Broken Rules: A Rescuer Romance

by Gunn, Jenna

  As soon as I round the corner out of her sight, I ditch the cotton candy in the trash can. “Siri, call Anya.”

  Her phone goes straight to voicemail.

  “Hey, I think I might know where Cameron was when he called. It’s a place called the Brews and Chews, basically a junk food and beer shop on the boardwalk. I’m going to have to wait around here ‘til nighttime to see if Cam or someone who knows him shows up. Apparently there’s quite the locals scene down here at night. Call me when you get off.”

  Glancing around, I try to figure out what I’m going to do until dark. That’s when my eyes land on a shop that rents surfboards. The waves look decent. Sounds like an excellent way to kill some time.

  The girl behind the counter gives me a key to a locker that comes free when you rent a board. I drop in my shoes, t-shirt, phone, and the bag of chocolates.

  The sand is warm as I walk across the beach. The waves are just right. Shoulder high. The water is glassy. There’s hardly a breath of wind.

  Watching the surfers makes me think of Anya. She’s teaching a lesson right now.

  Does Anya know I love surfing too?

  I’ve seen her catching waves with Bishop plenty of times. They meet up for early morning, after work, and day-off surf sessions.

  She doesn’t know I’ve focused my binoculars on her more than once from the lifeguard stations.

  Her tiny hour-glass figure, striking red hair, and infectious smile always made her stand out. There is no question why Bishop enjoyed her company. I’m sure he likes the view. And probably her witty humor, too.

  He’s never talked about her though. So I always wondered.

  Over the last two years, Bishop has made a million fucking comments about never sleeping with a woman again. I figured it was just him diverting attention. But after hearing Anya’s side…Maybe I’m wrong.

  Any possibility of him hooking up with her kept me far away.

  The last thing I want to do is get in a competition for a woman’s attention with one of my brothers.

  I’d never win that contest. But when she said they were just friends…

  That’s when I moved on it. Even if I knew the chances of her liking someone like me were slim.

  But, hey, you only live once, right?

  I paddle into the surf with Bishop on my mind. I need to have that convo soon. But I have no clue what to say. “Hey, remember that night I got arrested? Well, I was with your bud, Anya. And I’ve pretty much been at her house ever since…”

  Um, no.

  He’s gonna be a raging beast no matter what I tell him.

  No use worrying about it now. I’ll deal with it when the time comes.

  The waves are too good to be wasted on my brother.

  My arms are pleasantly tired when I catch my last wave. The sun hovers just above the horizon. I stand on the beach and drip dry, watching the colors turn fiery orange.

  When I turn toward the boardwalk, I can tell the crowd is already changing. Tourist types were replaced with a mix of homeless looking men and women and the rather-be-out-after-dark crowd.

  It feels like the odds of catching Cameron around have increased significantly.

  I return the board and pull my belongings from the locker. My phone has lots of notifications. “Read text messages.” I say into the speaker.

  “From Bryce: Where are you? No one has seen you in days. We’re worried about you.” The phone then asks, “Would you like to reply to this message?”

  I reply, “No.”

  The electronic voice continues. “From Anya: Brandon, where are you? I’m worried. I left you a voicemail an hour ago.” She asks again, “Would you like to reply to this message?”

  “Yes. Send a text message to Anya. I just got out of the water. I’ll call you now.”

  Closing the text app, I open the phone app and cue up her voicemail.

  Her tone sounds hopeful, “That’s such good news. I’m getting in the car; I’ll be in Ocean Beach in an hour. Please let me know where to meet you.”

  Damn. I don’t really want her down here. The crowd is too rough for her.

  I press the home button, “Call Anya.”

  After two rings, she answers. The sound of the radio is playing in the background. “Hey pretty girl, tell me you haven’t left Lynn’s Cove yet.”

  “Hi. I have. I’m almost to Ocean Beach. Why?”

  I take a breath. “I was going to tell you not to come.”

  “Did you find him?”

  “No, but I don’t think you should come down here. Looks like it’s not a great place to wander around at night.”

  “But you’re going to stay?” The signal light in her car clicks off in the background. She’s off the highway now, probably working her way toward the boardwalk.

  “I am. I think we might be onto something here.”

  “Great. Maybe we’ll find him.”

  “Anya, would you go back home if I asked you to?”

  She huffs, “No. I wouldn’t.”

  That’s what I figured. “I’ll send you a pin. Let me know when you park and I’ll walk to meet you. Don’t get out of the car without me.”

