trying to protect Zoe. I was going to murder a defenseless man in cold blood.

  Clarence couldn’t possibly have fought me off. He was weak and small, and he didn’t know what he was doing. Whatever madness drove his actions wasn’t his fault. No one chooses to be crazy. His mind was broken. It blinded him to reason. He wasn’t in control of his actions. He was subject to a corrupting force. I’d ignored all that in my murderous rage.

  Zoe never lost sight of that. She’d always seen past Clarence’s filthy clothes, his revolting smell, and his strange manners. She knew he deserved to be treated like anyone else, with dignity and respect. That’s why she never sent him away all those times he came into the shop.

  And even after he’d gone full psycho on her, she didn’t want me to hurt Clarence without cause. She didn’t want him dead. She wanted him to get help. His life mattered to her, the way it should have mattered to me.

  But it hadn’t. I was a monster, capable of disregarding somebody’s life because I was angry. Because I was scared. I kept going back to what I was thinking in the truck on the way to Zoe’s. I had every intention of killing Clarence, even before I knew what was happening at Zoe’s apartment. And I would’ve murdered that man if Zoe hadn’t stopped me. No wonder she never wanted to see me again.

  She hadn’t actually said that, but I could tell from the look in her eyes that I terrified her now. I couldn’t blame her. I was terrified of whatever dark part of me had taken over at that moment. What kind of man was I? How could I look my sons in the eye knowing what kind of savagery I was capable of? How could I look Zoe in the eye?

  I was surprised she didn’t tell the police what I’d done. I wish she would have. I deserved to face the consequences of my actions. I deserved to be punished. Maybe scaring Zoe away was punishment enough. Seeing that fear in her eyes when she looked at me seared my very soul.

  I grabbed a fresh blanket from the closet, one that didn’t smell like Zoe. I kept the lights off. I couldn’t face the world. Seeing anything beyond my blanket sanctuary reminded me that I still existed. I was still breathing, and my heart kept pounding away.

  Even though I’d stripped away all the bedding to get rid of Zoe’s scent, the mattress still smelled like her. I propped myself up against the wooden headboard. The edge drove into my spine. It felt right to experience a little pain. As much as it hurt, it was nothing compared to frightening Zoe.

  Clearly, I didn’t deserve her. The woman was too good for a man like me. A man who lost control like that. A man who had murder in his heart. The smell of her perfume hovered around my head like spirits taunting me, reminding me of what we once had. And reminding me that all I had left of her now was the ghost of a memory. Eventually, her scent would fade from my world like she had, leaving me alone again. Leaving me empty.

  I wished I could rewind the clock and change what had happened today. Just when I’d gotten Zoe back, I lost her again. By trying to protect her, I’d hurt her worse than I ever could have imagined. When I thought I was being strong, I was actually at my weakest. I promised myself, then and there, I’d never lose control like that again.

  I had to be a better man. For my sons. And if I ever wanted to be good enough for a woman like Zoe. It was a hard lesson to learn, and it had come at too high a cost. I’d be paying the price for the rest of my life.

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Zoe

  I woke up dreading my day. There were dishes to be done and muffins to bake. The apartment was a mess, but I couldn’t even bring myself to look at the remnants of Mr. Beetle’s attack. Maybe if I ignored it, it would just go away. I walked into the living room, naked and still bloody.

  My eyes snapped shut. I saw Archer choking Mr. Beetle while the man struggled to get free. His head was going limp, and his eyes were rolling up into the back of his head. The worst part was the unnatural purple color of his skin.

  It was impossible to forget what Archer had done. I was going to have to clean this up if I wanted a second’s peace, but I could face it. I couldn’t face the woman looking back at me in the mirror when I walked up to my vanity either. It reminded me of a movie I once saw where a high school girl got pig blood thrown over her head.

  I had scratches all over my wrists and ankles. They were raw, and when I stepped into the shower, the water tore at the skin. I hissed and pulled my hand back. How could I stop thinking about what happened when everything kept reminding me of it? The mess in the living room and kitchen. The screaming pain of my ankles and wrists. The throbbing ache in my head. I just wished it would all go away.

  I felt my feet slip under me, and I found myself kneeling in the shower, sobbing. The real world came rushing back, too fast, and I couldn’t handle it. I reached up and turned the water on as hot as I could. I screamed at the feeling of it. My whole body shook from the outcry of pain pouring out of me. Something had been boiling up inside me, and it erupted from me now.

