Rules

by Doe, Anna B.

  I’m not sure how long we sit like that, and to be honest, I’m not even sure who’s holding who because we both cling to one another like we’ll be swept away by the darkness if we let go. So we hold on as if our lives depend on it, and with time, her body starts to calm down. The tremors pass, and her breathing slowly returns to normal, an occasional hiccup breaking the silence.

  Not for a second do I stop comforting her. My hand glides up and down her back reassuringly.

  “What happened?” I rasp, my voice rough from all the pent-up feelings. “After…”

  Brook’s body tenses for a second, and just when I think I’ve lost her again, I can feel her relax against me. Still, I can’t help but add, “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.”

  “I just…” She sighs, turning her head to the side. “I tried telling Josephine. After… But she didn’t believe me. As soon as he left, I ran to the bathroom to wash it all away. The tears. The puke. The blood. Him. I had to wash it all away because my body was burning with shame. I felt so ugly and small. So when she got home, I was all cleaned up and she accused me of inventing things to get her attention.”

  My heart squeezes so hard, I’m surprised it doesn’t burst. My whole body aches for her. For what happened and all the shitty things she’s had to deal with, before and after. How is this fair? How is it fair that something like this happens to a little girl and there is nobody to care?

  Brook laughs humorlessly. “Like I wanted her attention. By then I already knew I couldn’t rely on her, and if I wanted to survive, I’d have to do it on my own. But I needed her, dammit.” Her clenched fist connects with my peck, wide, haunted green eyes meeting mine. “I needed somebody to believe me. Somebody to save me. Because no matter how strong or resilient or resourceful you are, there are some things out there that are stronger than you. And no matter how hard you try, at the end of the day, when all the bravado falls, you’re only human. A child.”

  There is a familiar sting in my eyes. I close them as one of my hands tangles in her hair and pulls her head to my chest. “I’m so sorry, babe. So, so sorry.”

  I can’t say it enough, and although I know it’ll never make up for what happened to her, for her mother’s betrayal, I repeat the words over and over again. A silent whisper in her ear, as my hand soothes her.

  “She found us in bed, eventually. She was so pissed, but not because he was raping me, of course not. She thought I asked for it. Asked. Do you know how fucked up that is, Max? My own mother found me in bed, covered in sweat, tears, and puke with a man three times older than me, a man who was her boyfriend, and she thought I asked for it.”

  “Brook…”

  “At least she threw him out after that. The only good thing she ever did for me was get that monster out of my life.”

  I shake my head. I’ve never wanted to raise my hand to a woman in my life, not until now. If I ever meet Brook’s mother… not that she can be called that. It’s an insult to every woman who loves and cares for her child, something Josephine Taylor never did for her daughter.

  “Why do you still live with her?” I can’t help but ask.

  “Are you kidding me?” Brook pushes off my chest to look at me. Her eyes are big and puffy, tears staining her cheeks, but there is a fire in her eyes that has been missing before. The fire I welcome wholeheartedly. “Where would I go? Josephine is a shitty excuse for a human being, but at least I have a roof over my head. I thought about leaving, running away somewhere where nobody would find me and starting from zero. Erasing Brook Taylor from this earth and getting a fresh start, but what if they find me and bring me back? Or even worse, put me in the system? What if I, by some miracle, do manage to get away, but end up on the streets? I’ve felt the ugliness of the world on my skin; I have it carved into my flesh, but I’m not silly enough to believe I’ve reached rock bottom. There are far worse things that can happen to a girl out there, and I’m not going to risk it.” Her head falls back as she inhales, fingers gripping my shoulders tightly. “There are no guarantees. Rationally, I know this, but… if something were to happen again... As it is, I’m broken in so many pieces, jaded beyond repair. I’m holding on by a thread, and if something happens again, I won’t be able to survive it.”

  “Don’t say that.” I look into her broken eyes, refusing to believe her words. My forehead presses to hers. “Don’t you dare say that, Brook. They hurt you, but you’re not broken. I call you Firecracker for a reason, and it’s not only because of your feisty attitude. There is a fire burning inside you that’s hotter and stronger than life itself. It will not bow down and be extinguished.”

