throat. "You got a problem staying here with me, Sunshine?"
His jaw moved, but no sounds came out as he quickly recognized the lose-lose situation he was in. Yeah, smart boy.
"Alright, good chat," Steele said with a laugh, pushing back from the table. "Come on, Kody, before Hellcat changes her mind."
I rolled my eyes and finished off my waffles as they hurried to get dressed and armed up. Archer muttered under his breath but placed a call to Zed to see if he could spare any backup to keep an eye on the hotel.
"We'll wait until the wolves get here," Kody told us as he checked his own phone.
"Don't," Archer replied. "Every second we hesitate, we risk Kruger slipping away. We're not leaving this room, and nothing is getting past me in the next fifteen minutes. Just go."
"Seconded," I agreed. "Besides, I'm not exactly a helpless damsel anymore either. Arch and I can handle ourselves; you guys go deal with that motherfucker who killed my mom."
Both Kody and Steele looked torn, but quickly kissed me and headed out to meet up with James. As the door closed behind them, I turned to face Archer with my hands on my hips.
"What's that look for?" he asked, his eyes narrowed in suspicion and his brow furrowed.
"Sunshine," I replied with a stern voice, "you're not seriously still planning to fight next week?"
One of his brows raised. "Why wouldn't I?"
I gaped at him. "Oh gee, I dunno, maybe because you have a gunshot wound in your arm?"
He just let a slow smile creep over his lips as he tugged me into his lap. He was sitting on the sofa, so I straddled his waist but carefully avoided touching his bandaged bicep.
"Princess," he replied with a low chuckle, "it's adorable that you're worried for my wellbeing. But this little scratch isn't going to stop me from fighting... or anything else."
I dragged my teeth over my lower lip, locking eyes with him. "Oh yeah? Prove it."
A wicked grin flashed over his face, and the next thing I knew, I was flat on my back against the couch with his heavy frame on top of me. I let out a shriek of laughter as he pinned my wrists over my head, but whatever he had planned next was cut short by the ringing of his phone.
"Answer it," I urged him, sobering up. "It might be the guys."
He let me go and grabbed for his phone, wincing slightly at the movement on his injured arm. The scowl he gave his screen told me it wasn't Kody or Steele, though.
"Cass," he said, answering the call on speakerphone. "What's going on?"
"Wish I knew," the older gangster rumbled back. "Is the kid there with you?"
"I'm here," I spoke up, frowning at the tense way he snapped out his words. "What's wrong?"
He blew out a sigh. "No idea. But Zane's up to something. I reckon it's got something to do with you."
Archer and I exchanged a worried glance. "Why do you think that?" Arch asked cautiously.
Cass grunted. "Little fuck had a meeting this morning with his inner circle."
"Nothing suspicious with that," Archer murmured, confused.
"Without me," Cass elaborated. "He's been acting shady for a few weeks, but shit just got weird these last few days."
Archer snorted and rolled his eyes. "Since when is Zane not shady?"
"Worse," Cass grunted. "Anyway, I don't have much more. Just keep all eyes on the kid. Whatever is going on, it's about her."
I bit my lip, meeting Archer's concerned gaze with my heart in my throat. We really didn't need to add another player to the board this late in the game.
"Gotta go," Cass growled. "Stay alert."
He ended the call, and Archer ran his hand over his hair, then cursed.
"What do we do?" I asked in a quiet voice. Worry was knotting my stomach, but I had confidence in all Archer had already done to safeguard us.
He shook his head, thinking. "Nothing," he finally said. "The worst thing we can do right now is leave here. Ryan and Adamson are still guarding the door, and the Timberwolves will be here as backup soon. We just stay put and hope my brother isn't really stupid enough to try anything."
I groaned. "He is, though, isn't he?"
Archer sighed. "If he is, I'll kill him. Simple as that."
Yet somehow, that didn't make me feel better. Did I want Archer to have his own brother's blood on his hands? It was bad enough that I'd carry Samuel Danvers’s death with me forever—not that I