Hushed (10 page)

Tuesday, October 14
^th

Needing a few moments of silence, Archer headed home after classes to take a nap before his outing with Viv. Something told him he would need the rest.

He couldn’t sleep. Instead he called the hospital to check on Marissa, then stared at his phone for the better part of thirty minutes. Contemplating calling Evan. Not sure what to say to him if he did.

As it turned out, he didn’t need to. Evan called him. The ringing jolted him out of the half-asleep state he’d slipped into and he answered before the second ring.

“…Hello?”

“
Hey.
” Immediately, Archer noticed Evan’s tone was off. “
How are things?
”

“Fine,” he said, cautious. Trying to reflect back on whether there was something he’d done or said that warranted that kind of tone. “What’s up? Is everything all right?”

“Sure, everything’s fine. Just got out of class.”
A pause. “
Vivian said you two were going out tonight.
”

Good thing he was already lying down or his legs would’ve buckled. “What?”

“I told you I had a class with her. Not sure why she felt the need to tell me, but…
”

Damn her.
Archer didn’t know why either. She and Evan were on cordial-enough terms, but not enough that Viv would’ve announced to him she was going out with anyone. Let alone him. He didn’t know what to say. Everything, even the honest truth, felt like an admission of guilt. “She told me she was sorry and didn’t want us to drift apart. She also promised it was over with her and Mick. He wouldn’t even go see Marissa in the hospital the other day…” He trailed off. Maybe he should shut up. Maybe he was making it worse.

“
Look, Archer. You don’t have to justify your actions to me. Do what you want. Maybe I should’ve stayed out of it to begin with.”

No…

“Her mom’s dying. I can’t just–” he grit his teeth, “if she’s willing to try…to
really
try this time, shouldn’t I give her the chance?”

Evan was silent. When he spoke his voice was soft, defeated. “
Yeah, sure. Just…hit me up when you’re free.
”

It wasn’t a victory that made him feel any better. His heart sank. “Saturday…do you want to do something then?” It occurred to Archer he’d never asked Evan to go do anything before. Usually it was the other way around.

“
I guess. Give me a call later and let me know. Bye.
” He hung up before Archer had the chance to say it back.

§

Vivian showed up that night wearing a knee-length dress, heels and a shawl, with her hair pinned up, looking refreshed and better than she had in awhile. She posed in the living room, turning full circle. “Do I look okay?”

Archer fumbled with the zipper on his jacket, trying to keep his eyes on her face instead of the V-neck showing off more cleavage than was necessary. He wanted to grab her and press a kiss there, just a few inches below her collarbone. “Stupid question. You’re beautiful and you know it.”

“No, I don’t.” She let her arms drop with a pout, stepping over to nudge his hands away so she could do up the last few buttons of his shirt. When she was done, she smoothed her hands up his chest. He stared down at them, transfixed. “Besides, I like hearing you say it.”

Archer lifted his gaze to meet her eyes, helpless. “You’re beautiful.”

Vivian’s face lit up. She drew him down and planted a kiss against his cheek. “You’re not looking so bad yourself, handsome.” She whirled and danced away, out of his reach.

He tried to center himself and shove aside the feel of her hands, her mouth, the curve of her breasts pressed against him when she’d leaned in. His weekend had been spent with enough awkward moments with Evan; he didn’t need a repeat performance.

They took his car at her insistence. His eyes kept scanning the dashboard, the floorboards, in search of any remaining blood. Vivian crossed her legs and messed with the radio, oblivious.

Being in his car reminded him, though… “Did you hear about Richter Samuels?”

Viv’s fingers stopped on the buttons. She cocked her head, frowning. “Oh, yeah. I meant to tell you about that. How’d you find out?”

“Detective came by my house.” Nonchalant, calm. No sense in letting her know how nervous he was. “Said he was murdered.”

“Same here.” She settled on a radio station and sat back, staring out the window. “He acted like I was a suspect or something, the asshole. The world’s better off.”

Vivian, a suspect. The thought hadn’t even crossed his mind. “What all did you tell him?”

She shrugged. “Nothing. Just told him I hated the guy for personal reasons.”

