The First Rule by Nicole S. Goodin

17

Darcy

“I know about the baby.”

That’s all it says. A text message from a random number, about ten minutes ago.

I was on the phone to Freya, gushing over the nursery that Ryan set up for the baby and surprised me with yesterday, when the message came through.

She’s already on her way over here.

It’s probably not necessary, but I’ve been so on edge lately, jumping at shadows, freaking out every time I hear a phone ring... I know I’m going to crack soon. All this stress can’t be good for the baby. I know I should have told Ryan what happened the other day, but I just couldn’t. Everything between us is going so well and I didn’t want to let some stupid, out-of-the-blue phone call from Jacob ruin it. I figured if I ignored it, it would just go away. I’m beginning to think I might have been wrong.

Freya shouldn’t be too far away now – I wish she were already here. I’m falling apart at the seams.

I hear her car pull into the drive and a door shut with a thud, I rush to the front door and fling it open.

“Show me,” she insists, holding her hand out for my phone as she comes inside, and I slam the door shut behind her.

I hand over the phone, glad to have it away from me and follow her through the house.

“What the fuck?” she mutters as she drops into a seat at the dining table.

“I don’t know.” I shrug. “It has to be Jacob, right?” I sink my teeth into my bottom lip. “I don’t know anyone else that would send me that.”

“How would he know though?”

“I don’t know.” I shrug.

“Would Ryan have told him?” she questions.

I shake my head quickly. I may not know what’s going on here, but I know one thing, Jacob definitely did not find out about the pregnancy from his twin.

She gasps and drops the phone to the table. “He just text again.”

“What does it say?” I whisper.

Her eyes widen as she picks the phone back up and reads the new message. “Is it mine?”

“That’s it?”

She nods. “Guess we know for sure that it is Jacob texting... and I guess anyone could have told him, it’s obvious just from looking at you now.”

I don’t feel any relief in that knowledge, if anything, I feel worse. Jacob knows I’m pregnant and he wants to know if my baby is his.

“I hate to ask... but could the baby be his?” Freya questions with a grimace.

I open my mouth to say no, that’s there’s no way, but the reality is that there is a chance. I know it’s Ryan’s, not Jacob’s – I just know it in my heart, but technically, there is a chance.

Jacob and I tried for a long, long time and nothing ever happened. If it were going to happen with Jake, it would have before now. I know it’s not totally foolproof, but it’s certainly logical. Plus, the dates work better for Ryan and me, not for Jacob and me, but again, these things aren’t foolproof – the scans have a margin of error.

“We had sex about three weeks before the wedding,” I admit.

She sighs. Freya and Steph both know everything about Jacob, about us trying for a baby for such a long time, about my night with Ryan... so she knows that the likelihood of the baby being Jacob’s is low – but not impossible. The odds are probably similar to those of getting pregnant from sleeping with a man once, and that’s exactly what worries me.

My phone buzzes again. It interrupts my train of thought and fills me with dread in an instant.

“What is it?” I breathe.

Freya looks at me sympathetically and unlocks the screen. Her head drops forward as she reads the text. “He wants a paternity test.”

My heart thumps in my chest. He wants a paternity test. He has no right to demand anything from me, but I know damn well that if he wants one, he’ll get one. He’ll drag me through the courts if he has to.

I can’t believe this is happening.

“Maybe I should just do what he wants.” My voice is so quiet and broken I almost don’t recognise it.

This man, this pathetic excuse for a man... he broke my heart – hurt me more than anyone else in the world has ever hurt me, and somehow, he’s still controlling me, my life, my decisions.

I can’t escape him.

“I’d put money on the baby not being his, so maybe this is for the best. It’ll prove the baby is Ryan’s and he’ll leave me alone, right?”

Freya opens her mouth to reply, but I’m still rambling.

“He can’t do anything if we have a document saying that it’s not his. It’s a non-invasive procedure, right?”

“D, honey, stop.”

I look up from the table to meet Freya’s concerned gaze.

“There’s one slight problem.”

“Of course there is, this is me we’re talking about, if anything can go wrong, it will.” I sigh. “What is it?”

“I don’t think getting a paternity test is going to help you. Ryan and Jacob are identical twins; their DNA is virtually identical too...” She’s using her sympathetic nurse voice – her clinic voice. The one I bet she uses to deliver crappy news to patients and families.

The penny drops.

They’re identical.

“Even if the baby is Ryan’s, it’ll still be a match to Jacob, and vice versa. It would take a hell of a lot more than a standard paternity test to prove who of the two was the father, and in some cases, it might be impossible.”

No. No, no, no, no, no.

I’m screwed. I’m carrying a baby and I can’t even prove who the father is. I have a history of fucking things up, but this takes the cake. This is a new level of messed up, even for me.

“So let me get this straight.” I hear my voice rise an octave as I speak. “Jacob is saying he wants a paternity test, and even if he’s not the father, the test will come back saying that he is?”

She nods. “In a nutshell, yes. I’m so sorry, Darcy.”

