arms across my chest and leaning against the driver’s door. This way, he’d have to go through me to get in. He and I needed to have a chat. Archer didn’t know that I was more than willing to get my hands dirty for Jaz, to keep her safe, but that was something he should know. Unlike Vaughn, I still thought the lying jock was guilty, so I was going to treat him as such.
When I saw Archer emerge from the doors of the school, his bag slung over his shoulder and a vacant look on his face, I braced myself. He was a few inches shorter than me, but he did have some muscle on him. I’d gotten into it with him when I caught him with Jaz in the woods, all by their lonesome, his body stuck to hers like glue.
The fucker.
Didn’t he already fuck her over enough? No more Jaz for Archer Vega.
Jaz seemed to like him too much, even if everything was fishy around him. But that was fine—I would be Jaz’s common sense. I didn’t mind being the stronger arm here, teaching that guy a lesson yet again.
Archer’s blue eyes spotted me instantly, and his vacant stare morphed into one of distrust and disgust. I could tell he didn’t like me, but the feeling was mutual. He carried his head high as he met me near his vehicle, his keys in his hand. He fiddled with them as he held my stare, his square jaw tense.
“You’re in my way,” he said, as if I was just going to move.
Hah, yeah, right.
“Deal with it,” I growled out, wishing I had my switchblade on me. Archer was one I’d stab a few times, just for fun. Alas, that switchblade was tucked safely away in my motel room, since Midpark High had metal detectors and all that shit. I also refused to take the chance of getting caught with a murder weapon.
Archer’s gaze narrowed, and he sized me up. I hope the bastard was remembering how I’d pounded him when I caught him with Jaz. “What do you want?”
“I want you to own up,” I said. “Man up, nut up—whatever you want to call it—because I’m tired of seeing Jaz worry.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
My head was slow to tilt, and I glared at him, the glare of a man who was ready to kill for his girl. Whether or not I stared at another killer remained to be seen. Did Archer have it in him? Did he kill Brittany and try to frame Jaz for the murder? Maybe. Time would tell. Right now I wanted to put the fear of God in him, though.
And by God, I meant the Storm. As in me.
“Don’t be stupid,” I said, the sun hidden by light grey clouds over our heads.
Archer let out an annoyed sigh. “What do you want? Did Jaz put you up to this? Dude, I’m done, okay? It’s all done. You guys won. Ryan and his friends are dead, and now Brittany’s dead. My family is torn apart. Jaz got back at us all.”
It sure sounded like Archer was blaming Jaz for everything bad that had happened in the last few weeks.
“Jaz had nothing to do with it,” I said. “She had a plan for the dance, but that’s it. Whatever happened to Brittany, and whatever the fuck happened to you—she had no part in it.”
“And Ryan and his friends?”
I wasn’t about to admit it to him, so I simply said, “They got what was coming to them.”
Archer shook his head. “Maybe, but murder is still murder.”
“You best be careful,” I warned him, pushing off his car and stepping closer to him. I got in his face, scowling. “Not everyone’s falling for your act.”
His yellow eyebrows came together. “Act?” If I didn’t know any better, I’d say he was genuinely confused.
“You’re the only one who has something to gain by framing Jaz,” I told him. “You blame her for all the shit that’s been happening to you. You rich kids think your money can hide everything, but it can’t. Sooner or later the truth will come out, and it’s going to be ugly. Your life will be over.”
“The truth?” Archer echoed, looking even more confused than before. “My family’s truth was already out. If you’re trying to insinuate that I killed Brittany…get the fuck out of my face.” Though he took on an attitude, it wasn’t impressive.