Page 80 of Shots Fired

“I’ve got everything handled.”

He shakes his head. “See, there’s that bullshitting face again.”

“What’s going on with Darcy?” Jack joins us, breaking the staredown between me and my captain.

He looks between us. “Jenna just messaged Kendra to say she’s taking her home.”

I pocket my phone, and Sawyer looks at Jack, jutting his chin at the restrooms.

“We were just speculating on that ourselves.” He looks back at me, more concern than anger in his gaze. “Although whatever it is, I haven’t had a drink tonight, so I can give her a ride home.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

DARCY

Pregnancy is not fun. Sure, it’s a blessing in so many ways, but right now, as I lie here, trying to sleep past the banging in my temples and sporadic plummets in blood pressure—which are apparently normal as my body adapts to growing a baby—I’m thinking I’ve had better mornings.

Squeezing my eyes shut, I will myself to grab a few more hours of sleep. It’s not even light outside, and I don’t have work, making today the perfect opportunity to recharge my batteries.

Only the harder I try to rest, the more elusive sleep becomes. The only time I pass out and sleep well is in a certain boy’s bed—that fact isn’t lost on me. And neither are his words from last night.

“Your brain is built to break codes and mysteries. Mine is designed to care for you and our child.”

Warmth floods my belly, and I dip a hand underneath my silk top—another set Archer bought me—palming my stomach.

“It’s all going to be okay, Pipsqueak,” I whisper into my darkened room, smiling at the nickname Archer gave to them. “He’s going to stand by us.”

It’s the first time I’ve spoken to my baby, and despite feeling like utter crap, I guess it’s the first time I’ve really felt a connection to my new reality—I’m pregnant, and in a little over thirty-four weeks, I’ll be a mum.

I crack my eyes open, peering around my bedroom. In the faint lighting coming in from the street, I see my disorganized dresser, makeup bottles and products strewn across the top in a haphazard fashion. My shoes and coats are scattered around the room, some jackets hanging from my closet door, others piled on top of a single chair in the corner.

I need to get my shit together. Literally. I also need to work out what the hell I’m going to do about my living arrangements. A one-bedroom apartment isn’t going to cut it.

Overwhelmed at all the challenges I have to face, I roll onto my back and exhale a long breath into the room. “It’s going to be okay, Darcy. All of it.”

“Do you frequently make a habit of talking to yourself?”

A voice rips my soul clean from my body, and I almost tumble out of bed.

“Whoa! What the fuck?!” I panic, reaching out to my side table and flicking on a lamp.

“Relax, Babe. It’s just me, Jenna.” She chuckles, sitting up in bed, wearing one of my silky hair caps and an eye mask.

She pulls the mask off and looks at me, grinning. “Seriously, before you started rambling on, I was sound asleep. These masks are a game changer.”

I giggle and point to the cap she’s wearing. “You think the masks are good? Wait until you style your hair later.” I offer a chef’s kiss. “No crunchy ends or dry hair. Only smooth, salon-worthy locks.”

She snorts a laugh. “Shame my new look will be wasted in a messy bun at practice later today.”

I stretch, lifting my arms above my head. “Yeah, that sucks.” I pause and look across at my friend as she takes a sip of water. “You stayed overnight.”

She nods once, replacing her glass on the side table. “I did. After Sawyer dropped us back, I wasn’t comfortable leaving you.” Jenna turns to look at me, only intrigue and kindness in her eyes. “I’m not quite sure how best to put this, but can I ask you something?”

Holding her gaze, I have a pretty good idea what’s coming. Especially if she heard me talking to my stomach. “Sure.”

Bringing her bottom lip between her teeth, she chews on it softly. “Darcy … are you …”

“Yes,” I quickly answer, “I am.”

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