12:35 p.m.

 

Day Two

 

As soon as she couldn't hear Santana's footsteps in the hallway anymore, Jo started hitting Archer again, slapping him hard across the side of his head.

“What the shit, Jo? Stop it!” he yelled, grabbing at her arms again. She yanked free and leapt out of her seat.

“Don't touch me! You don't get to fucking touch me! Drug dealer!?” she shouted, backing away from him as he stood up.

“I know, I know! I lied to you. I lied so much to you,” he groaned, following her as she tried to move around the large desk.

“No shit! Jesus, who are you, Archer?” she demanded, shoving a leather and wood office chair at him before scrambling to the other side of the room.

“I'm still the same guy,” he insisted. “You've known me forever. I like carrot cake, and I drink too much, and I'm completely stupid for my sexy neighbor.”

“Too bad she doesn't feel the same way.”

“I think she feels exactly the same way.”

“Stop it!” she shrieked. “Stop being cute! Who the fuck are you!? How could you not tell me any of this?”

“Because I know you, Jo. You're a good person. Way too good for someone like me. That's why I never asked you out, why I never tried anything with you,” he explained, following her as she kept moving around the room,.

“But I'm not so good that you couldn't just leave me the fuck alone? Years, Archer! We've lived down the hall from each other for years, I see you almost every day. How could you not mention any of this? How have you been hiding all this?” she asked, getting trapped between a ficus tree and a bookshelf as he walked towards her.

“Construction seemed like a good cover,” he told her. “Something that would keep me busy, sometimes has weird hours, would take me far away from home.”

“I can't believe this. Everything has been a lie,” she moaned, closing her eyes and thinking back over the years. Two years ago, for his birthday, she'd gone all out and bought him a really expensive, nice tool belt.

I wonder if he uses it to carry coke around Beverly Hills.

“I had to, Jo. I don't know what happened, but … okay, look. When I was twenty, I was working at my step-dad's garage, remember? And I basically hated life. Your brother was in college and hardly ever had time for me. All our friends had gone off to school. Home was shit, and you were way out in Van Nuys, and we weren't really that close back then. I felt like I was gonna be doing that forever, working some shit job I didn't even like, and going home to my mom and a step-dad I couldn't fucking stand.

“Then one day I'm working on this Chevy, and it's right before closing, and this guy walks in. Asks if I can work on his Aston Martin, which c'mon – who in that area has an Aston Martin, and even if they did, why would they come to some shit hole garage for it? So I climb out from under the Chevy and this guy … he looks really familiar. We're talking about cars and I'm telling him we're not the right garage for his Aston, and I can't shake this feeling that I must know this guy.”

“What a touching story of a father-son reunion. Did he ask you to sell coke right then, or later?” Jo snapped in a snide voice, finally opening her eyes again. He didn't look mad, though. He looked … hurt.

“Later. It was amazing, Jo. Here I am, struggling to make a dime, and you know what my home life was like. And in walks my real dad, like a rich as fuck fairy godmother, offering to change everything. I never asked how he made his money, I was just excited to be around him. Then I found out I have a half-brother, and that just made everything even more awesome. I went and stayed with them for Easter, for like two weeks. It was incredible. A mansion near the beach, half naked women everywhere, more money than I'd ever seen in my life.”

“Is this supposed to endear me to you?”

“And then one night, my brother decided to take me for a little drive. Said he had to deliver a package downtown. I was so stupid, I really thought that's all we were doing – at fucking one o'clock in the morning. We go to this club, these big bouncers lead us into the back, and I shit you not, something like three Grammy winners from that year were hanging out in a VIP room. I was so star struck, I didn't even realize Malcolm was spreading out a shit ton of coke on a table until people started cutting it up,” he said. Jo stared at him for a second.

“So while we've been slumming it out in Van Nuys,” she spoke in a careful voice. “You've been going back and forth between there and Malibu, selling drugs to celebrities?”

“Yeah. Look, Jo, just think about it. Suddenly, there's this man in front of me, offering me attention and hugs and love and respect, and hey, all I have to do is sell some drugs to rich people? Rich people who, by the way, are already doing drugs anyway. I couldn't sign up fast enough. The deal was I would start out in the 'burbs, out there in Burbank and those neighborhoods, learn the ropes and prove my worth. Then after the summer, I'd be moved out to Malibu, to work directly underneath him.”

“But after that summer, you moved to Van Nuys,” she was confused.

“Because I came out to visit you that summer, and … shit, Jo, you were just the best time. I'd always had a small crush on you, and then with your brother out of the picture, it was just the two of us. I thought I'd end the summer with a bang, partying it up with you. Maybe get laid.”

