Chapter 1
Today was going to be Darcy Davies’ day.
No, scratch that. Today was going to be the day. She could feel it in her bones— actually, she felt it in her knees. Knees never lied… right?
Promotion. Candlelight celebratory dinner. Fancy gift. It was all going to fall into place.
She’d walk into work like a badass, demanding the raise she definitely deserved— because how dare Carol get next in line for it— forget how she had to rehearse the discussion in the mirror seventeen times, and then Kate would give her the necklace. The one Darcy had accidentally found yesterday in the back of the junk drawer while half naked and bleeding.
Not that she had been intentionally snooping. She wasn’t a snooper. Sure, she felt like a curious little ADHD goblin bouncing around Kate’s apartment in search of a band-aid after nicking her ankle with a razor from the stone age.
Seriously, how old was that thing?
And who the hell keeps first aid supplies in the kitchen drawer next to a wine cork and three random screws? A psychopath, that’s who. But that was Kate– beautiful, brilliant, organized chaos wrapped in a government badge and great cheekbones.
Honestly, it wasn’t even just her cheekbones. Everything about the woman made Darcy swoon. And Darcy never swooned. Not once in her life.
Darcy had groaned, yanking on the kitchen drawer that refused to budge. Something had it wedged shut. She gave it another tug, and smirked. For someone as tidy and terrifyingly efficient as Kate, it was both comforting and mildly funny to know she had a junk drawer. A jammed, unorganized, wonderfully human junk drawer. It seemed everyone did have flaws. Kate’s just happened to be miscellaneous batteries, pens, old junk mail, and mystery keys that led to God knows where.
Bending down, Darcy squinted in the narrow gap at the top. Something was caught under the lip. She slid her hand in blindly, fingers brushing loose paper, something sticky, a pen without a cap, and then…
Velvet.
Darcy froze.
She nudged her hand further, carefully prying it out. A small square box covered in red velvet. It looked like it had been plucked right off a romantic proposal scene.
Her heart shuttered.
No. There was no way.
She stood there, dumbfounded, blinking at it like it might vanish if she looked away. Slowly, she cracked it open, the lid creaking as if the moment needed more tense drama.
Inside sat the most breathtaking diamond necklace she’d ever seen. Delicate, dazzling, outrageously expensive. It looked like it belonged to someone who regularly spent time on yachts, not someone who could barely keep a houseplant alive.
“Holy. Shit.” she whispered.
She didn’t breathe. Not really. The blood from her scraped ankle mingled with the dripping water from her shower-wet legs, leaving little red-pink drops on Kate’s pristine floor. But she couldn’t move.
Her mind scrambled. Was this… for her? They hadn’t talked about gifts. They had barely hit six months together. Hadn’t they agreed to take things slow? Weren’t they being mature and methodical about this whole falling-in-love thing?
Darcy’s stomach flipped. Her heart thudded wildly as it climbed up her throat like it was trying to leap out and run away from this level of commitment.
Maybe it’s not for me, she reasoned with herself.
And yet… the thought of it for a past lover hurt. Just a little.
Their whole relationship had started with chaos. Her family’s vacation-that-wasn’t-really-a-vacation, her father using the trip to network with his new boss while she tagged along like an afterthought. But then she met Kate. Magnetic, mysterious, smiling at her across beach lounge chairs like Darcy wasn’t invisible. Like she mattered. Like she had caught her eye despite all the beautiful people milling about in bathing suits that left nothing to the imagination.
They had clicked in a way that felt less like fireworks and more like a gravitational pull.
And then, Kate had bumped into her at the grocery store, literally, and Darcy had shrieked, dropped her phone, and knocked over a stand of avocados. Romance, thy name was Clumsy.
And now here she was, half-dressed, dripping shower water, staring at a necklace worth more than her student loans.
She didn’t know what she expected from today, but it certainly wasn’t this. And spoiler alert: things were about to continue spiraling. But at this moment, nothing else existed. The only thing that truly existed in this moment, was the sharp sparkle of diamonds and a thousand jumbled questions in her chest.
Darcy finally managed to shut the drawer, after stuffing the necklace box back inside with the same delicacy one might use with a live grenade. She stood there, dripping on the floor, the hum of the refrigerator suddenly too loud. Her mind was still trying to process what she’d just discovered.
She needed coffee, stat. And a moment to breathe. Or probably, a call to a therapist.
