"Let me go, please," I pleaded, my gaze lowered to his chest.
"I will when you've calmed down," he replied in his deep voice, the rumbling vibrations reaching me.
"I'm calm," I whispered, and he slowly released his grip, stepping back abruptly. I took a shaky breath. "Did you do all of this? Renovate my home, bury my brother without notifying me?"
I needed something to distract myself from the pain and loss, and he seemed like the perfect target for my anger. Silence enveloped the grounds. I noticed Chad had left, leaving me alone with Archer. When he didn't respond, I had no choice but to look up at his face. My heart constricted as I saw his eyes fixed on Mark's unmarked grave. I remembered then that they were friends, and he had lost a friend just like I had lost a brother.
"Archer..." I called.
"It's cold. You should return to the house," he said, turning around and walking away down the path.
"I want to stay," I replied, my voice trembling.
"Mark isn't there, Adele," he said, continuing on his way. My chest shook as I took a deep breath, tears blurring my vision once again. "Mark, this wasn't the plan," I whispered, and more tears flowed. My eyes settled on our mother's grave, and questions filled my mind. 'What happened to her, Mark?' I wondered silently as if he could hear me. "Mark isn't there, Adele." Archer's words echoed in my head, and I wondered what they meant. A gust of cold wind hit me, making me shiver, and I turned away, retracing my steps back to the house. I wasn't surprised to find Archer's men waiting for me on the path.
I walked past them, discreetly glancing back to see them following me. I wondered if Archer still had enemies after him. I thought that issue had been resolved with the attack on his family estate long ago. I had yet to learn how many security details wealthy people required. I had seen examples with celebrities on television, but the Donovans seemed to have a sizable contingent of guards. Once the house came into view, I saw Archer waiting on the back porch. It felt surreal that this was still our place.
Avoiding his gaze, I saw him open the back door for me, and I walked inside. The warm interior embraced me, dispelling the chill of the outdoors. My heart weighed heavily, and all I wanted was to go to my room, curl up in bed, and let the tears flow. This sudden turn of events in my life was overwhelming, but instead, I headed to the basement, the sanctuary my brother had created. Archer didn't say a word, and I tried to ignore his presence, but his scent wrapped around me like a comforting cocoon I couldn't escape.
Descending the basement stairs, I saw that aside from the renovated walls and replaced fixtures, everything else remained the same. I breathed a sigh of relief. Making my way to my favorite corner, the same spot where I had almost been killed and violated before, I lowered myself to the floor and sat with my legs folded, leaning against the wall. The place no longer felt the same, despite the familiar scent lingering in the air. It was warmer now, which offered some comfort but still felt strange.
I could sense Archer joining me without a word. His masculine scent filled the room, and I couldn't help but inhale it. I felt him sit beside me, his presence silent but comforting.
"Why did you renovate the house?" I finally asked, breaking the silence.
"To upset Mark?" he replied. My lips stretched into a smile, and then I started crying again. Archer gathered me into his arms, making me sit on his lap as he held me tightly against his chest.
"I'm here. I will always be here. I swear it," he rasped, his words vibrating against my hair. My entire body shook with sobs.
"I don't know what to do now. I was supposed to work and help him go back to school, to live without worrying so much about me. He sacrificed so much for me, and now he's gone."
"I don't think Mark needs you to work for him to go back to school, and I highly doubt he wanted to be stuck in a classroom," he said with a hint of amusement. I pulled back to search his eyes, giving him a questioning gaze.
"What do you mean?"
"Chad found some sort of starter package Mark had hidden here for you," he said carefully.
"A starter package?" I asked, intrigued.
"Yeah," he replied, "I told him to leave it where he found it."
My eyes immediately darted to the floorboards beneath Mark's knife rack. I glanced at Archer, and he nodded, confirming my suspicions. Pulling away from him, I went to the side wall, grabbing one of Mark's hunting knives. With it, I pried open the floorboards, revealing a wooden box. Sitting on my heels, I opened it with bated breath. Inside, there were bundles of cash wrapped in plastic bags, a concealed gun, a pocket knife, a taser, pepper spray, and a note. I chuckled at the collection, understanding why Archer called it a starter pack. Tears blurred my vision as I reached for the note, and it simply read, "This should help you settle down anywhere you choose. Remember, I'm always a phone call away. Love, Mark."
Uncontrollable tears streamed down my face, dropping onto the note as I shook with emotion. Archer wrapped his arms around me, closing the lid of the wooden box before taking it from my lap and putting it back. He replaced the floorboards, then lifted me from the ground, carrying me up the basement stairs and further up to my room. The room felt different, but I wasn't in the mood to explore. Archer placed me in bed, removed my boots, and pulled the covers over me. I felt his weight on the mattress, but he made no move to touch me again. I continued crying until no tears were left. Why would Mark leave something like this for me? It was as if he knew he might not be here when I found it. That thought made me wonder exactly what Mark had done to amass such a large sum of money. The only person who might know was Archer.
"Archer?" I called out.
"Hmm?"
"What kind of work was Mark involved in?" I asked, needing answers.