Graphically Novel (Love Hashtagged #3) (6 page)

Ambivalence surged through Archer when Tori stepped into the shop. He couldn’t believe he lost his cool last night, with Elliot around. And seeing her now—a hint of joy playing on her face and her posture relaxed—the unfamiliar jealousy danced with denial under his skin. Whatever was wrong with him, he needed to tone it back and get it under control. It was none of his business who Tori went out with.

He forced himself to smile. “Free of the chains, two days in a row? Is that a record?”

“Something like that.” A waver ran through her laugh. She settled onto one of the wooden stools behind the counter resting her hands by her thighs on the seat.

He forced his attention to stay on her face. He wouldn’t stare at her cleavage, the seductive curve of her breasts, and the way her narrow waist vanished into gorgeously grabable hips. He’d make small talk instead. “How was your date?”

“Not bad. Not fantastic, but you can’t click with everyone, you know?”

A smattering of relief trickled through him. Two boys, maybe eleven or twelve, wandered into the shop. Their shirts had an expensive designer’s name on them, and their jeans sagged almost to their knees.

Both glared at him. The shorter one elbowed the taller one, whose upper lip pulled in a sneer. “What are you looking at?”

Great. A headache, and they probably wouldn’t spend a dime. Archer shook his head and turned away. They weren’t worth the grief. He’d let them talk their shit and leave when they realized the store was a troll-free zone. As long as no one else came in for them to bait in the meantime, it wouldn’t be an issue.

“Damn straight.” The snide retort hit his back. “Fucking pedo.”

Archer clenched his teeth and turned to Tori again. He wouldn’t react. He wouldn’t pound the boys into a pulp, because it wouldn’t solve anything, and more importantly, because he didn’t want to deal with assault charges. It was half the reason he had the shop completely wired with cameras. Sure, it helped prevent theft, but the digital eye didn’t lie in a civil case.

Tori twisted her mouth to the side, a new shadow falling over her eyes. If this level of confrontation was bugging him, it had to be devouring her. He was surprised she hadn’t found an excuse to vanish into the back room. Maybe she was finally getting used to the fact that some people were just misery-spewing assholes.

“Anyway. What are you up to today?”

She leaned to the side, glanced at something behind him, and then straightened again. “Not sure yet. I’m not used to having an entire free Saturday. If you weren’t working, I’d say we should go do that Alpine Coaster thing again.”

The flood of memories slammed back into him, bringing tastes and smells to tempt him. His cock twitched. Maybe if they found somewhere more secluded, they could get further than they had in the mountains. “Derrek’s coming in at three.”

Her smile grew, eyes pulling up at the corners, and then vanished when she looked over his shoulder again. “You can leave that at the counter until you’re ready to pay.” There was a waver to her voice.

Archer looked, to find the boys standing near the front door, the taller one’s jeans not hanging as well as when they came in.

The shorter one whispered something. The taller one’s sneer returned.

“I’m not carrying anything.” His voice cracked, disrupting his lie.

Tori’s arm brushed Archer’s, as she moved to stand next him. A glance out of the corner of his eye told him her arms were crossed.

“The figurine you shoved down the leg of your pants. You need to pay for it.” Her tone was firmer now. More clear and confident.

The taller kid took a step back and ran into the shorter one’s hand. The taller kid said, “Fuck you, bitch. You can’t accuse me of carrying shit so you have an excuse to make me drop my pants.”

Archer clenched his jaw, and all the frustration from the night before rushed back, this time with a target. He crossed the room quickly, stopped short of the pair, and rose to full height. “The young lady said you’ve got something on you.”

Shorty nudged his companion again, who mimicked Archer’s arms-crossed-and-shoulders-back posture. The occasional crack in his voice would’ve been funny, if not for the words he spewed. “Your bitch doesn’t belong in a comic book store. Why don’t you leave us alone, you fucking pedo, and go find out what a real pussy feels like? Take the whore in the back room and rape her until she knows her place is in the fucking kitchen.”

Archer wouldn’t pound the kid into a pulp. Fists clenched, he uncrossed his arms and took another step forward. There was no reason to let the punk know he considered restraint.

Both kids stepped back at the abrupt threat, and a plastic-wrapped collectible dropped from the leg of the older one’s pants and tumbled to the ground.

“Get out before I call the police and have your asses hauled to jail until you’re old enough to buy booze.” Archer spoke between clenched teeth, but his growl echoed back from the walls.

“Fucking pedophile. Feminist asshole,” the kid said. This time, he ignored his friend’s nudge and dragged him out the front door, occasionally glancing over his shoulder. His pace quickened when Archer took another step toward the door.

He wouldn’t go after the kids. They weren’t worth the hassle. Even if every bit of him wanted to pound their skulls until those boys learned respect. He grabbed the toy from the floor and raised an eyebrow when he realized it was one of his rare imports—a two-hundred-fifty dollar Japanese collectible.

He turned back to Tori, frowning when he saw her arms were still crossed, her fingers digging into her skin hard enough to leave pale marks. He set the toy aside and stepped closer to her. “Are you okay?”

She nodded, jaw clenched.

“You sure?” He caressed the back of her knuckles with his thumb.

“I’m fine.” Her reply was raspy.

He pointed her back to the stool, grabbed a bottle of soda from the refrigerated case behind the counter, and twisted off the top before handing it to her. “Thanks for rescuing Nao.”

“I didn’t do it for her; I did it for you.”

An impulse snaked through him, and he pushed aside the desire to dip his head and brush his lips over hers. Instead, he took a step back and leaned against the counter. “Then, double thank you.”

*

Tori shook the glass bottle, and the marble inside rattled around the bottom. The melon
ramune
Archer had pulled for her vanished half an hour ago, but watching the trinket inside kept her from thinking about the scene with the would-be shoplifters. Every time portions of the confrontation flitted through her thoughts, her gut churned.