By the time she left Kate’s apartment, her hair was still wet, her brain was running through dialog from at least four imaginary conversations with Kate, and her nerves were coiled tighter than an old spring about to snap. Tighter than the strap of her shoes, one of which had come undone three steps from the front door. She bent to fix it, wobbled, and almost headbutted a potted plant someone placed in the hallway.
“Okay,” she muttered to herself. “It’s fine. You’re fine. It was just a necklace. Probably not for you. Totally not a big deal.”
Her only answer was the slam of a door far down the hall.
The corner coffee shop was the only constant in her morning routine. She ordered her usual, a cold brew with extra espresso, and tried not to read too much into the fact that the barista spelled her name Darsea. Again. Like the ocean.
But as she reached the door to her office, the universe struck. Hard.
A man walking out of the building bumped into her shoulder, sending her careening into the doorframe. Her coffee lurched forward like it had been waiting for this exact moment to betray her, and then… splat.
A frozen, dark, caffeinated tidal wave down the front of her white blouse.
Darcy stood there for a second, her mind about three paces behind the current moment. She watched the coffee puddle on the concrete like it was bleeding out. An older woman passing by gave her a sympathetic glance.
“Rough start to the day, huh?” she asked.
Darcy gave a weak thumbs up and mumbled, “just practicing for my caffeine baptism.”
She wanted to sprint back to Kate’s apartment and steal one of her shirts. One of the ironed and pressed buttoned long sleeve shirts she always wore to work. Even though Kate’s apartment was closer than her own, it would still mean Darcy would be a few minutes late into the office. She couldn’t be late today. Not with the meeting with the director. The one where she planned, and rehearsed, to finally, officially, politely-yet-confidently ask for that promotion.
She smiled too hard, she stammered, and might have used the word “growth” three times in one sentence. And when she finally got the words out, the director didn’t even hide his amusement.
“Darcy, you’ve got… a little something,” he gestured vaguely at her shirt peeking out from the sweater she always left on her computer chair at her desk. She had flung it on as a last ditch effort to hide the massive coffee stain, but apparently, it couldn’t hide it all.
Of course he saw it.
Still, she didn’t cry. Not when her lunch order got mixed up with another, not when she replied all on an email that wasn’t meant for the entire department, and not even when her umbrella turned inside out in the wind on her walk back to her apartment.
No, Darcy saved her breakdown for 6:45 pm, when the smoke detector screamed and the wonderful dinner she’d been so proud of, now resembled shingles off someone’s roof. Blackened. Shrinking. And most certainly dead beyond reason.
She stared at it.
“Fantastic,” she groaned. “Just add it to the list. You little crispy Anakin Skywalker.”
She hadn’t even had time to change yet after her quick shower. Her planned outfit— an actual dress with one of those tiny buttons at the back you could barely reach on your own— still hung untouched on the back of the bedroom door.
Darcy hadn’t looked at the necklace again. It was still wedged quietly in the drawer, daring her to ask out loud:
Is this for me?
But Darcy wasn’t sure she was ready for the answer.
She was only sure of one thing. Tomorrow, she was wearing black. A color such as that didn’t show coffee stains. And if tomorrow went anything like today had, well, at least coffee would be her last concern.
“Darce?” Kate called from the kitchen, keys clinking as she dropped them on the table next to the door. “You are aware the chicken looks like it fought a flame thrower and lost, right?”
“Of course I do!” Darcy squeaked, her voice cracking as she slapped her palms over her face in an attempt to hide the mascara streaking down her cheeks. “Why don’t you say something else obvious? Like the fact that I’m hideous and terrible.”
She was a wreck and she knew it. But knowing it didn’t make the tears stop.
She heard Kate’s footsteps, felt her kneel in front of her even before she looked up. Kate’s presence always had this strange, calming gravity. Her hand found Darcy’s knee, grounding her.
“You are not terrible,” Kate said softly. “And hideous? Never. Darce, you’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever met.”
God, did she have to say that while looking so freaking flawless?
Kate was in that form fitting suit, one of Darcy’s favorites, with her dark hair falling in soft waves and her makeup done just right. It was that no-makeup, makeup look Darcy could never pull off herself.
Darcy peeled her hands from her face, revealing the rivers of mascara, trying to prove just how bad things were. Kate didn’t flinch. She just cupped her face and kissed her.
Darcy melted into it. For a moment, the day blurred away. Kate was her one thing going right. Her brightest star in the messiest night sky. Nothing could go wrong with Kate.
Sure, they’d only been together just under a year, since Kate took that mysterious job in D.C., but Darcy knew, even without the very expensive necklace, they were headed toward something real. She didn’t know what the next step was, exactly, but she was sure they’d figure it out.
