12. Archer

12

ARCHER

FOUR MONTHS LATER

"Breathe, sweetheart, breathe. I've got you." I rest my hand along the small of Gennie's back to help her up the courtroom steps.

"I know this is the right thing to do…" her voice quivers. "But I'm not ready. I just don't think I can do it, honey."

The door to the courthouse swings open, and we stop. Because I know she's not ready to walk through just yet, I tug her to the side, pulling her into my chest. "He can't touch you, baby. He won't ever touch you. I'll see to that."

"But he has friends." Her body trembles as she wraps her arms around my middle. "What if his friends come after me? Or even worse, what if they come after you? I would never forgive myself if you got hurt because of me."

"Sweetheart, let me worry about that, okay? And just so you know, we've got friends, too." I chuckle into her hair.

"I can't believe you're laughing." She tips her head back. This is serious, Archie. Donny has cop friends— lots of them."

"He doesn't have as many friends as you do."

"Me?" Her perfect nose scrunches.

"Yes, you." I spin her around. "Take a look, sweetheart."

"Oh, my God. What are they doing here?"

Clyde tips his hat our way as he lumbers down the street, decked out in his Sunday best with Ada on his arm. She's dolled up, wearing a bright yellow swing coat, a dress to match, and a hat with a bird cage.

I point across the parking lot. "They're not alone."

Brock steps out of the bus. "The gang's all here!" He calls out.

"The gang?"

"I'm pretty sure every seat in that bus is full. They're here for you, baby."

"I don't know what to say." She sniffles.

I kiss her forehead. "No crying, sweetheart."

"But… they're here for me…"

"Yes, they are. They love you." I tip her chin up to see her green eyes. "But not as much as I do."

"How will I ever repay them?"

"They're here because you're their family now. They don't want to be paid back." I brush my thumb across her cheek, removing a tear. "But if you feel like you have to do something, you can invite them all over for a special meal. They love your cooking."

"That's not enough." She pouts.

"What's not enough?" Brock jogs up the steps with Jude and Mitch on his heels.

"Gennie's worried about how to pay you back for coming to Boston. I told her she could cook for you."

"You make me some of that hamburger casserole with pasta shells…" Brock pats his stomach. "And I'm yours for life."

"You're out of luck, buddy." I pull Gennie in close. "She's all mine."

The tension in my back eases when I look down to see a smile blossoming across her face. "Ready, sweetheart?"

My girl takes a step back, puts her shoulders back, thrusts out her chin, and tucks her hand into mine. "Let's do this," she says.

We pass through security and head down the corridor to the district attorney's office. When we walk through the door, we're greeted by a line of suits and smiles.

"What's going on?" Gennie asks.

"We just got a call from his attorney. I don't know what happened or how, but Mr. Donny Mason has pleaded guilty to all charges and agreed to a twenty-five-year sentence with five years of probation upon his release." The D.A. steps forward. "You don't have to testify, Gennie. It's over."

The ball of dread sitting in the pit of my stomach melts away. "That's great news."

"What did you do?" Gennie stares up at me.

Holding her emerald gaze, I smile. "We had a little chat."

"A little chat?" She rests her delicate hands in the center of my chest. "But he's going to prison for twenty-five years, honey. What did you say?"

"The exact same thing I told you a while back, baby. You are not alone. Your battles are my battles."

"That's it?" Her brows furrow.

"That's it." I kiss her forehead. "Evidently, the man is more intelligent than I gave him credit for.

A pink flush washes over her cheeks. "You said more than that."

"Maybe." I shrug. Of course, I said more than that. There may have been some rope involved, some threats, maybe a gun pressed into his forehead… but she doesn't need to hear about that. All she needs to know is that for as long as there is breath in my lungs and a pulse in my veins, she will never have to spend one minute looking over her shoulder. I will always protect her. I will always keep her safe.

"Thank you." she grabs my face, "I love you, baby."

She kisses me in front of a room full of strangers, and my heart inflates like a balloon.

All this time, I thought I was saving her… that I was her hero when the truth was the absolute opposite.

If a man's soul can be saved by one look of love, I've just been saved a million times.