  “I’m not the person you believe I am, Max.”

  She tries to shake her head and look away, but I cup her cheeks and force her to look at me so there is no doubt about what I think. “No, you’re so much more than that. What happened to you was terrible, but don’t let it define you. It shaped you into the person you are, but don’t let it own you. They betrayed you and used you, but you’re not tainted.”

  “You don’t understa—” She tries again, but I can see her defenses weakening.

  “You’re not tainted, Brook. You’re a survivor, a warrior, and don’t let anybody take that away from you.”

  Her throat bobs as she swallows, tears streaming down her face. Brushing them away, I press my lips against her forehead. “You’re worthy, Brook. Worthy of a new beginning. Worthy of everything good that’ll come your way. Worthy of family and friends. Worthy of love.”

  She inhales a shaky breath, pulling away. Those gem-like eyes zero in on my face, wide and scared, but there is something else hidden inside, a light that wasn’t there before. Hope. My heart flutters—actually flutters—in my chest, the ache that I’ve been feeling slowly melting away. Brushing a strand of her hair out of her face, I let the feeling grow inside of me as I stare at the girl who’s been through hell and back. A girl who thinks so little of herself, while everybody else thinks so highly of her. While I think so highly of her. And not only that…

  As a smile, soft yet small, curls her lips, I realize something else. Something I didn’t want to think before. For her, I’d do anything. Even travel to hell and back. Because as crazy as it sounds, I think I’m falling for her.

  I’m falling for Brook Taylor.

  Chapter Thirty-One

  BROOK

  Slowly, I feel my body stir awake as awareness breaks through the cloud of my dark, dreamless brain. A rare but always welcome thing.

  Every muscle in my body aches as I stretch my limbs, only to bump into something. Someone.

  My eyes fly open, panic overflowing my body, only to settle on Max’s sleeping face. The instant anxiety I was feeling goes away as the memories of last night come front and center. My whole body shivers, but I don’t let my eyes close. No, instead I concentrate on now and the man lying next to me.

  Even in his sleep, there is a frown between his brows, and I cannot help but wonder if I’m the one responsible for putting it there. Yesterday brought a lot of ugly memories for me, but I know that it also upset Max a lot. For all his bad-boy antics, he isn’t used to a world where girls are assaulted in backstreet allies. He was feeling powerless, something I’m very familiar with, yet he didn’t leave, not even for a second. My hand itches to smooth the lines of his face, but I hold back, not wanting to wake him.

  I still couldn’t wrap my mind around the fact that I told him. I told him what happened to me, and he believed me. For all these years, I was holding it in because I didn’t want to risk people not believing me. I didn’t want them to put the blame on me for what happened, assume that I asked for it. But there was also this other part of me, a selfish part, that didn’t want people to look at me differently. Look at me like I’m something damaged, broken beyond repair and tainted because of the cruelty I experienced. But Max didn’t look at me differently at all. He could see strength and beauty even in the places I couldn’t. For all the words and insisting I’m the same, I
always knew, deep down, that I wasn’t. What happened changed me, marked me, and those changes aren’t just superficial; they’re bone-deep. There is no changing that. I could either accept it and move on or keep obsessing about it, looking for a little girl who was no longer there.

  “What’s on your mind?” Max rasps. His hand reaches for me, startling me for a second as it pushes a strand of messy hair out of my face.

  “Just thinking.” I shrug.

  His hand falls onto the mattress between us, and I can’t help but reach for it. With the tip of my finger, I trace the fine lines on his palm.

  “Thank you for everything last night…”

  “You don’t have anything to thank me for, Brook.” The way he looks at me is so intense, I have to look away. I can feel my cheeks flush under his watchful eyes. “I’m serious. I’m there for you if you need somebody to listen.”

  I knew he was serious, but it didn’t help relieve the tightness in my chest. I told Max Sanders my deepest, darkest secrets, and he didn’t scare away. No, he pulled me closer and didn’t let go. He held me and let me cry myself to sleep in his arms.

