I bark out an incredulous laugh. “You’re dreaming, kid. Get the fuck out of my way.”
“You don’t want her.” He slides his arm beneath her legs, like heactuallythinks I’m gonna give her up. “You made your choice. Hand her over, then you can be on your way.”
“Stand down.” I twist her out of his reach and circle the athlete that will, someday, outgrow me in every way. Including his ability to put me on my ass if we go toe-to-toe.
My days are limited.
He knows it.
I know it.
I stalk into the hall and swallow the heartache his words so easily slice into my soul, because the fact is, heshouldchoose her. I’d be mad if he didn’t. But the way he so easilydoesn’tchoose me stings a little. I cross the threshold of our bedroom and groan at the sight of our bed, unmade on one side, and completely untouched on the other. She didn’t sleep on my side. She didn’t hug my pillow. She didn’t disturb my space, not even for a second.
I carry her around and gently, so fucking carefully, lower her to the mattress. Her dangling ponytail hits first, and her swinging feet touch second. I lay her flat, her head on the pillow, and though she whimpers and smacks her lips, curling onto her side, I don’t bother running and hiding.
She’s not waking up. Not for a long while yet.
I peel her shoes and socks off and set them on the floor, then moving to the still-open door, I meet Cato’s harsh stare as he stands in the hall, his jaw clenching and his eyes burning.
Glowering, I close the door with a gentle snick and turn.
She’smyfucking wife. Not his. Not ever.
“Hurts,” Minka mumbles in her sleep, suckling on her bottom lip and scowling, even as she dreams. “Archer… hurts.”
“I know, baby. It hurts, and it’s all my fault.” Shame washes through my blood as I lower my gaze and meander back to her side. I unsnap her pants and cautiously drag the fabric over her skin, down her creamy thighs, and off the end, all so she doesn’t have to sleep in her day clothes. Dropping the pants on the floor, I consider her top… but it’s not the kind I can take off without forcing her to sit up. So I leave it, thankful for its lightweight material and lack of long sleeves.
“I love you so much.” Like the coward I am, I lower into acrouch and press my lips to her shoulder. “I love you more than anything else, Minnnka. More than anyone else. You owe me another eighty years, remember?” I lay my hand on her hip and press my face to her ribs. It’s a hug. It’s a desperate plea for mercy. It’s a fucking prayer. “At least eighty,” I rasp. “I’m not giving a single one of them up.”
I take five minutes with her. Holding her. Touching her. Syncing my breath to hers. But I hear the angry, rhythmic pace of a man in the hall, and because I do, I know five minutes is all I’m gonna get.
I don’t deserve more. Worse, Cato’s not wrong in his feelings.
It’s entirely possible he loves her as much as I do.
Drawing a deep breath until her scent reaches all the way to the base of my lungs, I push up straight and lean over her, pressing a feather-light kiss to her cheek, then I back away, letting her go before I do something monumentally stupid—like wake her up and throw us into a fight where harsh words are spoken and hearts hurt more than they already do. Moving in silence, I pull the door open and step into the hall.
It’s time to face the fire.
Cato spins and attempts to step past me, shoving me aside like he thinks he gets his five minutes, too. I slam my hand to his chest instead. “No.” I steel myself, glaring at the boy who already knows what it is to kill. To hurt. To take care of his family. “It’s not happening.”
“Wasn’t so long ago I told you to fix your shit.” He steps right, trying again to move around me. “Something about how there’s only Minka and Archer. Not Minka and me. Not Minka and someone else.”
“Cato—”
“Guess I’m ready to try something new, ‘costhisArcher,” he stares down his nose at me. “He doesn’t deserve her. He’s nothing but a disappointment. And I’m not sure I ever considered a world where I would think that about you.”
“I’m telling you to back the fuck up.” I shove him backwards, my palm pressed to his pounding heart, and walk him all the way to the living room. “If any other man came at me about my wife the way you are right now, he wouldn’t live to talk about it.”
“So let’s fight it out!” He claps his hand to the side of my arm, buckling my hold. “Strongest survives. You won’t even have time to pout about losing, ‘cos I’ll find you a nice little grave to sleep in.”
“Anyotherman.” I step in his way and stop him from stalking around me. “Anyothercircumstances, I would’ve already drawn my weapon.”
“I don’t need a weapon! I’ll stain the floor red with your blood.”
“It’s okay that you love her.” I grab him by the throat and walk his furious ass back another three paces. “It’s okay to want to make this better for her. You feel that way because you’re a good man. You’re a damn good brother.”
He scoffs.
