Archer (Dirty Misfits MC Book 3)

I paced back and forth on the back deck of my home. I hoped that the sun setting over the ocean and the lapping of the waves would help me feel better about things, but it only served to remind me of where Josie really was. My head fell back with groans as I fought off urges to blow the guys up for some kind of update.

Had they gotten there okay?

Did Josie get into the club?

Had she been hassled yet?

I pulled my phone out and called Tanner, unable to resist any longer. And when he picked up the phone, he had my update at the ready.

“Hey there, Archer. She just made it into the club. From the sounds of it, she’s trying to get the girls not to spill on her since they recognize her.”

I scoffed. “If you had an update, why the fuck didn’t Finn call me? That’s his damn job.”

“Because we’re only fifteen minutes into things, that’s why.”

My voice fell flat. “I said I wanted an update every ten.”

He chuckled. “Well, if you want Josie back alive, you’ll have to settle for when we can get to a phone to call you.”

I stiffened. “Why? Is she already in trouble? What’s going on?”

“Dude, you have got to take some breaths. This is the exact reason why Brooks didn’t let you come on this mission in the first place. I don’t know what kind of weird ass attachment you already have to this girl, but you have to cut it out. She’s doing great.”

Relief flooded my veins. “Good. The guys haven’t noticed her yet?”

“Nope. Not one bit. And you have my word that if anyone lays a hand on her, it’s go time.”

I growled. “You make sure it doesn’t even get to that point.”

“Geez, you’re like a rabid dog, can you just—”

Shuffling sounded on the other end of the line before Porter’s voice sounded. “Arch?”

I rolled my eyes. “Yep?”

“She’s good, we’re good. We’ll call you with an update in about an hour.”

Then, the phone line went dead.

With my hand trembling in fear and anger, I clenched my teeth and slid my phone into my back pocket. Maybe I could go for a swim. You know, across the entire fucking Pacific to keep my mind occupied. Or maybe I could go for a long jog on the beach.

I snickered. “Since when do I jog and swim?”

You’re talking to yourself.

“Well, it’s not like anyone else will talk to me.”

You like her that much, huh?

“I mean, sure. Everyone likes the girl.”

Not what I mean, and you know it.

I flopped down into my back deck chair. “Oh, really? Then, enlighten me as to what you actually mean, asshole.”

You know you just called yourself an ass—

“I know what just happened!”

I bent forward and placed my head in my hands. Holy fuck, I had resorted to talking with myself. I pressed the heels of my hands into my eyes and tried to pull myself out of it, but it was like the voice in my head tried to taunt me.

Just say it. It’ll make you feel better.

You know as well as I do what you’re feeling.

Ever thought you’d be in Brooks’ and Porter’s situation?

I growled. “Shut up.”

No can do, asshole.

“Fine! Alright!? I love the girl! So, can we shut the fuck up!?”

And just like that, the voice in my head disappeared.

But it left me with the residual issues that came with what I had just admitted. I looked around to see if anyone had heard me, then I scurried back inside.

“Way too much salted air. I’m going nuts,” I murmured.

I knew it was much more than that, though.

Somehow, Josie had gotten beneath my skin in such a short amount of time. Somehow, she had wiggled her way into my life with the batting of her eyelashes and the strength of her words. Damn it, she reminded me so much of my sister that it was unreal.

She felt like home to me, and the idea of having that ripped away at the drop of a hat made me sick to my stomach.

So sick, in fact, that I doubled over my kitchen sink and dry-heaved.

“Fuck,” I groaned.

I tried to tell myself that everything was fine. That I was fine. That Josie was more than fine. But it didn’t work. After I half-heaved my stomach into the sink, I rinsed my mouth out and made my way upstairs to get dressed. I needed to go somewhere. I needed to get into something. Because sitting in my fucking house waiting for her to come home wasn’t going to cut it.

Now you know how she felt.

“Put a sock in it,” I murmured to myself.

After pulling a shirt over my head and grabbing my leather cut, I settled on a long-ass bike ride through town. I stormed out of my house and locked everything behind me, then I practically leapt onto the cushioned seat of my bike. I cranked the engine and revved it so hard and so loud that it drowned out the voice in my head for just a moment.

