Return Fire (Sam Archer ) Read Free

haired, blue eyed and in the best physical condition of his life, Sam Archer looked like an oil painting which an artist had completed then for some reason decided to damage. All the scars, cuts and broken bones his body had experienced were like rips and tears to the canvas. He’d been stabbed, punched, kicked, choked and shot at more times than he could remember and he’d thought he was going to die on several occasions, his number finally up.
    However, he was still here, and the people who’d inflicted the damage weren’t.
    And that wasn’t a coincidence either.
    Examining the fresh scar on his stomach, he remembered that day, those brutal few hours he’d been trapped in a Harlem apartment block; it had been one of the worst nights of his life but in another way, also one of the best. He’d almost died, and by all reasoning should have done given what had happened inside that building.
    But he’d also met Alice Vargas.
    Feeling the cold bottle of water start to numb his fingers, he placed it down as his eyes moved to the empty seat beside his where she would normally sit. Vargas was Archer’s age, twenty eight, and apart from her dark looks and upbringing in LA, the two shared many similarities. She and Archer had fallen for each other hard soon after they’d first met that night in Harlem and once the situation in the building had finally been resolved, they’d spent more and more time together, particularly as they started working on the same team in the NYPD. Before long, what had been lying just under the surface between them had quickly caught fire. In the previous twelve months, Archer had struggled with the solitude that had started to define his life as a cop, but Vargas had completely changed that.
    Three weeks ago, they’d taken a big step. Vargas had moved into his apartment here in Queens with her adopted daughter, leaving their previous place in Park Slope.
    Sitting there alone, Archer’s smile faded.
    That was when the problems had started.
     
    Vargas was the girl’s adoptive mother, and before her guardianship the kid had been through some traumatic experiences in her short life, seeing things that most adults would never have to witness.
    However, living with Archer seemed to be triggering issues for her, almost as if his constant presence somehow brought some of those dark memories flooding back. Since she moved in at the beginning of the month the girl had started having terrible nightmares, often accompanied by fits due to her epilepsy, resulting in Archer and Vargas having their sleep constantly interrupted by blood-curdling screams that echoed around the building. The neighbours had started to complain too, with good reason, and then Archer and Vargas had both started suffering bad dreams as well, almost as if the three of them being in close proximity triggered some kind of chain reaction.
    As the nightmares continued and the hours of sleep decreased, the tension in the apartment had started to build, and things had finally bo iled over a week ago just as Vargas was leaving for a week-long trip to Spain; what had started out as a disagreement about something completely trivial had grown into a full-on shouting match, neither of them backing down, the argument fuelled by tiredness and frustration. Both of them had been fired up, letting it all out, and what they’d built over the past few months seemed to disintegrate in moments right before their eyes.
    The moment Vargas had left, slamming the door, Archer had immediately started to regret what he’d said, but the damage had already been done. He’d thought about calling her, but figured she’d contact him when she was ready to talk. He hadn’t heard a peep from her since, which told him she was still pissed.
    Feeling the weight of his cell phone in the pocket of the shirt dragging the left side of the garment down, he took out the Nokia with his right hand and switched it on. Once it powered up, he saw he had several missed calls