She hit him in the chest.

“Dick bag.”

“Hey, I'm a guy, you have an amazing rack. But the more we hung out, the more fun we had, the more I didn't want to leave. I wanted … I wanted to be with you. A little crush turned into a big fucking deal. But like I said, you're a good girl. Strip clubs and body shots and crazy parties aside, you really are, Jo. You're probably the best person I know. Every time I thought about telling you what I was doing, about my dad and his 'business', I got scared that you'd stop being my friend. It was already hard enough not being closer to you. I couldn't handle losing you all together.”

Suddenly, Jo's schoolgirl crush on Archer seemed small in comparison to whatever he must have felt for her. She was a little blown away. He'd hidden so much from her. It was kind of sweet, but also a little alarming.

“So basically, you've been selling coke since you were twenty,” she said. He nodded.

“Yeah. Pretty much.”

“But you're always broke.”

“Umm ...”

“Okay, so you pretend to be broke so no one will figure out you're selling coke.”

“Pretty much.”

“And you've had a serious thing for me since you were twenty.”

“Pretty much.”

“But you couldn't tell me because you thought I wouldn't be understanding of the fact that you're a drug dealer.”

“At first, yeah. Then the longer I did it, the more I realized how dangerous it can be – there's rival gangs, dirty cops, and a lot of people don't want to pay. It can get ugly. I had a coked out sitcom star put a gun to my head once. I didn't want you to be anywhere near any of that,” he told her.

“A gun to your head? What did you do?” she asked.

“He got distracted and I beat the shit out of him with his own gun.”

Her heart started to race. This was all so foreign to her. Archer was the goofy, sweet guy from down the hall. From her youth. He went with her whenever she visited her grandmother, always made the old woman laugh and blush. It was hard to imagine him pedaling coke and carrying guns and beating people. For the first time ever, Jo was afraid of Archer, and it broke her heart a little.

It also made her sharper. Made her think about things more clearly.

“Archer,” she breathed, licking her lips and glancing around the room. “There's something I still don't understand.”

“I'm sure there's lots. I know I lied to you, Jojo, but only so I could be with you. I never lied about how I felt, and I never lied about -”

“How did Bernard Krakow end up in my trunk?” she blurted out.

Archer went completely still, and Jo's heart sank.

No no no. I can forgive a lot of things, but I don't know if I can forgive this …

“He was following you, Jo. He was going to hurt you.”

“That's not an answer.”

“He got shot and he -”

“Stop lying to me!” she suddenly screamed, covering her face with her hands.

“Calm down,” he said in a soft voice, and she felt his hands on her wrists. She hadn't realized it, but she was starting to hyperventilate.

“How the fuck did he end up in my trunk, Archer?” she demanded as he pulled her hands away from her face.

“Malcolm has always hated me, he -”

She tried to yank free from his grasp.

“Malcolm hired Krakow to follow me,” she growled, stumbling around and bumping into the shelf as she tried to break his hold. “You said that. So what the fuck does Malcolm have to do with Krakow getting shot? Are you trying to say Mal killed him? Why would he shoot the guy he'd hired to kidnap your girlfriend?”

There was a long silence. She rammed into the shelf again, sending a couple books flying to the ground. Then she stepped the other way, knocking over the ficus. The whole time, Archer stared down at her.

“I can't stand the thought of you being scared of me,” he whispered, reading her mind. Her fear must have been written all over her face.

“Well, it's a little too late for that! How the fuck did a dead body get in my car, Archer!?” she yelled.

“He was going to hurt you,” he sighed. “I can't … the thought of someone hurting you, Jo. Remember when that guy on New Year's shoved you?”

She did – some drunk idiot had almost knocked her down. Archer, who had been even drunker, had turned and shoved the dude hard enough to send him to the ground. The whole place had erupted after that, and they'd barely escaped without getting arrested.

“Yes.”

“Well, this was like that, only actually dangerous, and I was mostly sober. I followed him as he practically carried you outside, then I made up some story to get the bouncer inside. Then I confronted Krakow. He dropped you and tried to pull a gun. I don't know how to explain it. I just instantly saw red. You were laying on the ground, not moving, and I'm thinking this guy is gonna shoot you. I tackled him, he hit me, I hit him back. Then we rolled around, fighting for the gun. I got it and he lunged and … I shot him. Jesus, Jo, I shot him. Three fucking times, right in the chest.”

She was going to be sick. She was going to vomit all over Santana Rodriguez's expensive Persian carpet and antique wood floors. She wasn't sure what part of Archer's story was more upsetting – the fact that she'd almost been date raped and kidnapped, or that he'd almost been shot, or that he'd actually shot somebody.

