Page 78 of Shots Fired

Liam: It will if I board a plane to New York and see you. You shouldn’t be there, Darce. And why have you suddenly decided to work for a lowly fashion magazine? I thought you had aspirations that were higher than that. You always screamed about your dreams enough, LOL.

Darcy: The only aspirations I have right now are ones that involve ending this conversation.

Liam: And there’s the problem, right there.

Darcy: …

Liam: You’ve always thought you were above me, always had the witty retorts to try and shut me down. Is it any wonder I cheated when you’re so fucking full of yourself? So fucking self-assured all the time.

Liam: Good luck to whoever your guy is. He’s going to fucking need it.

The fact that it’s Darcy’s phone I’m holding is the only reason it isn’t crushed into a thousand pieces.

Motherfucker.

I stand, staring down the lit street, cars passing and people walking by as I think over—or more try and talk myself out of—calling this prick.

Fuck it.He won’t know my voice. He’s likely never watched a hockey game in his life. Probably into some weird shit.

At the international dial tone, I can’t fight back the smug smile. Good. He’s still thousands of miles from her—exactly where he needs to be.

“Hello? Darcy?” a sleepy male voice croaks down the line.

Instantly, my adrenaline is pumping. The rage I felt before has nothing on now.

“Is everything okay?” he asks when I don’t reply.

AsI hear him shift in bed, since it must be three a.m. in the UK right now, I wonder if he’s actually alone or still shacked up with the girl he claims he’s ended things with.

“Baby, are you still there?”

“Don’t call her baby,” I growl.

There’s silence for a beat before Liam speaks again. “Um, okay. Who the fuck is this?”

I snarl, and even though he can’t see me, it still feels good. “Who I am really doesn’t matter, but what I have to say to you absolutely does. So, clean out your arrogant British ears and listen very fucking carefully.”

“Excuse me?” he replies, sounding offended.

I chuckle, loving every second of this as I lean against the streetlight next to me, switching Darcy’s phone to my other ear.

“At what point in your miserable fucking life did you conclude that you had the right to say the kind of shit you did to Darcy over text?”

He huffs out a laugh, a condescending tone dripping from his voice. “Ah, so you must be her new fella.”

“Damn right I’m her newfella,” I mock in a broad London accent. “I’m also your new worst nightmare.”

All he does is laugh, and I picture my fist as it extends across the Atlantic Ocean, landing straight between his eyes.

“Listen, whatever your name is. I appreciate the call and everything, but I don’t respond well to threats, and neither does my solicitor.”

I double over, my stomach muscles genuinely hurting as I explode with laughter.

“Solicitor?! No one is breaking the law. I’m referring to breaking bones—specifically the ones in your face—should you even consider messaging my girl again. She was done with you the first time, and she’s definitely done with you now.”

“Dude, you’re a sandwich short of a picnic.” He snorts, but I can hear the slight tremor as it enters his voice. “Does Jack know his sister is dating a fucking lunatic?”

My knuckles form an even tighter fist around Darcy’s phone as I check over my shoulder to make sure the coast is still clear and no one is eavesdropping.

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