“Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.”

Brooklyn hadn’t expected anything less from Audrey, but she was already regretting having told her friend where she lived.

It’s not like I could hide it from her much longer, Brooklyn reasoned. She probably has a GPS imbedded in my neck or something.

“I’m glad you’re here,” she commented dryly, ushering Audrey off the front stoop and into the living room.

“I’m not,” Audrey barked back, looking around the bungalow with critical eyes. “This dump is smaller than your last dump!”

“It’s not a dump!” Brooklyn protested, and she meant it. Not that the townhouse she had shared with Veronica had been a bad place either. Audrey was surely just looking for ways to make her feel guilty about the decisions she had made recently.

“Pack your shit,” Audrey ordered. “I’m here to take you home to Burlingame.”

Brooklyn didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. She settled on a snort. “Well, that’s not going to happen. Want a coffee?”

“I want a shot of tequila!” Audrey growled. “I want six shots of tequila. What the hell are you doing? This is—is—is—” She stared imploringly at Brooklyn, apparently not finding the appropriate words for whatever it was that she wanted to say. “I’m not joking. Go find me something to drink before I strangle you,” she snapped, and Brooklyn turned to oblige, swallowing the urge to laugh.

It really was not funny, and she knew that Audrey was worried about her, but the redhead’s flair for the dramatic was unsurpassed by anything she had ever seen. She definitely belonged in Vaudeville.

“It’s not that bad,” Brooklyn assured her as she made her way to the liquor cabinet. “Ryan apologized, and—”

“Oh, shut up and pour faster!” Audrey screamed. “I can’t listen to this!”

Brooklyn felt herself tense. Why had she told her that she had reconciled with Ryan? Then she shook her head to herself, fully knowing why she had done it. Audrey was the closest thing to family she had, and no matter how infuriating the woman could be, Brooklyn loved her obnoxious friend like a sister. She certainly pissed her off like a sister would.

Brooklyn was suddenly seized by a terrible pain in her side. She doubled over slightly, and Audrey rushed toward her.

“What happened?” she demanded. “Are you hurt? Did that bastard do something to you?”

“No!” Brooklyn yelled in annoyance, waiting out the pain. It was like a double cramp, knocking the wind out of her. Her heard thudded wildly in her chest. Was it the baby?

“Breathe,” Audrey instructed, leading her away from the cabinet and toward the suede sofa. Hunter barked, his tail wagging nervously. “Haven’t you trained this mutt to kill predators yet?” Audrey muttered to herself. “What are you good for? Hunter, what an inept name.”

“Will you come up for air?” Brooklyn asked, annoyed. She placed her palm against her flat stomach, rubbing away the cramp, and to her surprise, something jutted out to kick her hand. She snatched it away, her eyes bugging.

I’m only two months along, she thought in shock. There’s no way a baby can be kicking already. It doesn’t even have legs!

An image of Cass’s dragon head flashed into her mind, and nausea overcame her.

She bounced from the cushion and bolted toward the powder room, Audrey hurrying after her, but Brooklyn managed to shut the door before retching horribly into the toilet. The morning sickness had been nearly violent, but only once a week or so. Coupled with the searing pain in her abdomen, Brooklyn was growing concerned about the health of the child.

I need to see a doctor, she thought, wiping the beads of sweat from her forehead as she flushed the toilet.

Audrey pounded on the door.

“Let me in!” she yelled. “What happened? I’m going to call 9-1-1!”

“I’m fine!” Brooklyn called back in exasperation. “It’s food poisoning or something. I haven’t been feeling well in days.” She opened the door and offered Audrey a weak smile. “See? All better.” She brushed past her friend and made her way back into the front room to resume making Audrey’s drink.

“I bet you haven’t been feeling well,” Audrey muttered. “But I’m more concerned about your mental health. You need a psych exam for taking that bastard back.”

“He made a mistake,” Brooklyn groaned.

“Oh, yeah? He mistakenly fell into some stripper’s vagina, huh? Man, I hate it when that happens.”

Brooklyn dropped a tumbler glass in Audrey’s outstretched hand, gently perching on the edge of the loveseat. “I really don’t want to talk about this, Audrey.”

“What did you think we were going to talk about?” Audrey demanded, her green eyes wide with disbelief. “The weather?”

“How is everyone at home?”

“Worried about you!” Audrey insisted, and Brooklyn could see that this was going to be an excruciating visit.

“Well, now you can tell them that I am perfectly fine.”

Audrey finally shut her mouth, but only to purse her lips around the rim of the glass, studying Brooklyn’s face with scrutiny. “Something happened, didn’t it? Something bad. That’s why you’re here. Tell me what it is.”