  But it didn’t help. The heat just kept coming, scorching my skin and burning my cuts. I wouldn’t turn the heat down. Not yet. I needed the shock to bring myself out of this. I should’ve stayed away.

  I laid there on the shower floor until the water heater gave out, and the cold came rushing down. I grunted, braced myself to get up, and turned the water off. The silence was unbearable. My skin was bright red, and my wrists were peeling. This was never going to end. How could I possibly go back to my normal life after everything I’d seen?

  I threw on an old pair of jeans and a shirt, still stained with blueberry syrup, and walked into the living room. There was a hole above the TV where Archer’s bullet had made impact. There was no way that the of
fice manager would allow that. I was probably going to get a twenty-four-hour eviction notice by the end of the day.

  Nothing was good or simple. Every task, from pulling on my shoes to opening the car door, was an obligation and another reminder of what had happened. My only hope was to get to work. Maybe baking would get my mind off things.

  Downtown was congested. They were having their monthly farmer’s market. It was set up in the square where Archer and I had come to dance during the music festival. I could still see the tattered white remains of the paper lanterns. I wanted to blow the place up. I’d have to pass it every time I drove into work.

  Chloe was outside, openly smoking in back when I pulled up. She didn’t say anything. I didn’t want to tell her about Archer, but I could tell by the way she looked at me when she came inside that she wanted to say something. I stormed out into the lobby and started making a pot of coffee while I clocked in on the register.

  She stayed in the kitchen until the morning rush was over and only came out when my back was turned so she could sneak a scone. I pretended that I didn’t see her, but I did. I didn’t need a reminder. There was nothing I could do about this. Archer simply wasn’t the right man for me.

  I drank cup after cup of coffee until my hands were shaking and I had to sit down in the office. The clutter was too busy. The stained pavement and the stacks of paper made me feel like I had entered another dimension, where everything was just a little bit worse than it normally was.

  I closed my eyes. Business would slow down, the bakery would close, and I’d lose my apartment. Everything that could go wrong would go wrong until I was living in a ditch like Mr. Beetle.

  Chloe came in. “Hey.”

  I sighed and my head fell forward. The last thing I wanted to do was cry in front of her, but it wasn’t something that I could control.

  She rested her hand on my shoulder. “It’s okay.”

  “No, it’s not!” I shot up out of the chair. “I—Chloe…”

  “What?”

  I sat back down. “He’s gone,” I wailed.

  “Oh, no.”

  “I thought you hated him?”

  “I mean, yeah, I did.”

  “Shouldn’t you be happy?” I asked.

  “No, I was wrong about him.”

  “No, you weren’t,” I cried. “You didn’t see what he did. He’s not like you and me. There’s something wrong with him.”

  “Why? Because he was ready to kill a man who tied you up and tried to torture you with a red-hot knife? Are you crazy? I was ready to kill him.”

  “You say that, but you don’t really mean it. That’s the difference. Archer was going to do it. I had to beg him to stop.”

  “Put yourself in his shoes. The woman he loves was about to die. You can’t tell me you don’t care about him enough to kill for him. I’ve seen the way you were when you two were together.”

  I felt like she’d just slapped me in the face. I’d been trying to push my feelings down the entire morning. I told myself that he didn’t matter, but he did, and Chloe wasn’t going to let me forget it. I needed to get out of there. I stood up to walk past her, but she blocked my path. “Sit down.” She pointed at the chair.

  I looked past her into the lobby. I didn’t even have the energy to walk out there, so I relented. “I can’t hear this.”

  “How many bullshit reasons are you going to come up with to fuck this up?”

  “Stop!”

  “No, that man risked everything to save you. If it weren’t for him, you’d be dead or disfigured or who knows what, and you’re treating him like he’s a mass murderer.” She laughed bitterly. “I can’t believe I didn’t see it before.”

  “Please.” I was sobbing.

  “This has nothing to do with what happened, his children, or even Archer. This is you sabotaging your relationship. You’re so worried about every little thing, just like you were when you started the bakery. I had to literally push you into the bank. You’ll never take a risk. You’re a coward, and if you can’t see him for what he is, then you don’t deserve him.”

  “I…” She was gone, and I was left thinking of Archer and the way he seemed to change into a completely different person when he rushed into the apartment. I actually had to stop him from killing a man.

  I gasped and looked around. I could almost see him with those eyes burning through me with his hand around my neck.

  “Are you going to do it, Zoe?”

  “If you talk to me again the rest of the day, you’re fired.” I slammed the door in her face and leaned back against it. My tears had drained a long time ago, and my face still stung. Every part of me was raw and battered. I couldn’t go out there like this.