“Babe,” Kate said gently, her hand still resting on Darcy’s leg. “Talk to me. What in the world happened?”
Darcy let her head thunk back against the wall. “God, what didn’t?”
Kate gave her a small smile. “Okay. I guess start at the beginning.”
Darcy rolled her eyes. “Well, I stayed at your place last night,” she began.
Kate smirked. Of course she did. Darcy nudged her lightly in an effort to get her mind out of the gutter over what they’d done last night.
“I was running late… surprise,” She gestured aimlessly. Then, her next words came out so fast, she barely kept up with her own train of thought.
“I decided to shave my legs because I was wearing that nice skirt. It’s the only decent thing I had at your place. And I couldn’t swing by mine. Long story short, I nicked my leg with your ancient razor. You really need to get a new one, you know. It wouldn’t stop bleeding. I used a tissue, but no luck. So there I am, hopping around your kitchen looking for a Band-Aid, and I find the necklace box. And then I got blood on your floor and I started to panic. I was running out of time.”
Kate’s brow arched slightly, but she said nothing.
“I cleaned up, got dressed, and rushed out the door. I was already planning to go full power move, on Lawrence. You know, finally ask for the raise I’ve earned, just like we talked about. But I spilled coffee on myself walking in the door— like the total mess I am. Still, I powered through, coffee stains and all. I marched up to Lawrence to tell him I deserved that raise.”
Darcy flailed her hands as she talked, the only way she knew how to properly tell a story.
“And he laughed, Kate. Laughed. Like it was some kind of joke. So, I gave up on that disaster and came home, determined to make you a celebratory dinner.” she scoffed. “I don’t even know what we’re celebrating anymore. Definitely not a promotion.”
She rubbed her eyes with the heel of her palms. “Anyway, I couldn’t find anything to wear, tried to clean the coffee stain out of my shirt, and while doing that I forgot about the chicken. Next thing I know, smoke’s everywhere. I thought the sprinklers were going to go off.”
Darcy finally took a breath. She peeked from between her fingers.
Kate hadn’t said anything. Her face had gone pale, eyes wide. Something wasn’t right.
“Darcy,” she said, voice cool and tight. “Did you open the box?”
Darcy frowned. “What?”
Kate’s jaw clenched. “Did. You. Open. The necklace. Box.”
Oh no.
Was it not meant for her?
Was Kate cheating?
Darcy’s stomach dropped. Her mother had warned her. Kate was too perfect. Worked in high-profile government circles, always kind, warm, charming. Flawless. Unnatural.
She’d always told herself Kate’s flaws were cute. Like how she sometimes forgot to clean her makeup off her face at night or left hair in the shower drain. All very normal attributes.
But a secret girlfriend? That wasn’t quirky.
Darcy’s voice came out small. “...yes?”
In a flash, Kate was moving. Drawers flew open, clothes landed in a pile on the bed with chaotic precision. It was almost comical, the stream of fabric flying in the air, every article of clothing seemed to fall in the same exact spot on the bed like a quarterback at practice.
“Kate?” Darcy whispered.
“Put clothes on.” Kate snapped, voice muffled from her head buried in the closet.
Darcy didn’t move.
Kate spun toward her. “Now, Darce.” Her tone was sharp, unrelenting. “Pants. Sneakers. Now.”
Darcy pressed her back into the wall, inching upright. “What are you doing?”
Kate was already digging out Darcy’s old military backpack, the one her dad had given her years ago from one of his many deployments, and began shoving clothes into it.
“I–Kate?”
“Where’s your passport?” Kate muttered. “Forget it.” She sprinted to her work bag and pulled out a sleek black phone. One Darcy had never seen before.
Oh God. A burner phone. She was cheating.
Darcy’s heart plummeted. “Who was the necklace for?” Her voice didn’t sound like her own.
Kate ignored her. “It’s me,” she said into the phone. “I need documents. For Darcy Davies. Yes, Sam. Both of us.”
Kate met Darcy’s eyes. There was something fierce and serious in them that made Darcy flinch.
“Change, Darce. Now.”
“No,” Darcy said, crossing her arms.
Kate paused. “Sam, hold on.” She lowered the phone. “Darcy. That necklace wasn’t meant for you.”
Darcy felt her heart shatter. She knew it.
Kate took a breath. “It was meant for me.”
Darcy blinked. “What?”
“If you opened it… they’ll know. And if they don’t already, they will very soon.”
“What the fuck are you talking about?” Darcy’s tone was low.