I don’t know what she’s sorry for – this is on me. It’s entirely my own fault. I’m the one who slept with my ex-fiancés twin brother five minutes after her wedding got cancelled. I’m the one who thought it would be a good idea to try and get knocked up by the only person on the planet who shares identical DNA to the man I want nothing to do with.

I did this to myself.

“What am I going to do?” I whisper.

“Do you think he knows the baby is Ryan’s?” she asks.

I don’t know how he could, but I wouldn’t put anything past him anymore. He’s got money, resources and one hell of a habit of holding a grudge. Ryan has been a sore spot for Jacob for years; if he did know that his brother had fathered my child, it would probably only make him more determined to ruin our lives.

“I think it would be safest to assume that he knows everything.” I can feel another meltdown coming on, and I don’t even bother trying to talk myself down off the ledge this time. There’s no easy way out here – there’s only disaster. In every direction.

I’m having a baby and I’ll never know for absolute certain who the father is.

I should have seen this coming. It couldn’t be that simple. Nothing in my life ever is. I have no idea what my next move is, but I need to think, and fast.

* * *

I managedto calm down enough that Freya agreed to leave me here alone. Thank God. Her pacing and ranting was driving me insane.

Ryan text about half an hour ago to say he’d be home in an hour or so, so I’ve been waiting for him so I can tell him what’s happened. I need to tell him everything so we can plan our next move together.

I know he’s not going to be happy.

His hatred for his brother runs deeper than I knew.

I wasn’t aware, but Freya told me that when Jacob walked out on me at the wedding, Ryan followed him and punched him so hard it broke his nose, so I can’t imagine he’s going to be too thrilled to hear his brother is attempting to contact me again now. Even less thrilled when he finds out that Jacob could be trying to claim he’s the baby’s father.

I’ve had no more texts at least, but I know Jacob, and he doesn’t give up that easy. There will be more, but Ryan and I, we’ll deal with it together.

There’s a knock at the door and relief floods through me. He’s home. Obviously forgot his key again, but he’s home.

I rush to the door and fling it open without even checking to see it’s him.

It’s not. It’s almost him, but not quite.

“Jacob.” I choke out his name.

“Hello, Darcy.”

His eyes rake over me, starting at my face and moving lower. I recoil in horror at the knowledge that he’s seeing my protruding stomach for what I assume is the first time.

He doesn’t linger at my belly though, his eyes sweeping down to my feet and back up to my eyes again.

He gives me no reaction and it’s somehow more terrifying than yelling and screaming would have been.

I was right. I can tell by looking at him that he knows everything. He knew where to find me, which means he knows about Ryan. Nothing about this interaction is unexpected, I acknowledge.

He knows. He knows it all.

“I think you’d better let me come in.”

“Ryan will be home soon,” I blurt out.

He huffs out a humourless laugh. “I’m well aware of where Ryan is.” It’s creepy – the way he says that. Like he has eyes on Ryan, which for all I know, he does.

I don’t know what to do. I should slam the door in his face and lock it behind me, but I’m scared. He’ll just come back. He’ll keep coming back until he’s finished with whatever game he’s playing.

He’s a narcissist, plain and simple. It took me leaving the situation – our relationship – for me to see it, but now that I do, it’s clear as day. He’s cunning, manipulative, and he wants what he can’t have. He’s selfish and self-centred and would crush anyone to get ahead. It’s all just collateral damage – me included.

My body moves before my brain has had time to make a decision. I step aside, and he walks inside without pausing, like he owns the place, although I very much doubt he’s ever set foot inside this house. I’m quite confident he’s never taken the time to visit his brother, yet looking at him, you’d think he’d come here every day for his entire life.

I used to find it endearing – the way he carried himself so confidently... now I see that’s what made it so easy to listen to and believe all the things he told me – it was the complete and utter conviction he delivered his lies with.

I find him sitting in Ryan’s usual spot on the couch, and I hate everything about it. I hate seeing him here. I hate that he’s tainting this little piece of peace I’ve managed to create. I hate him.

I sit in the seat the farthest away from him, and even that, I do reluctantly. I want to walk out the front door and not look back – but I know that would be pointless. You can’t outrun Jacob Steele.

“You look good, Darcy.”

I don’t reply, not only because I know I look like shit, but because I know he’s not being genuine. He delivers the line like he read it directly from a script.

“I miss you. I want us to get back together.”

I knew it was going to come out of his mouth, yet it still shocks me. The total absurdity of it leaves me in disbelief.

“Are you kidding?” I manage.

“Unfortunately not.” He grinds his teeth together in irritation, and that’s when I figure it out. He’s not here because he wants to be – he’s here because he’s been ordered.

He doesn’t want me any more than I want him… which can only mean one thing. Daddy dearest snapped his fingers.

The only man out there bigger and badder than Jacob Steele is his prick of a father – Conrad Steele. He’s the only person that Jacob bows down to, and I have a feeling that he’s in control – this realisation only terrifies me more. That man is the devil reincarnated.

“Do I ever kid when it comes to my work?”