Archer kept up more than his share of the conversation, occasionally asking if she was okay.

The door chimed, and out of instinct, Tori swiveled her head toward the noise. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Archer do the same. It was Gwen, but not the woman who ran the diner down the street or dressed casually when Tori saw her with Brad. In her high heels, she was almost as tall as Archer. And they were nice heels. The matte black matched her slacks, and her white blouse hung like silk and didn’t have a single wrinkle in it.

Looking past her, Tori saw a high-end SUV parked next to the curb outside, and the boys from earlier sat in the back seat, flipping Tori off from the rolled-down window.

“I always wondered what it looked like in here.” Gwen swept her gaze around the room, lingering on a few spots, before giving Tori a quick smile and turning back to Archer. “I hear you met my charming nephews.” She gestured at her clothes. “
I
dressed nice for lunch with my brother, but his kids are wearing jeans that sag past their asses.”

Tori might have been confused by the almost cool demeanor but it was one of Brad’s tricks. Give nothing away until the situation had been assessed. The question was, why did Gwen need to do that here? Why wasn’t she profusely apologizing instead?

Archer stood up straight, hands at his sides, gaze never leaving Gwen’s. “That’s one way to describe them.”

Tori wasn’t sure she wanted to see whatever this was. Deep down, she wanted to hide in the back room until the conversation was over, but she sat frozen to the chair, afraid moving would draw unwanted attention.

“The older one—Robby—tells me you threatened him with physical violence”—Gwen’s lips drew into a thin line—“and told him he was a worthless little punk and you were going to nail his ass to the wall.”

Tori coughed, and Gwen glanced in her direction before turning back to Archer.

“I’m sorry, that’s not the case. The boys were shoplifting. Tori stopped them. I threatened to call the cops on them, but no one touched anyone,” he said.

“Are you calling my nephew a liar?”

Tori’s confusion levels peaked. What the hell was going on? This woman, with those asshole kids as nephews, was about to marry her brother.

Archer’s Adam’s apple bobbed up and down, and his back went stiff. “You asked what happened, and I told you.”

“Because you’re making a serious accusation. Those darling angels”—her voice wavered then evened again—“have never been caught doing anything like what you say, and there are serious legal repercussions involved in making a claim like yours.”

Tori couldn’t do this. She knew Archer was going to stay as neutral as possible, and she knew his reasons, but this was different. She wasn’t going to let some snotty, stuck-up kid tattle after being an unforgivable ass and get away with it. She leaned over to the computer tied to the register, hit the right keys to exit the point-of-sale software, and then pulled up the directory with the security backups in it. She licked her lips. “Drop the bullshit act. This isn’t a business negotiation.”

“It could be. Prove otherwise.”

Nervous, sick adrenaline coursed through Tori. “Did you see the sign when you walked in the store, saying we reserve the right to refuse service to anyone?”

“I did. I also saw the Better Business Bureau sign next to it. Have you dealt with formal complaints from them before?”

Tori swallowed a gulp of air, hands shaking against her knees. “Then I’m also certain you saw the signs warning that the shop is under twenty-four-hour surveillance and all interactions are recorded?”

“I did.”

Tori turned the flat-screen monitor and started the footage from an hour ago. The abusive language echoed through the shop for the second time that day, and her gut threatened to evict its contents, but she swallowed back the sick and sat through the entire scene.

“Son of a bitch, you caught him.” The edge was gone from Gwen’s voice, replaced with something softer.

“Excuse me?”

Gwen dropped her purse on the counter, shoulders sinking. “I’m not stupid. I know the little fuckers aren’t angels, and I know their father lets them get away with murder—well not literally. Not yet, anyway. They’re deceptive, and they’re good at what they do. Somewhere along the way, they learned how to spot cameras in shops and always keep out of view of them.”

“Mine are well hidden.” Archer hadn’t relaxed.

Tori might not think much of Zane, but he was good at what he did, and that included wiring the comic shop with cameras no one could see and setting them to write the footage to a series of secure hard drives, with real time cloud backup.

Gwen glanced around the room. “I see that. Or rather, I don’t. I’m impressed. I need to get the name of your guy—gal, whatever—and see if they can hook me up.” She grabbed the cordless phone off the counter and handed it to Archer. “I’d like you to press charges.”

“You would?”

“I wasn’t trying to be a bitch. You’re all but family. It’s that the accusations have never stuck before, and it’s too much hassle to deal with them if there’s no proof.” She nodded at the figurine on the counter. “If that price tag is correct, it’s grand larceny. You have them on tape, they were shoplifting, and I know it’s not my place to discipline them, but if their dad won’t, I’d really like to teach them a lesson while they’re still young enough to learn. Please, call the police. Press charges.”

Archer was already dialing, before he talked to a dispatcher, and explained the situation.

Tori knew they still weren’t getting the whole story. “So you know they’re brats, and you let them wander down here alone? Did one of us piss you off?”

“I try to avoid places like this at all costs.” Gwen’s smile turned sheepish, the first crack in her exterior since she’d walked in, and pink peeked through her makeup.

Tori sat up straighter, indignation running through her again. “There’s nothing wrong with this place.”

“Except I would spend a small fortune on Archer’s figurines.” Gwen’s smile became a wide grin. “I love it in here. How do you not go broke in a place like this?”

The conversation lightened and continued to flow after Archer got off the phone. When the police showed up, they took Archer’s statement, pulled Gwen aside, and eventually took the boys away in handcuffs in the back of their cruiser.

Derrek walked through the front door as the excitement wound down. “Did I miss something?”

Tori felt drained. The conversation with Gwen hadn’t been bad, but the rest of the day had dragged her through the wringer, leaving her insides a crumpled mess.