Page 22 of Pretty Lies & Ugly Truths

“Archer, while I appreciate everything you’re trying to do for me—I truly do—I don’t have the money for all that. And…I can’t just stay here. I have a job, friends, I have to feed Mr. Darcy, and what about Jane?” I say, now starting to pace. “She has multiple sclerosis. What if she has a relapse, and I’m—I’m…wherever the hell I am and I can’t get to her?”

I come to a stop, a terrible thought just occurring to me, “If someone is after me, do you think they would go after her too? Use her as a way to get to me?” If something happens to her because of me, I’ll never be able to forgive myself.

“Maggie—” he says, stopping me mid-spiral, “slow down. Let’s take it one thing at a time. Okay?

“First of all, I would never expect you to pay for a security system that I was having installed. That would be absurd. It’s something youmusthave if you’re planning on going back to that apartment, and I have the money, so don’t worry about it.”

I open my mouth argue, but it’s like he already knows what I’m about to say, because he keeps going. “However, if it makes you feel any better, I get a huge discount since we’re practically family, and if you insist on paying me back, we can work out arrangements later. Deal?”

All that sounds reasonable. I don’t like the idea of him paying for my security and I will be paying him back, but like he said, I definitely need it. I wouldn’t feel safe going back there if I don’t have some kind of alarm. So, I nod.

“Good. Second, If you have to work, I will gladly take you back and forth, or let you drive my car if you would feel more comfortable, but Iwillbe coming with you. I don’t want you going anywhere alone, and I can get a security detail to keep an eye on Jane.”

“But—” I start, but he interrupts me.

“Don’t worry—they are very discreet at what they do, and I will make sure she never knows they’re there. Okay?”

It sounds like he has thought of just about everything, and damn if that isn’t a relief. It feels good to have someone else take charge for a change. So good, in fact, that I can feel my eyes burn as I fight back tears. I am always the one having to deal with all the hard stuff. To have someone else take the control is…freeing in a way, to know I don’t have to do it all alone.

“Okay,” I breathe on a sigh.

“Good,” he says as his expression hardens. Any trace of softness now disappearing behind an angry scowl. “Now…the most important question is: who thefuckis Mr. Darcy?”

My head rears back in surprise.That’sthe most important question? The harsh tone of his voice makes him sound almost jealous, but that can’t be right.

I don’t know if I am finally having that mental breakdown I’ve been on the verge of for the past few weeks, or if it’s his adorable little pout, but suddenly, I cannot hold back the insane laughter that bursts free.

Once I start, I’m unable stop, not even when my stomach aches and cramps and there are tears streaming down my cheeks.

Through it all, Archer stands there with a confused expression on his grumpy face, and that only causes me to laugh even harder.

9

Archer

After Maggie finally got a hold of herself long enough to explain Mr. Darcy was not, in fact, an actual man, but a stray cat, I was able to leash the raging jealousy that came out of nowhere.

I have no claim to her and I never will. I can’t. So, I push those unwelcome emotions out of my head.

Maggie’s now upstairs taking a nap and I’m in my office going back over the files Beckham sent over. After a thorough read through, I realize there is barely anything here: just adoption records, school transcripts, and some medical records. Nothing I couldn’t have found on my own.

That isn’t like Beckham. He is usually very thorough.

Sure there has been some kind of an error, I dial him up.

“Hello,” he answers on the first ring.

“Hey. I was looking through the files you sent me on Maggie, and there isn’t much here. Is this really all youcould find? There’s no birth record, nothing on her biological parents… Am I missing something?” I ask, sure that he must have accidentally left something out.

“No, you’re not missing anything. That’s all I’ve been able to find so far—and trust me, I’m trying. But honestly, man…there’s not much to go on. Other than the adoption records, there are no hospital records that match that name and date of birth, no father listed on the birth certificate, and her mom is a fucking ghost.”

“Hmm…Maggie said she only met the woman a few times. Thought she might be an addict. Do you think she lives on the streets? That would explain a lack of address or employment records?—”

“No, no, no—you don’t understand,” he says cutting me off. “I mean aghost. As in, she doesn’t even fucking exist.”

Dread coils in the pit of my stomach as the weight of his words sink in.

“What do you mean?” I ask, although I’m pretty sure I already know the answer.

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