He doesn’t, not ever, although I’m not entirely sure yet what exactly this has to do with his work.

“You walked out on me on our wedding day, you don’t want me,” I argue.

“I made a mistake.”

Lies.

“I don’t love you anymore, Jacob. I’m not sure I ever really did.”

He chuckles, dark and menacing. “This isn’t about love. Jesus Christ, Darcy, you’re so naive. You live in this fairy-tale with Prince Charming and true love coming to save you. That bullshit isn’t real life. Who gives a fuck about love? This is business.”

And there it is. I’m not stupid, I’ve seen the stories, the gossip columns. I’ve seen the things they’ve said about Jacob, about the business. About how maybe he’s not the best choice to be the next CEO. This story has stuck around far longer than I ever considered it would. He’s the city’s most eligible bachelor now, but the media still seem to want to focus on his misgivings rather than his new single life. According to Steph, he’s still being labelled as ‘cunt of the year’.

He needs to clean up his appearance and the easiest way to do that, is to get me back.

“I won’t do it,” I say, my voice far stronger than I expected it to be.

“Oh, you’ll do it alright. Unless you want to fight my name and money in court... where I’ll win.” He smirks knowingly. “I could make sure you never see that baby again.”

A fresh wave of shock hits me. I’m obviously aware that he knows I’m pregnant, but hearing him speak about my baby makes me feel sick.

“You can’t do that. This baby is nothing to do with you.”

I know that I’m up shit creek without a paddle right now, but I just have to keep my cool and hope like hell that Jacob doesn’t know what I do – that I’m completely and utterly fucked.

The look on his face scares me. Not because I think he’s going to reach out and hurt me physically... this is worse... it’s a look that says he’s going to crush my soul.

“But it is...” he replies airily, “that’s the interesting thing about identical twins. I did some research and turns out it’s incredibly difficult to tell them apart by DNA... so let’s say it was up for debate about who fathered that child... there would be no easy way of knowing.”

Minutes of silence stretch by as I come to terms with the reality that he’s doing this on purpose. He knows as well as I do that the chances of this baby being his are next to nothing, but he doesn’t care. He’ll lie, manipulate and hurt anyone to get what he needs from them.

“I can’t say for sure, but I think a judge would probably side with a prominent businessman over the bitter woman he left at the altar. Don’t you?”

I’m screwed. So completely and totally screwed and he knows it. He knew it before he even walked in the door. This isn’t about who a judge would side with, because I’d never get a fair trial. He and his father have half of the city’s judges in their back pockets. This is about power, money and business.

He’s got me cornered. I don’t know how he’s done it, but he has. He’s found a way to ensure I either give him exactly what he wants, or I lose everything.

Even if I were to tell Ryan, even if he used every last cent he had to try and fight this, it would be nothing but a drop in the bucket up against the resources of Jacob and his father. And then not only would I have lost everything, but he will have too. We’d both have nothing.

I can’t lose my child.

I can’t let Ryan lose it all for me.

“I can reach out and break you, Darcy.”

He knows. He knows he’s left me with no choice. He knows everything and I, stupidly, didn’t see any of it coming.

“You’re a bastard.” I choke out the words.

“I’ve been called worse.”

He glances at his watch as though this interaction is keeping him from something vastly more important. As though he hasn’t just destroyed my entire life in the space of ten minutes.

“It’s not so bad. You can have a good life. You were happy with me once, you’ll be happy again. You can buy expensive things... keep your child. Just do what you’re told and don’t force my hand.”

“I’ll never forgive you for this,” I say. As though it’ll change anything. As though he’d ever care about my forgiveness.

“I can live with that,” he replies coldly.

“What am I meant to do? What do you expect me to tell Ryan?” I demand, the panic setting in thick and fast now. This all just became too real. This is going to destroy Ryan.

“I don’t give a shit what you tell my good-for-nothing brother, say whatever you have to say. Do whatever you have to do.”

I have to get out of here. I can’t breathe.

I rush from the room, not caring that he’s still here. He’ll leave. He’ll want to be gone before Ryan gets back – it’s all part of the game.

I can’t believe I thought I loved Jacob only a few months ago. I don’t even know who he really is – and the parts I do know and understand, are not parts I like. I feel like a fool. I’ve been played.

I shut the door to the room that was set up as mine, but I haven’t slept in for weeks. Ryan’s room has become our room, but I can’t face going in there right now – seeing the messy bed and knowing that I’ll never get to slide back into it with his warm body wrapped around mine might break me.

This is going to crush him. He loves me. I know he does, and this baby too. I know in my heart that it’s his. But I have no way to prove it. I can’t prove that Jacob didn’t father this child and trying will only kill us both.

I’m going to take so much from Ryan, but my choices both suck. I either break his heart and leave, he loses me and the baby, but he keeps his home, his business and his sanity. Or I stay – we fight, and in the end, all he’d be left with is me. No money, no baby. He’d hate me by the end of that. I’m no match for Jacob. I can’t fight him. I won’t win. No one ever does.