Hushed by Kelley York Page B

and tried to turn it around on us, saying he caught Viv sneaking me into her room at night or something like that.”
    Evan didn’t speak, but he stepped closer. Archer could feel the warmth at his back.
    “Marissa was the only one who believed Viv. She kicked Brody out of the house. Tried getting Vivian to therapy for awhile, but she refused to go.”
    “Richter was one of the guys,” Evan murmured.
    “Yes.” His voice wavered. “If you’d seen her… She was such a sweet girl. Never wanted to hurt anyone, never wanted anything but to be mommy’s little girl. Before that night, the only person she ever wanted was me. Afterward, everything changed. She changed.” He clutched at his chest. Wanted to dig his fingers in and claw out his heart to stop it from aching. “Nothing I did was ever good enough. Like she couldn’t look at me because I knew what happened to her.”
    Evan circled around to stand in front of him. Archer couldn’t meet his eyes. Not when his own blurred over and his entire body shook with the bottled-up fury. He’d kept it shoved so deep down, and Evan had no right to make him dig it all up again.
    No. Not his fault. No one makes me do anything I don’t want to.
    A hand touched his shoulder. Then lifted to his cheek, brushing back some of the hair from his face. Evan’s fingers were warm even while the rest of Archer shuddered in the cold.
    “You did everything you could for her, Archer.” The hand on his face prompted him to lift his chin and meet Evan’s eyes whether he liked it or not. “But you can’t help her if she doesn’t want to be helped. You can’t hurt other people; it’s wrong no matter what angle you look at it from. And you sure as hell can’t kill yourself trying to make her happy forever.” His eyes were nothing but concern. Nothing like Vivian’s or his mother’s… There was no cold distance. No reluctance.
    Archer couldn’t stand the thought of him looking away. He needed this—the one last string keeping him grounded. “I don’t know what to do.”
    Evan gave a reluctant smile. “A therapist could answer that kind of thing better than I could. But I hate seeing her do this to you over and over again—reeling you in, throwing you out. I know letting someone go isn’t easy when they’ve been your whole world for so long.”
    Let Vivian go? Archer couldn’t begin to fathom how to do that. Sure, she said she didn’t want to see him anymore, but he didn’t really think it would last. Eventually, she’d have enough of Mick or—more likely—Mickey would get bored and leave her, and she’d come crawling back for Archer to pick up the pieces. When she came to ask him for his help, how did he tell her no?
    “You’re shaking.” Evan touched his face again. Archer ducked his head. Such a fleeting touch, but when Evan began to draw away, he had to fight the urge to grab his hand and keep it there. “C’mon. Let’s get you inside.”
    He allowed himself to be ushered up the beach. Inside, his feet hurt the second they started to warm up. Walking took a bit of effort, his insides still simmering with the intake of alcohol. He wasn’t drunk, he didn’t think, but buzzed. Definitely buzzed. What a fitting term for it. The world did seem a little buzz-y.
    Evan didn’t appear any worse for wear even though he’d drank twice as much. He pulled back the bed covers, waited while Archer got out of his coat and shirt and crawled beneath.
    Archer buried his face into a pillow, breathing deep. He hoped Evan didn’t close the doors. Part of him wanted to open his eyes and see what Evan was doing, moving around the room, but all the energy had drained right out of him. The wine his body was so unused to, the flurry of thoughts and emotions… All he wanted was to shove it all outside of himself and hide beneath the blankets and Evan’s warmth—which he already severely missed.
    The mattress shifted with added weight and Evan slid into bed alongside him. Archer