“Leaving? Why?”
Archer laughed, but it was far from a happy sound. “Because my brother hates me.”
“Andor?”
He ran a hand through mussed-up hair. “Henrik.”
I blinked at him. I’d never been fond of Henrik, but Archer had always been sure we could trust him, that he wasn’t like the rest of their family.
“What’s he done?”
Archer’s jaw clenched. He opened his mouth. Closed it. Cleared his throat of emotion. “Framed me for murder.” His voice broke on the final word. “And I have… I have to go now. Because I won’t…” He cleared his throat again. “I won’t be taken down by my family. Not even Henrik.”
“Archer…”
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be here. But I didn’t want to leave without saying goodbye.”
“Maybe there’s something we can do—”
“There isn’t. He made sure of it.Myweapon was at the crime scene, andourblood. Now he has an alibi with my father. Police won’t touch that. I’m fucked.”
I didn’t know what to say, what to offer.
“Shit’s been going wrong for weeks. I thought maybe one of the Strays was working against me, but I couldn’t figure out who. The Drakes knew things they shouldn’t have known. My contacts all cut me off. Money’s been going missing. And I’d complained to him. I told him all of it, because I needed him to help me and—” He made a sound somewhere between a groan and a scream. His chest was heaving as he tried to pull his emotions in again. “The whole fucking time it washim!”
“I’m sorry…”
He huffed. “You couldn’t have known. I should have, though. Maybe I just didn’t want to see it.” Archer sniffed, wiping his nose on the back of his hand. “You called me last night. I was dealing with…” He gestured vaguely at the world around us. “Everything okay?”
I nodded. Archer had enough to deal with without my mistakes adding to it. I couldn’t help him with Henrik, but I could keep myself from giving him more to worry about. “Yeah. Drunk call. That’s all.”
“You don’t drink.”
“Yeah, well, first and last time.”
“Yeah.” He sniffed. “Well, you look like shit.”
“You don’t look too great either.”
He huffed.
“So, where are you going to go?”
“I don’t know. Maybe that’s better. No one can find me if I don’t even know where I’m going.”
“Am I—” I cut myself off. Because I didn’t want to know the answer if I asked him whether I’d ever see him again.
“I hope so,” he answered anyway.
Then he hugged me, and I managed to hold in the pain as I held him back.
“Until next time, brother.” He smiled.
“Until next time.”
Then he pulled on his helmet and set off.
I watched him go. My chest ached with the knowledge that we’d probably never ride together again. I’d never win another race against him. I’d never get another message to meet him after a shitty birthday party, so he could share the little family he’d created with me. I’d never hear if he found someone to love him the way he deserved. I’d never get to tell him about the man I loved either. I’d never get to tell anyone.