  Now I don’t know what to do, how to act. Max knows secrets not even Lia, my closest friend, knows and everything feels different.

  His hand clasps around mine, bringing me back to now.

  “Don’t overthink it. Nothing has changed; we’re still the same people we were.”

  Oh, how wrong he is. Everything has changed. Everything. We’ll never be who we used to be. But more importantly, I’ll never be the girl I was. Last night brought back a lot of bad, but opening up to Max helped me heal. Even if just a little bit. Something I hadn’t thought was possible.

  “Everything has changed.” The weight that I was carrying on my shoulders doesn’t seem as heavy as it once was. And when I breathe, there is no pressure. I never imagined that telling just one person and having them believe me could make a difference, but it did. Or maybe it isn’t just any person. Maybe it’s Max himself. Because he’s the only one who can take it all away. One look from his silver eyes and I’m lost in him. One touch makes all the darkness disappear. “And for the first time, I don’t want to just exist, go through the motions. I want to live. I want to have it all, and it feels like I might be able to do it.”

  My lips curl, and it feels almost foreign, but it’s nothing like the full-on smile that spreads on Max’s face. It’s so big and bright, it makes my heart ache with the need to touch him. Maybe if I do, I’ll be able to get part of his light.

  “You think you’re not, but you’re already living. Come on.” He gets out of bed in haste, and as he does, his shirt lifts a little, revealing a patch of his stomach. All tanned skin—who has a tan in the middle of December anyway?—and deep valleys. My mouth goes dry as my eyes zero in on his lower stomach, but it’s covered again before I can blink.

  Max laughs as he offers me his hand. “Eyes up here, Taylor, or I’ll think you’re growing soft on me.”

  I can feel the heat rise to my cheeks, but I lift my gaze to his anyway, trying to play it cool. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “Course you don’t.” His face is straight, but I can see the light twinkle in those stormy depths.

  “Where are you taking me anyway?” I sit up in the bed, looking around. When I see his phone discarded on the nightstand, I check the time. “It’s already eleven?!”

  I can’t believe we practically slept till noon. It’s not something I indulge in often. My days are too short as it is, but I’m not ready to go back to my life yet.

  Max steps closer and takes the phone out of my hand, not even sparing it a glance before throwing it somewhere between the blankets piled at the bottom of the bed. “Get your ass out of bed and you’ll find out.” He throws me a wink before he turns around and starts digging through his closet.

  I look at his retreating back, nervousness and anticipation mixing together. No, I’m definitely not ready to go home yet and have this feeling disappear.

  * * *

  MAX

  “What is all of this?” If I’m not mistaken, there is awe in her voice as she makes a full circle, taking in the basement.

  “This is my space.”

  “I thought the ice rink is your space.”

  “It is.” I shrug. “But to be able to do all that stuff on the ice, I have to do a lot of conditioning in the gym first. Running, weights...”

  Brook finally stops spinning to look at me just as I lift my leg over the ropes and get into the ring.

  “Boxing?” she asks, eyeing the ring that’s taking up a better part of the basement space in my home gym.

  “It helps with endurance.” I laugh uncomfortably at her pointed stare and raised brows. “And it’s my guilty pleasure.”

  I rarely talk about boxing with anybody, and this gym is for me. And, well, Jeanette. Not like I can throw her out. I took some boxing classes when I was younger, but in the last couple of years, I mostly train myself and occasionally spar with Anette. She wanted to take the class too, but our parents didn’t let her. Not like that stopped her. One pleading look my way and I pulled her in the ring, showing her some moves. In my defense, I really do think girls should be able to defend themselves. Especially if that girl is my sister. Turns out she’s not half bad at it.

  Brook laughs softly, shaking her head. “Maybe there is more bad boy to you than meets the eye.”

  Safely inside the ropes, I look down at her. “When you put it like that…”

  “What are we doing here, Max?”

  I extend my hand, and when she doesn’t grab it instantly, I wiggle my fingers. “We’re getting you up here so you can kick my ass.”

  There is a nervous air around Brook. She nibbles at her lower lip as she looks at the ring.

