Page 41 of Shots Fired

“She’s the ultimate social butterfly.” He drops his hand from his neck, slapping it against a padded thigh. “Well, I don’t suppose she’s feeling very sociable right now though.”

Immediately, I’m back in the conversation, pulse kicking up, along with my adrenaline.

“Oh, really? Why’s that?”

I haven’t spoken to Darcy since we texted yesterday. In truth, I want to speak with her every goddamn second.

On a sigh, he shakes his head. “Mum called me last night, asking if I would stop by her apartment with a prescription for Darcy.”

“Why?” I ask quickly.

He props a hand on his hip. “She has a history of lower respiratory tract infections that the doctors are familiar with, and it looks like another one has hit her. You know what she’s like—fiercely independent, like Kendra—but she needs an antibiotic, and Mum is tied up with work. I dropped them with Darcy first thing this morning, and she looked … yeah, I’m worried about her.”

I’m halfway to the locker room when Jack catches up to me.

“Are you sure everything’s good with you?” He wraps a palm around my arm, twisting me around to face him. “My gut is rarely off, and right now, it’s screaming that something isn’t right with you.”

How in the hell I force a smile, I’ll never know. “I’m honestly fine, Jack. I’m tired, and I didn’t get much sleep last night. I just want to head home.”

What the fuck is this piece of shit?

I could kick this in, using only my big toe.

Knocking a couple of more times on Darcy’s poor excuse for a front door, I wait for her to answer, bracing a hand on the dark wooden frame above my head.

“Excuse me, are you the boy I spoke to a second ago?” An older lady peers around her door, watching me closely.

“Yeah,” I say, going to knock again.

I only know the building Darcy lives in because she told me once on a night out, just after she paid a deposit on the rental agreement. Finding her actual apartment would’ve been a lot harder had it not been for her neighbor—aka the lady who buzzed me up on the intercom and told me Darcy lived next door.

And now she’s standing in front of me, holding what I assume is a key to Darcy’s place.

“Are you her boyfriend?” she asks, sliding the key into the lock.

I’m both grateful and fucking petrified over the current situation. In around three minutes, I’ve seen how easy it would be to break into my girl’s apartment. My best guess is, she isn’t answering her door or phone because she’s passed out in bed, and that hurts my heart.

“Yes,” I reply, spinning more lies as I go.

“Her mom just left, you know. Family have been coming and going all day.”

As I step inside Darcy’s apartment, I’m tempted to ask the old lady how she knows all this, but my gran was exactly the same before she died last year—she knew everything going down on the street where she lived.

“Thank you for your help …” I break off, unsure of her name.

Smiling sweetly, she pockets Darcy’s key. “Elsie. And you are?”

I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised she doesn’t watch hockey. “Archer.” I offer my hand out to her.

“Archer?” a weak voice calls from behind me. “What are you doing?—”

I spin around to find Darcy coughing up a lung.

“Best you go and take care of your girlfriend.” Elsie winks before disappearing out of sight, her front door closing with a click.

I close Darcy’s door and head straight down her hallway, stalking the few yards toward the girl doubled over and dressed in a fluffy pink robe.

Still coughing, she holds a hand up in front of her.