You probably weren’t a suspect before you opened your mouth…
He bit back a groan. Still, there was nothing tying Vivian to the crime. He could relax. “Does it make you happy?”

“What, that he’s dead?”

Archer nodded. She looked askance at him, brows drawing together. “I don’t know. I guess so. He’s just one out of the group, though I guess one is better than none.”

He perked up, taken back to the day of Jay’s death when Vivian had stared up at him with wide eyes, a mixture of frightened and in awe that one of her rapists was dead. Killing Brody didn’t make everything better, of course. Brody was there, sure, but he hadn’t been the one to hurt her. That crime lay on the heads of his friends. If he found the last two and killed them, she would be free.
Really
free.

Archer dropped the subject and tried to hang on to his renewed hope.

§

They ate dinner at a place about thirty minutes from The Grove, Archer intent on not running into anyone they knew. Vivian ordered lobster, like she always did. No surprise there. Afterward, he took her downtown, where they wandered the streets and the mall. When they passed by Fly’s, Archer couldn’t help the stab of guilt. He needed to call Evan, but he couldn’t get past feeling bad. He wanted things to go well with Vivian so he could prove she was trying, she was getting better. Even if he was scared to believe it himself.

Vivian took his hand and tugged him away from the arcade to a nearby jewelry shop, oohing over a pair of earrings. Archer couldn’t see anything special about them. “Don’t you already have enough diamonds?”

She gave him an incredulous look. “A girl can
never
have too many diamonds.”

He managed to lure her away with the promise of ice cream without her splurging on jewelry she’d undoubtedly lose. It wasn’t until she had a vanilla ice cream cone in her hands and they were heading outside that she surprised him with, “So, what’s going on with you and Evan?”

Hello, out-of-nowhere.
Archer frowned. “What do you mean?”

Viv ran her tongue over the ice cream and licked her lips. “You went out of town with him last weekend. And you weren’t returning my calls. Either you left your phone at home, or you were awfully busy.” She kept her gaze straight ahead, tone calm.

And this conversation felt very déjà-vu of his call with Evan the other day. He grimaced. “Phone was at home. We just…wanted to get away for a few nights.” When Vivian turned and stared at him, he could feel the heat creeping into his face.

“So you two are…like…an item?”

The familiar little tendrils of tension were creeping up between his shoulder blades, but he wasn’t sure why. What reason did he have to be defensive over that question? “I didn’t say that.”

“You didn’t deny it, either.”

“He’s a good friend, Vivian. Is that bad?”

“No, no.” She took another bite of her dessert. “Just weird. Not weird that you have a friend, weird because…well, okay, it
is
weird that you have a friend. You don’t usually do well with people that aren’t me.”

“Evan’s different. There’s something about him…hard not to like.” What embarrassed him more, the way Vivian was staring at him or having to admit something like that?

Viv’s eyes crinkled at the corners when she smiled. “That’s good. I worry about you not having enough friends, so…yeah. It’s a good thing.”

Archer didn’t know why she felt the need to say it like she had to convince him. He knew that. But the way she took hold of his hand and didn’t let go, he started to wonder if
she
really did.

“You know…” She chucked the remainder of her ice-cream cone in a nearby trash can. “Instead of going to a movie, let’s order something at your place,” she said. Immediately, a knot formed in his stomach. Something wasn’t right. He stopped walking and looked at her. Vivian met his gaze easily, leading his hand up to her face. Her skin was impossibly soft beneath his fingers.

This wasn’t right at all. This kind of charm…it was what she put on when she wanted a guy’s attention. Not his, though. Never his. But damn her, it had the desired effect. His pulse thrummed and he was definitely thinking things he knew he shouldn’t. It made his eyes drop down to her throat, lower to her chest. Vivian tugged on his hand.

“Please?”

No. No, no, no. Bad idea.
He swallowed hard and thought of Evan, thought about the ocean and sunsets on the beach. He thought of Vivian standing there, doing nothing, while Mickey tossed him out of the apartment.