“How ...” she ran out of air and had to clear her throat. “How did nobody see you?”

“It was after one in the morning at a shitty club in a shitty neighborhood, and we were between a huge truck and your car. I shot him and he went down. Happens all the time.”

“Not to me, it doesn't.”

“It does to coke dealers.”

“Oh my god,” she breathed, and went back to yanking at his grasp. “How many people have you killed!?”

“Christ, Jo, no one! I'm not some murderer!” he shouted at her.

“Except you are, Archer! You murdered some guy, then you hid him in my trunk, then you let me believe you didn't know anything about it! For two days! You even let me believe there was a chance I might have killed him! What the fuck is wrong with you!?”

She surprised him by changing tactics and shoving him in the chest. He stumbled backwards, and she used the distraction to break free. She ran for the door, but he caught her before she could make it and lifted her off the ground.

“You knew who he was!” she yelled. “You knew who he was and you knew how he died – how was this weekend supposed to go, Archer!?”

“I thought we either wouldn't figure anything out and I would convince you to dump your car, or I could distract you while I did some of my own investigating. I knew it couldn't have been random, that specific guy sniffing around you – he had to have known me, had to have been sent by someone. I knew running around and asking about him, I'd figure it all out. Hopefully before you would.”

“It never occurred to you that all your secrets would come out?”

“Honestly … I don't know, maybe I was kind of hoping they would? I don't like lying to you.”

“You could've fooled me.”

“I may have done it for years, but I never once enjoyed it.”

“Archer Calhoun, a drug dealer with a goddamn heart of gold.”

“Thank you, Jo. Your confidence has always been, and continues to be, truly inspiring.”

His grip had loosened a little, so Jo swung her leg back as hard as she could. Her foot made painful contact with his shin and he grunted, dropping her. She took one step forward, but then felt his hand gripping the back of her jacket. He yanked hard and she swung around in a circle, ramming into the desk with a grunt. She hesitated only a second before scrambling over the piece of furniture. She'd hit it so hard, she'd knocked a couple drawers open, and one clipped her left foot, causing her to fall to the floor.

“Are you gonna shoot me, too!?” she shouted while glaring at the drawer. Then she saw what was inside it.

“What? Don't be stupid, Jo, I -”

She grabbed a pistol out of the drawer and leapt to her feet, pointing it straight out in front of her.

“Stop. Talking,” she was gasping for air.

“Ooookay,” Archer spoke slowly as he raised his hands so they were up by his head.

“I am going to leave now,” she informed him, moving so she was kneeling on the desk. She'd assumed that as the gun got closer to him, he'd back up, but he didn't budge an inch. He just shook his head and stood his ground.

“It's too dangerous, I can't let you -”

“This thing is loaded, Archer, and I know how to use a gun,” she warned him. One of his eyebrows quirked up.

“You're just full of surprises, Jojo.”

“Not as much as you.”

“Look,” he sighed. “I know this has been a long weekend, and you just learned a lot of really fucked up shit. But I think if you'd just calm down, we could talk -”

She cocked the hammer.

“Did you seriously just tell me to calm down?” she snapped. “An angry woman with a loaded gun pointed at your chest, and your reaction is to say 'calm down'? You are the stupidest man I have ever met.”

“You know, you're not the first person to say that to me.”

“Keep dicking around, and I'll be the last.”

“You can't shoot me, Jojo.”

“Don't call me that!” she yelled. “What the fuck is wrong with you? You're a fucking sociopath! You lied to me! This whole time! Who the fuck are you?”

“Stop saying that,” he yelled back. “I'm the same guy! I lived down the street from you, we practically grew up together.”

“That guy never would have lied to me. That guy is long gone. Now you're just some piece of shit drug dealer!”

“I didn't lie about everything, I promise. I had to … I just couldn't tell you certain things. Believe me, I wanted to. All the time. So many times,” he told her.

“Oh, really? What stopped you? Wait, let me guess, you got distracted while buying impulse cocaine,” she said snidely.

“Impulse may have been an exaggeration,” he chuckled.

“You think? So what's the plan here, Archer? Am I going to wind up in my trunk by the end of the day?” she demanded. He actually laughed out loud.

“Do you really think I could ever hurt you? I just discovered you can put your ankles behind your head – I was thinking about proposing to you.”

“My answer would be no, just to warn you.”

“Aw, c'mon, Jojo, you love me.”

That hit too close to him. She clenched her teeth together

“Just shut up! Shut the fuck up. I'm going to call the police, and then you can be a smart ass with them. See how well they like it,” she threatened, knee walking closer to the edge of the desk, ready to jump down and run past him.