  “I’m not sure I can do it.”

  I can feel her fear and uncertainty, but I won’t let her get out of this that easily. “It feels to me like you’re stalling, Taylor. I didn’t peg you as somebody who gives up without trying.”

  Brook lifts her chin in the air, and I can see the stubbornness in every line of her face. Pushing my hand away, she puts one leg on the edge of the platform, grabs the ropes and gets in. Dusting off her hands on the sides of her legs, she lifts her gaze to me.

  I smile reassuringly. “Let’s see what we’re working with.”

  I walk around her, assessing her stance critically. “If you’re ever a-attacked,” I stumble over the last word. Just thinking of her getting attacked again makes my stomach roll, but that’s the point of all of this. Gritting my teeth, I push my personal feelings back. I can’t let the rage own me, because it won’t help anybody, least of all Brook. Taking a deep breath, I try again. “If you’re ever attacked again, you have to be able to defend yourself.”

  “I watched some self-defense classes online. After...” Brook whispers bitterly, looking down. “Much good that did me.”

  I stop in front of her, my hands gripping her shoulders. I wait for her to meet my eyes before continuing. “Informing yourself is always good, but there is nothing quite like trying the moves out on somebody else. Preferably somebody bigger and stronger than you. Let me do this for you, Brook. Let me help you.” I cup her face, my thumb brushing against her cheekbone. “I wish I could tell you I’ll always be there, but that would be a lie. But this… teaching you how to defend yourself, that I can do.”

  Silence settles over us, and for a while we just stare at each other, not saying anything. Then finally, after what feels like forever, Brook nods. “Show me.”

  And I do.

  “If there is any chance you can avoid confrontation with your attacker, you do it. Keeping to well-lit and public places is always better, but there are no guarantees. If you see there is no avoiding confrontation, you have to keep a cool head. I know that won’t be easy, but if you start to panic, all the knowledge you have will go away. The goal is always to get away from the attacker. Disable him and get away.”


  “Disable him. Get away.” Brook nods her head in acknowledgment. “Got it.”

  I give her a quick smile before I continue. I tap her foot with mine. “Try to keep your feet shoulder-length apart. It’ll help with your balance.” She does as I say, and I correct her a little before continuing. “The idea is to keep the attacker as far away from you as possible. Don’t throw pointless punches. Go for the soft spots—face, throat, gut, and groin. If you throw a punch, throw it like you mean it and then make a run for it.”

  Stopping in front of her, I take her hands in mine and clench her fingers into fists. “Always flex your fingers this way. First the fingers, and then the thumb goes over them, not the other way around. You don’t want to injure your hand. Go for the nose or throat and always remember to punch with your dominant hand.” Letting go of her hands, I go to the side and grab a pair of gloves. “C’mon, try it.”

  Brook frowns, looking at her clenched hands, then at me. “You want me to break your nose?” she asks skeptically.

  This time, I do laugh. “As much as I think you’d enjoy doing that, I’d really appreciate you not breaking anything today.”

  I put on the practice pads and put my hands in front of my chest. Squatting down a little so we’re at the same level, I say, “Come on, let’s see that nasty right hook.”

  Sighing, she gets in the stance. I let her throw a few punches at her own pace. They’re slow and weak at best, but I can see that stubborn gleam in her eyes grow, determination setting in, and as it does, her punches become more forceful. Only then, when I know she’s getting into it, do I start correcting her.

  “Lift your hands higher, elbows to the side. It’ll give you more force behind the punch.” She hits me again and again, this time stronger. “That’s it, put all you have in that punch.” Sweat is glistening on her forehead, baby hair curling around her face. I take a step forward, forcing her to retreat. It throws her off balance for a second, but then she’s back at it, her punches more forceful, even if a little off. But it’s nothing a little practice can’t help with. Her breathing grows labored as she goes at me, punching the mitts with all she’s got. “Now aim higher. You need to knock the fucker out so you can get away.” With every word, she goes at it stronger, putting more force behind her punches, her face a mask of determination. “Go for the…”