Kate tossed jeans at her with perfect aim. “Put these on.”
Darcy did, almost on instinct. If she was going to get dumped or yelled at or whatever this was, she wasn’t doing it in a bathrobe.
Crop top. Jeans. One sneaker.
“Sam, I need those passports in ten,” Kate barked into the phone. “We’re exposed.”
Darcy only caught one sneaker. The other bounced across the floor.
“What is happening?” she shrieked.
Kate shoved a baseball cap on her head, calm as ever. “I’ll be on the strip in twenty,” she said. “You know my driving. I’ll be there in ten.”
Kate slung the bag over one shoulder, steady and focused. The calm within the middle of an unforeseen storm.
“Thank you, Sam. And no, you still owe me. I’m cashing in one of about a hundred favors now.”
“Kate!” Darcy shouted. She had to know. “Who are you talking to? Was the necklace for them?” She crossed her arms over her chest not wanting to ask her next question, but the words spilled out anyway. “Are you cheating on me?”
For a moment, all she got was a confused stare from Kate. The voice on the phone was muffled and indistinct.
“We’ll talk shortly. Once I’m in the air.” Kate murmured into the phone.
In the air? What in the actual fuck?
Kate tucked the phone into the inside pocket of her suit jacket and reached for Darcy’s arm, but she jerked away. The look Kate gave her could’ve killed… if looks actually do that.
“Don’t touch me.” Darcy snapped. “If you’re cheating on me, just say it. Rip it off like a band-aid.” She winced. The irony wasn’t lost on her. “Let this day end on a high-note.”
“Darce, we don’t have time for this.”
“Like hell we don’t!” She pushed. “Tell me what you’re doing behind my back.”
“If you come with me, I’ll tell you on the way.”
“I’m not going anywhere with you until you tell me the truth.” Darcy planted her feet.
Kate bent down and picked up the baseball cap Darcy left on the floor, and yanked it over her head. “Wear this. Don’t take it off. No matter what.”
It was Darcy’s old running hat. Light blue, sweat stained, always forgotten on laundry day.
Kate reached for her again, this time grabbing Darcy’s arm despite the attempted dodge. “I’m not cheating on you. But we need to leave. Now.”
Something in her voice made Darcy freeze. Or maybe it was the tiny red dot that appeared on Kate’s forehead. Darcy tilted her head. Was some kid playing with a laser pointer through the window?
Kate followed her gaze. Before Darcy could ask, Kate yanked her into her chest and spun.
A deafening crack broke the tense silence and glass shattered. A hole punched through the wall where they’d just been standing. Dust and drywall exploded around them. Darcy screamed.
Kate’s hand pressed firmly over Darcy’s head as she shoved her forward in a crouch. Another crack. Her lamp burst into pieces, raining down shards.
They reached the front door and Kate flung it open–
A massive man in black stood in the doorway.
Before Darcy could blink, Kate shoved her sideways. She hit the floor and scrambled backward.
When she looked up, Kate’s elbow was already slamming into the man’s nose. There was a sickening sound from the impact, like celery snapping. Then the man lunged, but Kate moved faster, dodging his punch, grabbing his arm.
He flew in an arc over her shoulder.
“Holy—” Darcy breathed, wide-eyed.
Darcy felt glued to the floor. She couldn’t move, could barely process what she was seeing. Kate fought like a trained soldier. Every move was sharp and efficient as if she’d been expecting every attack.
Then, Kate was on the floor. The man’s head caught between her arms. Then, there was a sickening crunch.
His body went limp.
Oh God. He’s dead. She just… killed him.
Kate was up again, grabbing the backpack with one hand and Darcy’s arm with the other.
Darcy flinched and pulled back.
She just killed someone.
“Darcy, we need to move. There will be ten more of him if we don’t leave now.” Kate was pleading.
Kate’s voice broke through the fog. Darcy hesitated. Then, she reached out with a shaky hand.
Kate gripped her hand tight. Another red dot appeared on Kate’s forehead. Without thinking, Darcy yanked her down with everything she had.
Kate fell forward, landing on top of Darcy just as another shot rang out. Wood and dust exploded around them.
Kate twisted, eyes scanning the new hole decorating the wall, right where her head had been. She looked down to Darcy’s eyes. Their faces were close, too close. Darcy could feel her breath on her cheeks in hot puffs.
“Thanks,” Kate whispered.
Then they were moving again, scrambling to their feet, crouched low, sprinting out the front door.
Darcy didn’t even look back at the man lying motionless on her living room floor.