Brooklyn shrugged, trying to seem indifferent, but she could not hold Audrey’s intense stare. Shifting her eyes away, she responded, “I told you, he came to my work and apologized. He assured me that it won’t happen again, and I believed him.”

Audrey didn’t speak right away, as if she could tell her methods so far were not being successful. She cocked her fiery head to the side, her eyes narrowing slightly.

“Fine,” she replied slowly. “I’ll accept that you forgave him… even though I can’t wrap my head around it.”

“Thanks,” Brooklyn said, though she could tell Audrey was not finished. A moment later, her suspicions were confirmed.

“But why did you uproot your life in Burlingame?” her friend asked. “You worked so hard to finally put down roots somewhere, and you just pissed all over that.”

“My landlord threw us out!” Brooklyn cried. “I had nowhere to live, Audrey. Where was I supposed to go?”

“Seriously?” Audrey sneered. “Is that the answer you’re going with? Because if it is, I’m going to backhand you right now. You didn’t even tell any of us about that! You could have stayed with me, or Maddy, or Stella. Shit, even Christine and that religious nut boyfriend of hers would have been thrilled to have you! Instead, you take back Cheating Dickhead and move five hours away without a word to anyone! What about your job, Brook? You were so close to getting that promotion—”

Brooklyn snorted derisively. “I was no closer to getting that promotion when I left than I was two years ago! They just kept dangling it in front of me. Anyway, I can work anywhere. This is LA, Audrey. They have more pharmaceutical companies here.”

“This is Santa Goddamn Clarita, Brooklyn!” her friend screamed. “This is not Los Angeles! You are tucked away here in your little shitty bungalow with your dog, wearing a muumuu in the middle of the damn work day!”

“This is not a muumuu!” Brooklyn cried, glancing down at herself. “This is a—”

“Are you purposely playing dumb with me, or have the suburban fumes gotten to you already?” Audrey questioned. “This is not your life, Brooklyn. This is the life Ryan wants for you. He’s keeping you here, holed up away from society while he’s off roaming the streets of LA with a gun like the little shit he is. He’s going to be back to his old tricks, but you’ll be none the wiser because he’s taken you away from everyone you love. This is what abusers do!”

“He is not abusive!” Brooklyn yelled, running her hands down her face. “You’re such a drama queen! I came out here because I needed a change, too. Maybe I needed to get away from your nosy, intrusive face for a bit!”

Contrary to what Brooklyn had hoped, her words had no effect on Audrey, who held her smirk, unmoved by Brooklyn’s proclamation.

“Well, fat chance of that happening,” she chuckled. “I’m going to be nosy and intrusive until you die, like it or not.”

Brooklyn stared at her, and for a second, all the annoyance and anger she felt toward Audrey disappeared. Instead, they were replaced by an immense gratitude that she had someone on her side—someone who cared about the choices she had made and whether she lived or died. Why was she pushing Audrey away? She only wanted to help her.

Tears welled up in Brooklyn’s eyes. Instantly, Audrey was at her side, pulling her into an embrace.

“I’m here, girl,” she whispered into Brooklyn’s blonde head, squeezing her shoulders tightly. “Whatever it is, I will always be here for you.”

The men in my life might be a royal disappointment, Brooklyn thought, holding onto her friend, but Audrey is always at my side, thank God.

She had barely finished her thought when another stab pierced into her side, causing a scream to rip its way out of her throat. Audrey pulled back at once, gazing at her with horrified eyes.

“What? What?” she cried as Brooklyn fell forward, clutching her stomach.

“Call… an… ambulance,” Brooklyn managed to gasp before she collapsed onto the floor, writhing in pain. Audrey wasted no time, rushing to her purse to snatch up her cell phone and running back toward her fallen friend.

“Please!” she yelled into the phone. “I need an ambulance to… to…”

She looked around helplessly, and Brooklyn rasped out the address. “1867… Orchard… Village…”

“1867 Orchard Village. My friend is… I don’t know what’s wrong with her!” Audrey cried. “She’s white as a sheet and doubled over in pain!”

Audrey listened, her hand trying to rub at Brooklyn’s back comfortingly. Even in her agony, Brooklyn could feel Audrey’s panic.

“I don’t know what happened!” her friend screamed at the dispatcher. “One minute she was fine, the next—”

Brooklyn grabbed her arm weakly, and Audrey stared down at her. “Tell them…”

Audrey stared at her, willing her to continue.

“What?” she shrieked. “Tell them what?”

“I’m… p-p-pregnant.”

Audrey’s face swirled with hundreds of different emotions, and she gaped uncomprehendingly at Brooklyn. After a few seconds, she regained her composure and spoke into the phone, the frenzy gone from her voice.

“Please hurry. I think she’s having a miscarriage.”