The First Rule by Nicole S. Goodin

15

Darcy

“I’m sonervous I could puke.”

“I’d really prefer if you didn’t.” His big, warm hand settles at the base of my spine and calms me down a little, but not nearly enough as he guides me through the doors of R&R’s. “Seems like you’ve only just stopped the puking.”

He’s right, I’m on a month-long, no-vomit streak and I’d really hate to ruin it now.

Ryan and I have eaten here plenty of times over the past month or two, most of the staff know me by name now, but the one person I’m yet to encounter is Rebel. She’s Ryan’s best friend and not only have I never met her, but she hates me – I’m sure of it.

What I’m not sure of, is why.

Ryan has been assuring me all day that I’m wrong and Rebel is just a ‘what you see is what you get’ kind of woman. He’s lying through the skin of his teeth, but I think it’s kind of sweet that he’s trying.

He wants the two most important women in his life – his words – to get to know each other, and after everything he’s done to support me, this is the least I can do. It’s the only thing he’s ever asked of me. Doesn’t mean I’m not scared shitless.

“You’re fine, princess, it’s just dinner. You had to meet her sometime. She doesn’t bite.”

I’m not entirely sure that’s true, I’m almost one hundred percent confident that she bared her teeth at me the night I came here to tell Ryan about the baby, but I don’t say that out loud. This woman is his best friend, and his business partner. I need her to like me if I’m going to have a shot at staying in Ryan’s life, and after the past couple of months, I can’t possibly imagine not staying in his life. I’ve fallen hard for this rough-around-the-edges, sweet, kind man, and I don’t plan on giving him up for anything or anyone.

I nod as I follow his line of sight and find Rebel sitting in a booth down the back. She waves us over, and I relax a little bit. She’s not shooting me a death glare. Yet.

“What did Steph tell you on the phone just before?” he murmurs into my ear as we cross the room.

He’s trying to distract me, and even though I know exactly what he’s doing, I still appreciate it.

“To put on my big-girl pants and stop being such a whiny little bitch,” I reply, my mouth twitching with a grin as I recall her losing her cool with me.

He chuckles – the throaty sound doing funny things to my stomach.

My hand lands there instinctively, coming to rest on my baby bump.

His eyes follow the action, as they often do, and I can practically see the love pouring out of him. Doting is my favourite look on him. I can’t wait to see him with the baby when’s it’s born. He’s going to be the best father. If it wasn’t for the fact that I’ve already fallen completely head over heels in love with him, I’m certain seeing him holding our child would have done the trick.

It was inevitable, falling for him. The same way I hope living happily ever after will be.

But first, I have to win over the redhead in front of me.

“You’re late,” she says with a raised brow as Ryan leans in to kiss her cheek, his hand never leaving my back.

“Always a pleasure to see you too, Rebel.” He smirks. “This is Darcy.”

“Hi,” I say, my tone far shyer than I’d have preferred. I had all these grand plans of being confident and sure of myself – they went out the window the minute she locked those deep hazel, assessing eyes on me.

She’s all kinds of intimidating. Tall, curvy, beautiful, with bright red hair and piercing eyes. I bet she has men falling at her feet daily. She’s the kind of stunning you never see in real life. She’s everything I’m not.

“So you’re the famous Darcy. I was wondering if I was ever going to get to officially meet you.”

I giggle nervously. “It’s so good to meet you too.”

Her expression doesn’t change, yet I can’t help but feel like she’s internally screaming at me I never said it was good to meet you.

“I’ve heard so much about you, Ryan talks about you all the time,” I ramble.

Ryan ushers me into the booth, and I couldn’t be more grateful for an excuse to look away from Rebel. I need to get my shit together, and fast before she forms the impression that I’m a complete rambling idiot.

“Cute bump,” Rebel remarks as I tug my dress so it sits comfortably over my expanding stomach.

“Thanks.” I smile brightly before looking to Ryan and then smiling brighter. I still don’t know how he does that. I’ve never been around someone who’s made me this happy or feel this safe. “I feel like a whale.”

Ryan rolls his eyes.

“When’s the due date?” Rebel asks.

“September twentieth,” Ryan answers before I can. “We’re over halfway now.”

“He or she?” She fires off another question.

Ryan stifles a laugh next to me.

I narrow my eyes at his side profile playfully. He’s so smug. We had another scan – the scan where we should have been able to find out if we’re having a boy or a girl, but according to Dr. Davis, our baby was playing coy and refusing to reveal their gender.

“It’s a surprise,” I say before he can say something smart.

Rebel nods her head, glancing back and forth between the two of us curiously as she sips her drink.

Ryan reclines back into the booth, his hand landing lazily on my thigh. I don’t know how he’s so at ease, I still feel like I’m about to puke, or pass out. Or both. Knowing my luck, definitely both.

Jimmy comes over to the table and puts a hold on any more small talk for the moment.

We order drinks and food, and then Ryan and Rebel talk about business for a while. I finally start to relax. This is the kind of conversation I can handle. No intimate questions. Nothing much more than a few nods and smiles are required on my behalf.

