7. Geneva

7

GENEVA

After washing and putting the dishes away, we sit by the fire, watching the snow fall, and share a tall glass of whiskey. I learn Archie is an 80's movie lover just like I am. He enjoys sports but isn't a die-hard fan. However, if Chris Stapleton is playing a concert within a five-hundred-mile radius, he's hands-down going no matter what. He has an older sister who lives in Iceland with her partner. He has no brothers, no nieces or nephews. His parents passed away within six months of each other two years ago. He's a proud American, loves the people of Whiskey Creek, and would die for Gizmo. He's the absolute best human being I have ever met.

I still have to tell him why I'm on the run. But… I'm stalling. Part of me wants to just get it over with, but I'm scared to death. What if the twinkle in those big chocolate eyes of his disappears? What if he thinks I'm a coward? What if he looks at me with disdain?

"Where did you go?" Archie nudges me on the shoulder. "Tell me what you're thinking."

As if he senses my fear, he puts down his whiskey, leans back into the sofa, and drops a big open palm onto his thigh. "Give me your hand, Gennie."

I ignore the slight pressure in my chest as his hand swallows mine.

"Whatever it is you're about to tell me, sweetheart, will not change how I see you."

Shocked, my mouth drops open. "How do you know what I'm thinking?"

"Educated guess," he says with a grin.

"Or you're a mentalist," I smile back.

"Nah, just good at paying attention to things that matter to me."

Heat flushes up my neck straight to my cheeks. And it's not from the fire or the whiskey. "Where did you come from?"

"Now who's reading minds?" He squeezes my hand. "I'm glad you're here."

"Me too," I whisper.

I leave my hand in Archie's, then turn back to the fire as a thousand butterflies rush through my belly. Holding onto him, I feel secure and safe, anchored.

He accepts me as I am without conditions or rules. I've never experienced anything like this before, not in my relationships, not even with my parents.

He's been through so much and still has a kind, soft heart. It's only been a couple of days… yet I really like him, and I don't know what to do with that.

It's crazy.

I worry I'm crazy.

"Sweetheart, life is too short to think things to death or to hold onto things you don't have to carry alone."

"How come I didn't meet you ten years ago?" I take a deep breath. "Your sage advice could have saved me an awful lot of heartache."

"Ten years ago, I don't think my advice would've been the same, sweetheart. Which is why our paths have crossed now." He gives my hand another gentle squeeze. "You ready to finish your story?"

I drop my head back and inhale deeply. "We were closing the restaurant after a busy night like we'd done a hundred times before. I was busy washing tables and turning over the chairs, Antonio was vacuuming and singing at the top of his lungs, Gino was taking out the trash, Katie was cashing out the register and telling silly stories while Mr. Bellante was preparing the menu for Thursday. Everything was normal…" my voice trembles, "until it wasn't. I remember laughing at something Katie said when all hell broke loose. Four huge men dressed all in black wearing ski masks dragged Gino into the dining room. They threw him on the floor and took out guns. Katie was so smart. She tossed the deposit bag across the floor, so they didn't have to bother looking for it."

I turn to face Archie. "Donny was one of the masked men."

"How do you know, sweetheart?"

"He never said a word. He kept his eyes locked on me. Deep down, I knew… I'd seen that glare before… I'd had that sick feeling in the pit of my stomach many times. But it was when he grabbed me by the hair, forced me to my knees, and put his gun to my forehead… I knew for sure. I saw the blue ink on the inside of his wrist," I swallow hard. "#0421."

"Son of a bitch." His eyes burn with smoldering fury. "Is that his badge number?"

"Yes." I choke back tears.

"How did you get away?"

"Just as Donny was pressing the barrel of the gun hard into my skin, one of the masked men pulled him off of me and shoved him out the door. Terrified he would come back to kill me, I jumped in my car and just kept on driving, trying to figure out what to do. I couldn't call the police. He was the police. I couldn't go home because he could be waiting for me there. I had to get rid of my cell phone because I knew he'd be able to track me. So, I stopped at a 24-hour Walmart and bought a suitcase, some clothes, and toiletries with my tip money. Then I headed for Canada because I honestly didn't know where else to go."

Archie looks out the window, his jaw muscles flexing.

"You are a brave woman, Gennie. A survivor."

"You don't think I'm a coward?" My bottom lip trembles.

"Coward?" He spins around and grabs me by the shoulders. "You held yourself together, put together a plan, and persevered. You're here in one piece because you're courageous. Don't you ever think anything different."

"But I left my friends and didn't tell them about Donny."

"That was smart." His chest heaves as his eyes lock onto mine. "I'm going to help you, Gennie. You are not alone and will never have to be alone again, okay? Your battles are now my battles, sweetheart. You're not going to spend the rest of your life looking over your shoulder. We'll take care of this jackass. Don't you worry."

"We?"

"We," he nods. "I've got some friends to introduce you to once we can get down the mountain."

"Are they cops?" I shake.

"Yes. But they're good cops, good men." He lets me go. "I know I've said this before, but I'm going to say it again. You can trust me, sweetheart.

My throat tightens, and there's a warmth in the pit of my stomach. "I believe you," I say.

"Perfect," he says as he wipes a stray tear from my cheek. "Now, no more talking about him until we leave this mountain, okay? He doesn't belong here."

"Okay," I agree.

"Excellent." He jumps up. "Now let's go make a boatload of buttered popcorn, refill our whiskeys, and watch some of the best comedies ever made."

I look up into his big brown eyes. "Thank you for not judging me."

"Thank you for trusting me." He winks, and his gaze drops to my mouth for a second, which makes my heart pound. "You good?"

"I'm good," I say, as I let him pull me to my feet. I follow him into the kitchen, smiling from ear to ear.

Beside him, I feel small, dainty, feminine. It's a feeling I've never experienced before.

And I want more of it.

And heaven help me, I want more of Archie.