“There’s nothing good playing that we can watch from home,” he lied. Well, maybe it was a lie; he didn’t honestly know what was playing. “I thought you really wanted to see that horror movie at the theater?”

Vivian leaned back and stared at him, brows lifting. At first, he expected her to argue and press him further. But eventually she sighed and let her arms drop, though she kept hold of his hand. “Okay, okay. Let’s go before we’re late.”

Archer exhaled. Possible crisis diverted.
Was it a crisis? Isn’t this what I wanted?
Vivian’s undivided attention and affection. To welcome the possibilities being alone with her would bring. It wasn’t the situation he was afraid of; it was what would happen
after
.

But for now, he didn’t have to worry about it. He and Vivian went to the theater up the street, and she didn’t once let go of his hand.

The list. He needed to finish the list. Neither of them would ever be free until he did.

Saturday, October 18
^th

“Never heard anything back from that cop, huh?”

Evan shifted beside him on their blanket. Archer stared up at the sky, wondering how likely it was to start raining. It was getting too cold to relax on the beach without his shoes, and he almost wished he’d brought a second blanket.

“No, nothing.”

They hadn’t spoken about it since their weekend away. Evan hadn’t pushed the issue, hadn’t asked further questions, and Archer sure as hell wasn’t going to offer information.

“You don’t think they found anything there, do you?” Evan sat up, leaning on his hands. His face came into Archer’s line of view, worried brown eyes coaxing a small smile from him. He wanted to take a finger and smooth out that frown.

“Like what?”

“I don’t know. DNA, fingerprints, whatever it is they look for.”

“I doubt it.” Archer let his eyes trace the lines of Evan’s features. He stared at his mouth, contemplating how to get him to smile again. Worry was unnecessary. “They would’ve taken someone into custody if they found anything like that and had a match for it.”

“How do you know they haven’t?” Evan’s expression softened.

If they did, they have the wrong guy.
“Just a feeling.”

This game they were playing…it was stupid. Evan had to know for sure by now he was Richter’s murderer. If he didn’t, he was in denial. Still, it was the elephant in the room neither of them wanted to point out.

Evan sat back and stared out over the water. “Do you think anyone else will die?”

Archer sighed, running a hand over his face. “People die all the time, Evan.”

“You know what I mean.”

Yes, he did.
Are you going to kill anyone else?
A lie would’ve been the best response, but he couldn’t. “I don’t know. If they do, I’m sure they deserve it.” It wasn’t like he had a choice. Vivian
needed
this, and he’d sworn years ago to go through with it no matter what. Richter’s death still had him shaken up enough that he just wasn’t sure how to go about dealing with Hector and Bobby.

Archer pushed himself to his elbows when he was met with silence. Evan had drawn his legs up, chin propped atop his knees.

“What is it?”

And, as per usual, Evan seemed to shove whatever he really wanted to say aside and smiled at him instead. “It’s getting dark. Should we head back?”

“Your place or mine?”

Evan shrugged. “More to do at my place. No offense, but yours is kind of boring.”

Archer smiled wryly. Truth. And unlike with Vivian, he had no anxiety about being alone with Evan. In fact, he preferred it. It was how they’d ended up wandering down the beach, away from The Grove, and camping out for the last two hours with their rolled-up jackets for pillows.

Evan shook out their blanket and draped it around Archer’s shoulders. “You always get cold so easily. Maybe you’re meant for desert weather.”

“I don’t think so.” Still, he huddled into the fabric and held it around himself while they trekked up the beach for the parking lot. Evan turned on the heat as soon as the engine was going. Archer leaned back and relaxed. There’d been a point in time where he hated letting other people drive, but with Evan it wasn’t so bad.

Halfway home, his phone beeped. He started to go for his pocket, stopped, and forced himself to ignore it. This was his time with Evan. Nobody else needed to matter. Not ten seconds later, it beeped again. And again. Archer ignored it. On the eighth or ninth beep, Evan finally laughed. “Oh, goddamn. Just answer it.”

“No,” he growled stubbornly. Vivian knew he was out with Evan. She didn’t need to bother him. “I’ll turn it off.” He pulled out his phone to do so, and it progressed from insistent text messages to an incoming call. Archer set his jaw, staring at Viv’s name across the screen.