My mind drifts off to the baby supply shop I saw last weekend in the group of shops near Ryan’s house. I wasn’t sure how I was going to afford to get everything for the baby all at once, but since Ryan is still refusing to accept any type of rent from me, and seems to have an uncanny knack for locating the cash I’ve stashed in various locations around the house so he can return it – I now have more money than I’m accustomed to having, so I should be able to afford the bulk of what I want.

“We all get it wrong sometimes, but you know all about that, right, Darcy?” Rebel’s voice interrupts my daydream.

“Sorry, what?” I frown, not understanding her tone or accusation. I haven’t exactly been listening, but I can’t fathom what she’s talking about.

“Rebel,” Ryan hisses. “Don’t.” He shoots her a look that would kill any normal person – at least one that was capable of feeling fear – unlucky for me, his best friend seems to have balls made from brass.

“What?” she asks, feigning innocence. “I was just pointing out that we all make mistakes, and that Darcy, of all people, knows how that goes.”

I have no idea how to respond to this. It’s clear as day that Rebel is having a crack at me over something, but I have less than no idea what she’s referring to. I mean, it could be the fact that I’m knocked up to my ex’s twin, but that seems too obvious for such a dig.

I glance back at Ryan, hoping for some clarity, but he’s still glaring at her in a way I’ve never seen from him before. Anger is radiating from him so intensely I swear I can almost see him shaking, and if I wasn’t so nervous and confused, I think I’d find it sexy as hell.

Rebel just looks back at him, totally unfazed, one brow raised in challenge.

I feel sick and I don’t even know why.

Our food arrives at that very moment, and I’m not even sure how I’m meant to eat a single bite. Filling my stomach feels like the opposite of a good idea to me right now.

We eat in awkward silence – I mostly shift food around my plate – and the minute Ryan finishes his meal, he takes my hand in his and asks me gently if I’m ready to leave. His tone is so soft and sweet, I don’t know how he manages it, given that I can sense how angry he still is.

I nod, not caring that my food is barely touched. I can’t wait to get the fuck out of here. I was so worried about this encounter, and somehow, it’s gone even worse than I’d imagined, and I don’t even know why.

He gets up without saying a word to the woman sitting opposite us, and then holds his hand out for me, to help me slip out behind him.

“This was fun, let’s do it again sometime,” Rebel says as he leads me away from the table without so much as a backward glance.

I follow along behind him, bewildered and intimidated.

It’s not until we’ve been driving in the car for about ten minutes that he turns to me and finally speaks again.

“I’m so sorry, princess.” His voice – the agony in it – I just want to make it better.

“It’s okay.”

“It’s not even close to being okay,” he replies quickly. “I promise you, I’ll never let that happen again.”

The silence stretches for a few beats.

“Why does she hate me so much?” I finally say, “she doesn’t even know me, and she already can’t stand me?” My voice wobbles at the end, and I feel tears welling in my eyes. “What was she talking about?”

He pulls over to the side of the road and clasps my face in his hands, forcing me to look at him.

“You’ve done nothing wrong, Darce, okay? I promise you, I’ll fix this.”

“She’s your best friend,” I carry on, almost sobbing now – stupid pregnancy hormones, “I want her to like me.”

“Rebel is as stubborn as a mule, but she’s wrong this time, and if she can’t see that, then she has no place in our lives.”

I can see the complete and utter sincerity in those green eyes of his, I know he would do it – for me... for us... but I also know damn well that cutting off Rebel would kill him, and it’s the last thing I want.

I drag my thumb over his bottom lip, the rough scruff on his jaw grazing my skin. I don’t know what to say, so I don’t say anything. Instead, I kiss him.

* * *

“I need to pee,”Steph states, as she always does, before sliding her chair out and getting up from the table.

I’ve been filling them in on my dinner with Rebel and what a disaster it was. I almost feel bad about saying anything now as both of my best friends have jumped straight on the bandwagon. I’ve unintentionally set up an ‘I hate Rebel club’. That’s not even what I want, or how I feel. I don’t hate her, I fear her. She worries me, I don’t know what happens if her and I can’t find a way to get along. I don’t know how we both fit in Ryan’s life without being in each other’s too.

It’s a mess, one that’s probably not being helped by Steph repeatedly ranting about Rebel sounding like ‘a bitch’ or ‘a pain in the arse’, and getting me all riled up, but still, I knew that’s how she’d be – she’s loyal to a fault and has quite the temper. I once saw her drag a chick out of a bar by her hair for saying something rude about the dress a friend of ours was wearing. Rebel and Steph would probably butt heads something chronic. At least Freya has slightly more chill and the capacity to be more diplomatic.

The ring of my cell phone startles me; I hardly ever get calls anymore. Ryan sometimes rings me on his way home from work, but he’s in a meeting with his staff right now, so I’m confident it won’t be him. I’m here with Steph and Freya, so it’s not either of them…. Work only ever emails… there’s not a lot of other options left; my circle is small.