“Fine. Go call the cops, because frankly, you're starting to scare me,” he told her.

“Good!” she shouted, jerking the gun at him, trying to get him to move. “You should be scared!”

“I'm scared you'll hurt yourself,” he clarified.

“Oh, fuck you, Archer. Fuck you and your stupid smiles and your big lies and every single moment we ever spent together. I hope you -”

Her tirade was cut off as she let out a shout. Faster than her eyes could follow, he lunged forward and grabbed her behind her knees. Next thing she knew, her legs were yanked out from under her and she was falling backwards off the desk. The gun went flying out of her hand, hitting the floor with a thunk.

Jo didn't lose a beat. She scrambled around, digging her elbows into the rug as she moved. Archer was already on top of the desk, leaping towards her. She screamed, rolled onto her front, then jumped to her feet.

Gun. Get the gun. You don't want to end up in a trunk, Jojo!

“STOP!”

He roared so loud, so close behind her, it actually worked. Jo shrieked and came to a stop, wrapping her arms around her head and ducking down. She wasn't even sure what she was doing, she just knew she was terrified and didn't want to get hurt. She held still as he grabbed her arm and yanked her around so she was facing him.

“Please,” she whimpered, and she realized she'd started crying. “Please, I won't tell the police. I won't say anything.”

“Jo,” he groaned, pulling her out of her crouch and wrapping his arms around her. “I'm not going to hurt you. I could never hurt you. I lied to you so you wouldn't get hurt.”

“Too late,” she whispered, her face pressed against his chest.

“This is killing me,” he whispered back.

Bad choice of words.

“Then let me go,” she urged. “You have my car, you have the body. You know who your double cross is. I'm in more danger here than I ever was at home. Than I ever was before you moved down the hall.”

“Don't say that,” he groaned.

There was a long silence. Jo wasn't sure what to do – she was in some drug lord's mansion in Malibu, and apparently her best friend-slash-the guy she was probably in love with was also a drug dealer. Oh, and he'd also murdered someone and put the body in her trunk. No big deal.

She let out a growl and rammed her knee into his crotch, as hard as she could. He let go of her and made a choking noise as he dropped to the ground.

Jo didn't waste a second. She turned and bolted from the room. It was too much, how was she supposed to deal with all this? She just needed a moment. She'd spent all weekend with Archer, thinking all the wrong thoughts, believing all the wrong truths. She just needed a goddamn moment to herself.

The house was absolutely huge. She couldn't remember how they'd gotten to Santana's office, but she knew she didn't have time to stop and think about it. She spent half a second looking around, then she ran down the hall. Went down the first set of stairs she came across, kept going for about three flights, then came out in a huge kitchen. She immediately ran towards a set out of glass doors and found herself outside, right at the edge of a large pool.

Figuring that running would only draw more attention, Jo managed to slow it down to a fast walk as she hurried across a cement deck. Once she got around the corner of the house, she went back to running, streaking along the side of the house and heading for the front.

She was on the lawn and almost halfway to the gate when her cellphone went off. She let out a yelp, startled as it vibrated, then she pulled it out of her back pocket and looked at the screen. Archer. She ended the call, then frowned as she looked at her screen. A lot of missed calls from both her parents, her roommate, a couple from her brother, and even one from Archer's mother. There were also several unknown numbers that she had to assume were from her building's management, the police, and possibly the FBI at this point. Her frown turned into a glare and when Archer called her again, she answered.

“Just leave me alone, okay? I just need to be alone for a minute,” she snapped, stomping across the grass towards a guard station.

“Where are you?” he demanded. She rolled her eyes.

“I'm still in your drug compound, don't worry.”

“It's not a drug … Jo, please. If you want to hate me, fine, we can work on that later. But for now, we need to stick together, okay?”

“Not okay! I wouldn't be in this situation if it wasn't for you! Sticking with you has done nothing but ruin my entire fucking life!” she hissed, skirting around some huge potted plants that towered over her.

“Don't say that, Jojo. You're mad right now, but you know you love me.”

Not the words she wanted to here right then.

“Get fucked, Archie.”

“Don't ever call me that. Look, I'll leave you alone, I promise. Just come back to the house. We don't have to be together, but I just have to know where you are. I have to know you're okay,” he stressed. She grumbled and walked around the small building. It was stationed maybe fifty feet from main gate, and she figured someone could get said gate open for her.

“Well, I'm okay, and I'm at the front of the driveway,” she sighed, peeking through the windows. She frowned when she saw the station was empty. What was the point of a guard station if there weren't any guards? Maybe they only worked at night. But how was she supposed to get the gate open?