“It’s fine, man,” Evan said. “Go ahead.”

His calmness in the matter made Archer all the more irritated at Vivian. He didn’t bother to hide it when he answered with, “What?”

Vivian’s voice was so loud on the other end he had to hold it away from his ear. It took her a few tries before she could speak.

“
The hospital… It’s Mom…”

Every nerve in his body froze.
What about her?
he wanted to ask, but couldn’t. He couldn’t stomach what she might say. “Are you at the hospital now?” She managed a barely audible ‘yes.’ “I’ll be there.” He hung up without saying good-bye and stared down at the screen. “I need to get home.”

There were no questions, no sidelong looks. Evan simply made a turn at the next intersection. “That’d be a waste of time. Let’s go.”

§

Archer didn’t look for Vivian when he got off the elevator on Marissa’s floor. He headed straight down the hall with Evan at his back. Passing by the tiny lobby near Marissa’s room, he heard Viv’s voice and halted.

She stood up from her seat, wiping her eyes, looking much the same as she had the last time he saw her there. Puffy-eyed, barely holding herself together. Her arms went around his neck, and she clung to him for dear life. If she noticed Evan, she didn’t acknowledge his presence. Archer hugged her stiffly. “What’s going on?”

She shook her head, silent through her tears for a few minutes. A nurse in green scrubs stepped around the corner from the direction of Marissa’s room. “Are you Ms. Hilton’s son?”

He faltered. “What?”

“Yes, this is Archer.” Vivian drew back, trying to mop up her tears.

The nurse turned sympathetic eyes to Archer and Vivian both. Her voice was soft. “I’m really sorry I don’t have better news. Her heart’s giving out. We’ve managed to bring her back twice now, but it’s…getting harder.”

Vivian made a noise, turning to press her face against his shoulder, hiding there.

“At this point, I think we’re only prolonging her suffering.” The nurse looked between them, obviously waiting for them to say something. To ask questions, perhaps. To ask what they should do. But Archer was too numb. Utterly, completely numb.

“You want us to let her die?” he whispered.

“It’s never an easy choice,” the nurse said gently. “But this isn’t helping her. I think signing the DNR papers would be in her best interest. Of course, the choice is up to you.”

No, not up to me. I’m not her son.
Vivian sobbed against his shoulder. He put an arm around her, stroking her hair. “Viv…”

“I can’t just tell them to
let her die
,” she managed, jerking her head back to stare at him. She looked so lost, so helpless. He should’ve felt sympathy for her, but he couldn’t feel a damned thing.

She’s my mom, too,
he wanted to remind her. He couldn’t make this kind of decision any easier than she could. But more than Marissa’s life, more than her death, Archer couldn’t stomach the idea of her suffering. What would Marissa have wanted?

From around the corner, an alarm went off. Everyone froze. A rush of movement and voices exploded from Marissa’s room, and Archer’s stomach dropped, heart lurching into his throat. The nurse sucked in a breath—“Again?”—and disappeared without a word. Archer untangled himself from Vivian, pushing her away, stumbling forward while she burst into tears.

He tore around the corner for Marissa’s door, silently hoping he’d see the nurses and doctors hurrying into someone else’s room. But there they were, clamoring around Marissa’s bed and with the curtains half-drawn so all he could see were her feet. The alarm sparked sharp and vivid through his nerves like a live wire. A male nurse stepped away from the group, putting a hand to his chest.

“Sir, you can’t come in here.”

No no no.
What did that even
mean?
He had to be in there. Marissa didn’t know these people. She
needed
him and Vivian. He started to shove the nurse aside but Evan was behind him, arms around him, pulling him back, saying his name again and again.

Someone yelled,
“Clear!”
The alarm continued. Long, continuous, unbroken.

He couldn’t breathe. His muscles trembled and shook and he sank back, chest heaving. Evan drew him to the wall opposite the door and held him tight, but he didn’t have the energy to struggle. The monitors continued to flatline. One minute. Two.

Until a doctor emerged to tell them Marissa was dead.