  That was the worst part of this entire episode. I wasn’t working like I should’ve been. Instead, I was holing myself up in the back office, too afraid to even walk out the door. When we were together, I’d space out like a sixteen-year-old girl swooning like he was in a boy band. The distraction was dangerous. It could destroy my life.

  I sat down on the chair and held my head in my hands. I had to deal with my apartment. It wasn’t much, and it still didn’t feel like home, especially now that it was wrecked, but it was all I had. I didn’t think I’d be able to find a place in a day.

  I pulled out my phone. There were forty messages from Archer. I snapped my eyes shut before I could read the one hovering at the top of the screen and swiped it away. I missed him, but that wasn’t the problem. It was the fact that I’d been stupid enough to fall for a man like him.

  I called the apartment office. “Homestead, this is Lilly.”

  “Hi, Lilly, this is Zoe from number 453.”

  There was a long pause. I thought she hung up. “Are you okay? I saw the cops outside there, and Lolene told me she heard a gunshot.”

  I sighed. “I…”

  “Just tell me you’re all right.”

  “Yeah.” The tears came.

  “What happened?”

  “I don—I…it wasn’t my fault.”

  “Well, of course it wasn’t. We’ve been worried sick about you all day. Lolene wanted to call the fire department to break down the door, but she saw you drive off this morning. What happened?”

  This might’ve been a trap. I didn’t know what to say.

  “Are you hurt?”

  “A little cut up, but nothing major.”

  “Thank God.” She sounded relieved.

  “Please don’t kick me out.”

  “Are you calling because you think I’m going to evict you? Oh, sweetie, no. I’m so, so sorry. Listen, you get things cleaned up, take some time to rest, and don’t worry. We love having you here. Okay?”

  “Really?”

  “Yeah, and if there’s anything you need, please let me know.”

  “There’s a bullet hole in the wall. It’s pretty big.”

  “That’s fine. Do you want us to go in and fix it today?”

  “No, wait till I come home.”

  “You sure you’re all right?”

  “I’ll be fine.” I hung up.

  There was a knock at the door. “Zoe?”

  “What?”

  “I’m sorry. You do what you think is best, okay? And spend as long as you want in there. I’ve got everything.”

  “Thank you, Chloe.”

  “I know that it feels like nothing good will ever happen to you again, but that’s not true. You’re an amazing person. You’ll get through this.”

  I was relieved when I heard her walk away. I couldn’t stay there, and I couldn’t go home. I couldn’t go anywhere else either. I’d just look like a cat lady roaming the streets. No matter what I did, this feeling wasn’t going away.

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Archer

  “Get up!” A blast of cold water sent me flying into the air.

  “What are you doing?” I roared.

  Mona stared at me, clutching a bucket in her hands. “We need to talk.”

  “L
eave me alone,” I said, ducking down and wrapping my arms around my head.

  Mona slapped me hard on the head and, with surprising strength, pulled me into a standing position. “Stop it! Stop it this instant.”

  I collapsed onto the bare mattress.

  “Why are you doing this to yourself, huh?” She was furious. “Why can’t you just go over there and talk to her? Instead of shutting yourself off from the world like a damn recluse?”

  I didn’t have an answer.

  “God, both of you are out of your minds. It’s like I have to press you two together and undress you just to get you to do the deed.”

  “Mona…”

  “No, I don’t want to hear anything you have to say. You need to understand something: you're delusional, you idiot. That girl wants to be with you, even if she says that she doesn’t. She is torturing herself over you right this second, and I’ll bet you she is staring at her phone, waiting for you to call her.”

  “She’s not.”

  “Ugh,” she raged. “How could you possibly be this blind? You saved the girl’s life. I know you did. You don’t even have to tell me what happened.”

  “I…”

  “Shut up and listen to me.” She threw the phone into my lap. I grabbed it and threw it against the wall.

  “I’m at my wit's end. I have done everything I can, but I can’t heal the blind.”

  “I’m not blind.”

  “Yes, you are! Why can’t you see that?”

  “I’m a monster.”

  She laughed. “Is that what you’re telling yourself?”

  “I went there to kill him. I was ready to do it, and it took a lot for her to get me to stop.”

  “Good!” she exclaimed.

  “What is wrong with you?”

  “What did he do?”

  “He took a blazing hot knife and put it to her throat.”

  “You should’ve shot him right between the eyes.” She pointed her finger to show me where. “Did he get at her?”