“Don't leave!” Archer practically yelled. “Krakow's dead, but if Malcolm is really in on this, we're both still in trouble. It's safest inside the house.”

Fear trickled down Jo's spine as she slowly moved through the open doorway. She swallowed thickly as she looked around. There were several monitors, all displaying the footage from multiple cameras around the property. Except for one – its screen was just full of static and snow. Everything looked fairly normal, she supposed, except for an over turned chair, a broken window on the far side of the small room, and a liquid that had been splashed across the monitors.

“Archer,” she breathed, taking a couple steps forward.

“What?”

“I think you were right,” she whispered, leaning down close to the screens. It had looked brown from the doorway, but upon closer inspection, the liquid was definitely red. Blood red.

“Right? What's happening? Why are you whispering?”

Jo dropped into a crouch, ducking beneath the windows. She inched back towards the door and pressed herself up against the wall next to it. She glanced outside, not even sure what she was looking for – maybe a windowless van? Gun men in fancy suits?

You've seen too many movies.

“Something's happened,” she said, gripping the door frame as she looked around it. She didn't want someone to sneak into the room behind her and catch her unaware.

“I'm coming,” Archer's voice sounded slightly breathless, and even through the phone she could hear the sound of his feet pounding down a set of stairs. “What happened?”

“I came to the guard station,” she kept whispering, her eyes never leaving the driveway. “I thought they could open the gate for me, but no one is here. One of the cameras isn't working, and there's blood in here.”

“Goddammit, Jo, this is why we should've stuck together!”

“I'm sorry I got scared of being in a room with a murderer!” she hissed through clenched teeth.

“I'm not a murderer!”

“Oh, well then, what do you call a person who's killed another person?”

“Shut up. Are you hiding?”

“I'm in the station,” she breathed, daring to lean out the door a little to look the other way down the drive. “I'm hiding under the windows, looking out the door.”

“Okay, just stay there. I'm coming to get you.”

“Fuck,” she groaned. “Now I'm stuck here. I've gone from my shitty apartment, to a drug dealer's penthouse, to a drug lord's mansion, and I'm probably gonna fucking die here.”

“Stop being dramatic. And this time, when I save you, don't kick me.”

“I make no promises. Hurry up.”

“Can you see any one?”

“No, no one. It's totally -”

Jo screamed as her head was yanked back. Her hair was still up in its bun and someone had their hand wrapped around it, using it as a knob to control her head. She was dragged away from the open doorway, then jerked up into a standing position. She gripped her phone in one hand and swung her other arm wildly, hoping to hit her assailant. She was twisted around and she saw that behind her had been another door, partially hidden behind a file cabinet.

“What's happening!? Jo, talk to me! What's going on!?”

Archer's voice was tinny and far away as he shouted through the phone line. She screamed again as she was pulled towards the secret door, and at first all she could think was that she was dead. That she was being dragged away to her death. Then Archer's voice got louder over the phone and a memory flashed through her mind. One of her favorite movies, some ridiculous, over the top, incredibly violent film that featured Liam Neeson kicking ass all over Paris.

Do something. If you're being taken, then make sure Archer can find you!

“He's got me! Someone's got me!” she yelled, hooking her leg inside the door frame before she could be pulled clear of it. With her free hand, she reached back and started clawing at the fingers in her hair. She twisted around and though it meant she lost her hold on the doorway, it also meant she was able to see who was grabbing her.

“Who!? Hold on!” Archer shouted over the phone, and she thought maybe she could also hear him in the distance.

Put up a fight. Hold out. Just long enough for Archer to get here and turn this asshole inside out.

“It's Mal!” she shouted, then she screamed as Malcolm Rodriguez backhanded her. She fell to the side, ramming into the side of the guard station and dropping her phone. Mal grabbed her by the hair again and she started yelling. “It's Malcolm! He killed the guards! He's trying to take me!”

“MALCOLM!”

Archer was definitely outside, and as Mal's arm wrapped around Jo's neck, he turned just in time for her to see Archer running around the side of the main house.

“You know,” Mal sounded out of breath. Jo struggled at first to get free, and then in panic as he cut off her air supply. “I really didn't think I would enjoy kidnapping a defenseless girl. But seeing the look on Archer's face, it's actually totally worth it.”

Her vision was going black around the edges. She was pulling at his wrists with one hand, and with her other arm, she was reaching out. As if she could grab hold of Archer while he was still a couple hundred feet away. She kept telling herself it would only take a minute for him to reach her. Just a minute, and he would save the day. Sixty seconds, and he would make up for all the other bad shit he'd done.

But it turned out she didn't have sixty seconds. She barely had ten seconds before everything went completely black and she fell unconscious.