Finally, Shadow Justice got a call for something interesting. This case, organized break-ins running through a golf club, is juicier than normal. Thank God because, for some reason, life has bored the hell out of me lately.
Gabriel blows across his mug. “No fingerprints, balaclavas, and it’s still obvious from CCTV, it’s the same three men. But this isn’t about catching the thieves. It’s about catching the organizer.”
“Yeah,” I agree. “But this will take finesse.We can’t go stomping our muddy combat boots through the foyer of some fancy golf club.”
Just then, my phone buzzes.
Freya
We need to talk.
Those four words make the pulse climb before the brain catches up. We’ve only texted a bit since our morning together. We fell into a new, permanent rhythm of long-distance friendship. Me checking in because I need to know she’s okay, especially now she’s on the beat, and her sending me an update or two most normal people wouldn’t understand.
I miss her even though I know it’ll get easier eventually. It should. It did after my ex.
But that was different. When someone cheats, you don’t miss them. You miss the version of yourself that used to trust.
It would be easier to get over Freya if she would do something wrong. But I know she won’t. She has too much integrity.
But I stare back down at the message.
We need to talk.
Those words rarely bear good news.
“Something wrong?” Gabriel asks.
“Hope not,” I say, standing.
Outside, the morning air cuts sharp and clean. My breath ghosts in front of me as I hit Freya’s number, heart pounding because I know her voice will draw me back in in a way a text message won’t.
She answers on the first ring. “Hey.”
My gut instinctively sinks at the tone of her voice.
“Everything okay?”
A loaded pause fills the air.
“I’m pregnant.”
Pregnant?
My heart bursts apart, and I can’t gather the pieces fast enough to make sense of them. How did this even happen? I swear the condom was intact that morning. I checked because my release was so insane, I swore I blew the thing apart.
Maybe there was a tear I missed?
She’s pregnant?
My chest swells immediately, my heart unaware of the chaos sure to follow because it thumps with overwhelming feelings.
She’s carrying something that’s half me, half her.
But then, the romance of it fades enough for logic to sink in. It’s been more than two months since we were together.
“When did you find out?” I ask.
The pause is loaded. “With a stick test a while ago, but officially, today.” She sighs. “I wanted the doctor to confirm it. To be sure before I told you.”