I pull it from my bag and look at the screen, but it’s a blocked number. I don’t typically pick those up – my tolerance for scammers is pretty low – but it could be the doctor’s office or something to do with my next check-up, so I answer.

“Hello?”

“Darcy,” the voice on the end of the phone says, the tone familiar, but wrong. Somehow wrong.

“Ah... yes?” I reply, confused. It sounds just like Ryan, but I’m not sure. “Who’s this?”

The penny drops a fraction of a second before he says the words. “This is Jacob.”

My heart starts thumping against my rib cage and my palms sweat instantly.

I have no idea why Jacob would be calling me, but I know one thing – it’s not going to be about anything good.

“Jacob?” I reply, my voice barely above a whisper. “Why are you calling me?”

Freya’s hand lands on top of mine and I look up, wide-eyed, to meet her stare.

She doesn’t even have to speak, I can tell by the expression on her face that she’s worried... and pissed off.

“Can’t a man call the woman he loves?”

The sound of the word ‘love’ coming from him makes my stomach roll. Jacob doesn’t love anybody but himself. Probably never has, probably never will.

I don’t know what to reply to him, I’m torn between hanging up and then smashing my phone for good measure… or ripping him to shreds for having the audacity to speak to me like he never crushed me into a million pieces. This is the man who walked out on me at the altar and never even looked back. Never gave me a reason why. Never checked to see if I was coping. He never did a thing. He just carried on with his life as though he didn’t just destroy mine.

How dare he call me now and say something so ridiculous.

I don’t know where I find the strength, or the volume, but I reply, my voice firm and sure. “What the hell do you want, Jacob?”

Steph overhears me say his name as she sits back down, her jaw dropping open when she realises I’m on the phone to the person we’ve been referring to as ‘he who shall not be named’.

“What the fuck?” she mouths to Freya. Freya shrugs, looking more and more furious by the second. Her grip on my free hand tightens. Steph rounds the table to crouch next to me so she can press her ear to the phone and listen in.

“I want you back, Darcy. I made a mistake.”

A whoosh of breath slips through my lips. What the actual fuck? I think I’m in shock.

“Is this prick for real?” Steph demands, having heard what I just heard.

In a different scenario, a different place, a different time... I would have found her outburst hilarious, but I don’t even have the energy to laugh right now. I can’t move. I can’t speak. I can’t even think straight.

Steph prises the phone from my frozen fingers and presses the end button before tossing it down onto the table with a heavy thud. I want to tell her off for being so rough, but I get it. I’d burn that thing if I could afford to replace it – it’s tainted by him now.

“You didn’t block his number?” Steph demands.

I look at her dumbly, unable to speak. My hand flies to my stomach, cradling it protectively. I can’t explain the feeling coursing through me right now as anything other than fear. It makes no sense. Jacob has never laid a finger on me physically. He’s certainly left his fair share of emotional scars, but he’s never been a threat to me.

I don’t know how or why, but he feels like one now.

Freya picks up my discarded phone and scrolls for a moment. “Blocked number,” she explains to Steph when it becomes obvious that I’m in no way fit to contribute to this conversation.

Jacob could have called me from his own number, I haven’t even blocked it. Blocking someone that wants nothing to do with you seemed kind of counterproductive, so I never bothered. But in saying that, if I’d seen his number flash across the screen, I probably wouldn’t have answered. I guess he knew that too.

“What did he say?” Freya asks Steph.

I’m grateful to them both for not trying to get me to speak right now. They know me well, and they know when I need a moment inside my own head.

“He said he wants her back and that he made a mistake.” Steph growls the words.

I hear Freya’s sharp intake of breath. “No shit, dickwad, we all know you made a mistake.” She mutters a string of curse words. “Who the hell does he think he is, trying to waltz back in?”

“A Steele,” I reply, my voice even and dull. “He’s a Steele.”

I feel a little bad referring to their family like that, as though being a Steele is a death sentence – Ryan is a Steele too, my baby will be a Steele – but Ryan’s nothing like Jacob or his father. He’s not calculating, manipulative or ruthless. My baby won’t be either.

“So what?” Freya scowls.

“So they always get what they want. Jacob always gets what he wants. I was with him for five years and I never saw him lose. Not once.”

“Well not today, Satan,” Steph quips, “he burnt this bridge good and proper. He’ll have to get through us first.”

The baby starts wriggling around, I can feel his or her little feet softly kicking me.

“I want to leave,” I reply quietly.

I can’t explain the feeling I’m having right now – it’s like I’m too exposed here in the middle of this cafe – I feel like a sitting duck. I want to be at home – at Ryan’s, in his arms where I feel safe. The only place in the world I feel like nothing can hurt me.

Ryan. I should tell Ryan about this, but I’m not sure I can, he’ll completely lose the plot.

I go to stand up, but I feel all shaky.

Freya grabs my arm and loops hers through it while Steph collects up our stuff. They sort out everything, and it’s not until I’m in the car, driving back to Ryan’s that the tears start to fall.