Page 102 of One Secret

Pressing my palms against my temples, gun still in hand, I resist the urge to scream.

'Cyrus?' Darcy's voice is suddenly full of concern.

I squeeze my eyes shut against a building migraine. I grit my teeth.

Surely, at some point, I have to trust someone?

"We should work together more. Let each other in. We should be more honest."

"I may be bad at it..."

I blink and stare around the room in surprise, as it hits me:

'Wait...' I zero in on Darcy who's looking at me like I just grew a second head. 'You said you'd be bad at being honest...'

'What?' she blinks.

'Was this it?' I urge.

'Was what it?'

'The...'—Dear God, I can't even say the word—'the pregnancy. Was you being pregnant the secret you were keeping? The only secret?'

'Yes! Well, I mean, we don't know everything about each—'

'But that's what Lana Caruso said she'd keep from me?'

'Yes! She worked it out. Look, Cyrus, I'm not your enemy. I'm not a spy!'

I swallow hard. My heart is racing a mile a minute. Hope is a foreign and powerful force in the center of my chest.

'I want to trust that,' I admit.

'Then do!' Darcy begs, leaning forward in her chair, fighting against the restraints again. 'Cyrus, trust is a choice.'

'So is honesty,' I remind her as my doubts renew their efforts and dig their claws in deeper.

Darcy winces, her eyes desperate.

'I didn't think you'd want to know,' she whispers.

'You what?'

How could she—?

A car passes around the forecourt outside, its headlights throwing a slice of blazing white over the clock on the bedside table.

It's been twelve minutes since we left Ramirez in the foyer.

Shit.

'I have to go.' I head for the duffel bag I left stuffed behind the headboard of the bed.

Darcy snorts through her nose.

'Oh please, you're not seriously going to that meet with Caruso, are you?'

The amused light dies in Darcy's eyes, swiftly replaced by what looks a whole lot like worry.

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