Page 91 of Hunt Me

His dad. Okay. I was right about that.

Archie’s gaze flickers away from mine, and while it could be the fact that he struggles with eye contact, there’s something else in his expression. Not quite guilt. It’s almost like shame.

‘We can’t find the man who tried to hurt you,’ he finally says. ‘I’m sorry, little rabbit.’

Closing my eyes for a second, I shake my head. It’s not his fault or his responsibility. My hands creep to his chest, pressing over his pecs, and I feel his heartbeat for a moment before pulling back.

‘Thank you for trying.’

His jaw is tense as he nods.

I swallow heavily. ‘Is the other man your dad’s…partner?’ There’s hope in my hands, only because I don’t want to know who this person is to Archie.

He blinks at me, horror crossing his face, and then he goes pink in the cheeks. ‘No. That’s Nico.’

I frown. It’s obvious that name’s supposed to mean something, but it’s a vicious reminder that Archie and I still don’t know half of each other’s lives.

‘Who?’

Archie sighs, his exhale ghosting across my cheeks. ‘Sorry. I forgot you haven’t met. He’s my best friend. Brother,’ he signs after a second. ‘Not related, but important. Family.’

I get what he’s trying to say, and I nod. Fuck. I’m so embarrassed, and I have no idea what Nico must think of me now.

Before I can attempt to apologize, Archie seizes my hands again, kissing my fingers before dropping them with a sigh. ‘Would you like to meet them or lay down? I can bring you breakfast.’

The second option sounds divine, but I know I need to be a damn grown-up about all of this, so I square my shoulders. ‘Meet.’

He nods again, then carefully steps to the side and keeps one hand at my lower back as he guides me back into the kitchen. It’s only then that I realize both Percy and Milo are there.

Percy looks his usual self—well put together and rested. Milo looks like fresh hell with his hair sticking up all over the place and a fresh scratch across his cheek that looks like it’s only just stopped bleeding.

All eyes are on me again.

Behind me, Archie squeezes my shoulder just once, and I watch out of the side of my vision as he lifts his hands and signs without speaking, ‘This is Denver. He is mine.’

It takes all of five minutes for me to bond with Nico. He signs fluently, naturally, like it’s his first language, and it doesn’t take me long to learn the reason why.

‘CODA,’ Nico tells me with one hand as he lifts his coffee mug to his lips. He takes a long swallow, making it somehowlook elegant, and he smiles over the rim of the mug before setting it down. ‘Mom hard of hearing, dad Deaf.’

It sets something at ease inside my chest, and it’s immediately obvious where this little family learned ASL from. They all sign alike, even if Archie’s dad’s is a little stiffer and unpracticed.

‘Is your family here?’ I ask.

There’s a shift in the room, and Nico’s cheeks go a little ruddy before he swallows heavily and shakes his head. ‘No. This is my family now.’

He stops there. It must be bad if he’s not oversharing, so I quickly let the subject drop. Instead, my gaze wanders over to Archie’s dad, who has been introduced as Jasper—a name that both does and doesn’t fit him.

The name Jasper makes me think of some stuffy English professor from the Cotswolds. This man is anything but. He has two very prominent scars, one near his left eye, the other on the right side of his neck, making it look like someone tried to slit his throat.

And from what I know of this family, that is a possibility.

But he’s also very kind and gentle. I can tell there’s tension between him and Archie, but he touches his sons with tenderness—little squeezes on their shoulders, pats on the back, ruffled hair. And the guys all lean into it like touch-starved cats.

Well, everyone but Archie, but I know now that he doesn’t like that kind of affection, and I wonder if maybe that’s part of the tension. Maybe Jasper doesn’t get him.

After Percy makes sure everyone is fed, Jasper takes a seat across from me. The moment his ass hits the chair, Archie leans in close to me, laying a hand on my thigh as though I need some kind of comfort or protection.

I have no idea what’s coming.