Then, I kicked off and made my way toward the ocean’s highway.

That was what I called it anyway. It was this big stretch of road in California that lined the coastline with nothing impeding the view except a flimsy metal guard rail. It was the most beautiful drive in the entire country, if anyone asked me about it, and I drove its length as much as I could before I mindlessly made my way to the clubhouse.

Only to find that I had been driving for less than half an hour.

“Good God,” I groaned.

Cole chuckled. “Struggling that much, huh?”

I paused and took in his figure sitting at the clubhouse kitchen table. “Aren’t you supposed to be working right now? Who the fuck is watching over—”

He waved his hand in the air. “Tanner and I are taking shifts. He goes tonight, I go tomorrow night, and we flip-flop back and forth.”

“Wait, this is a multi-night kind of affair?”

He paused. “Did you really think we’d accomplish everything in one nine-hour shift?”

I’m so fucked. “I need a beer.”

He chuckled and thumbed over his shoulder. “Plenty in the fridge since Porter dropped the habit.”

I walked over and ripped the door open, pulled out an ice-cold drink, and cracked it open before draining it down my throat. I tossed the glass bottle into the trash before retrieving another one, then flopped down in front of Cole and cracked that one open as well. I guess if there was any time to use alcohol to fade my mind a bit, it was now.

And I felt Cole’s eyes on me as I downed the second one at the drop of a hat.

“You good, Archer?”

I cleared my throat and slammed the bottle against the table. “Ah, that was good.”

“But seriously, are you okay?”

I shrugged. “I suppose I should be asking you the same question, since you’ve apparently been spending a lot of time here at the clubhouse by yourself.”

He leaned back in his chair. “Ah, nothing I can’t handle.”

I focused all of my energy onto him. “Are the nightmares back?”

He shrugged and looked away. “Eh, they come and go.”

“What about the flashbacks?”

And when he didn’t answer, I scooted my chair around the table to get a bit closer to him.

“You know if you wanna talk—”

He nodded curtly. “Yep. I got it.”

I snickered. “Does you no good not to talk about it, by the way.”

“Which is why you’re flapping your lips about Josie now, right?”

I nodded slowly. “I’ll give that one to you, sure.”

He sighed. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to be such a dick. I just don’t like talking about it.”

“PTSD is a bitch, especially with how you got it. Don’t ever be ashamed of that, either. You did what you could.”

“I did what I could. I swear, that saying has been following me around for fucking years. And yet, I’m the one standing and they aren’t. What does that tell you?”

I patted his shoulder. “It tells me that you got lucky, because sometimes that’s honestly all it is.”

He sighed heavily. “Thanks for the honesty. Most people try to throw bullshit my way to make me smile, and it only makes me want to punch them.”

I squeezed his shoulder before my hand fell away. “I won’t ever sugarcoat shit. Sometimes in life, you get really fucking unlucky. Then sometimes, you get so fucking lucky it almost hurts.”

“You got that one right,” he murmured.

My phone vibrated in my pocket and I stood up. “You know you’re always welcome at my place if the ocean is your thing.”

He reached for his water. “I appreciate that. Thanks.”

And after a nod of my head, I patted him on the back one last time before I went to answer my phone call from Tanner.

“Tell me you’ve got good news,” I said.

I peered down the hallway at Cole, who hung his head over his drink, as Tanner rattled shit off in my ear.

“We’ve spotted Chops at the strip club. You need to get over here. He’s at the fucking strip club and not as a client.”

“Shit,” I hissed. “Want me to bring Cole, too?”

“Is he drinking at the clubhouse?”

“Just water.”

“Then yeah, bring him along, too. We’re going to need a lot of muscle power, because if Chops spots—”

I marched back out to the table and tapped Cole on the shoulder twice. “We’re on our way. Give us fifteen minutes.”

“Take the back roads and make it ten. This isn’t good at all.”

“What’s going on?” Cole asked as I hung up the phone.

I slid it back into my pocket. “Chops is at the strip club.”

He chuckled. “Wanting a nice lap dance from some chick he can’t have?”

I glared at him. “He’s not there as a client.”

And the second the words flew out of my mouth, Cole bolted for the front door.

With me tightly on his heels as we raced out to our bikes.