  “Brandon, I’m fine. I’ve lived in this area all my life.”

  “Humor me, please. I just want to know you’re safe.”

  After a few seconds she sighs, “Oh alright.”

  We’re going to have to have a talk. She can’t be getting any ideas about running around looking for her brother by herself.

  Ten minutes later, I’m walking toward her car. She’s backing it into a forty-five degree street parking spot. It was a lucky find.

  When she sees me, she smiles and raises her hand.

  Something inside me squeezes. What has happened to me? A mere smile and toss of a hand turns me inside out. I’m toast.

  Anya locks the car, tucks the key in her jeans pocket and bounces toward me. My heart starts to gallop when she throws her arms around me. “I was worried when I didn’t hear from you.”

  “I’m fine. I just went surfing to kill some time.”

  She grins up at me. “I’m jealous. Wait a minute, you went surfing?”

  I nod, “And it was good.”

  “I didn’t realize you surf. I mean it makes sense, I think all of your brothers do, right?”

  “Yeah, we grew up as water bugs. I just don’t always surf in Lynn’s Cove. I’ve seen you out in the water before, but you weren’t paying any attention to me.”

  Her brows crease together. “Oh. Gosh. I’m sorry.”

  I kiss her forehead. “Don’t be. But now that I’ve got a lot of free time, we should paddle out together. I’ll show you my favorite break.”

  She loops her arm in my elbow as we walk. “Free time, what’s that. I’m actually interviewing for a second job tomorrow.”

  An icy feeling courses through my lungs. I don’t like that idea one bit because I want her free time for me. Trying to find my footing, I wait a beat before I respond. “What kind of second job?”

  “Waiting tables, greeting guests.”

  We turn the corner onto the boardwalk. It’s a mass of people, mostly seedy as hell looking.

  She laughs, “Wow, it’s busy here. I had no idea.”

  A man stops in his tracks and spins around, watching Anya as we walk by. The tattoo on the dude’s throat wraps up and around his temples. The flames and skulls are in vivid black and red ink.

  I give him a death glare.

  “Stick with me. Okay?”

  11

  The boardwalk is surprisingly sketchy tonight. And that guy—creepy as hell—with all the skulls and flames on his neck.

  I move closer to Brandon, thankful I’m not here by myself. “I see what you mean now. Is there some kind of freak festival going on here?”

  “I’m not sure. This might be the normal night crowd.”

  He leads us as we weave our way toward the Brew and Chew. “How about we grab some street food, maybe it will help us blend in while w
e wait and watch. You like Greek? I saw a Gyro place.”

  “That sounds delicious.”

  “I’ve got desert.” He passes me a small white paper bag.

  I peek inside as we walk. Chocolates “Are these for me?”

  He laughs, replies, “Us.”

  The word suddenly feels important. It feels good to hear the word us.

  Brandon orders dinner and we take our Gyros to a spot where we can sit on the seawall. He boosts me up onto the four foot high concrete barrier.

  We have a good vantage point to watch the people… and dogs. Turns out people here like to dye their dogs weird colors. After a turquoise poodle passes, I look at Brandon with wide eyes. “If I had a dog, I’d never do that.”

  “Me either. Do you like dogs?”

  “I love them. Not that I’ve ever had one. Our lifestyle hasn’t really been the best for that.”

  He suddenly says. “We should get a dog.”

  I stop chewing mid bite.

  He stutters, “I- I mean if we get married one day, we could get a dog.”

  I set my sandwich down. “Married one day…” Married, that’s one thing I’ve never allowed myself to think of.

  Brandon surprises me when he reaches out and touches my cheek. “You make my mind do all kinds of crazy things.” he smiles, “Hell, and my body too.”

  I suddenly flush hot, remembering the way his mouth felt on me. He makes my body do all kinds of crazy things too.

  “I don’t know if you look scared or turned on.”

  I raise my brows. “Both...”

  He grins, “Don’t get freaked out, okay? But I like you.”

  I swallow. “I like you too.”

  Too much. Too soon.

  He tugs on a curl, “Okay, now that that’s settled. We’ll talk about the whole dog thing another time.”

  I pretend to stare at my Gyro while I try to regain my balance. When I’m with Brandon, I feel like I’m caught in a tornado. Things happen so fast I have no idea which way is up.

  Brandon drops his Gyro onto the seawall suddenly. “That’s him, isn’t it? Over by the Brew and Chew, talking to the girl with purple hair.”

  It takes a few seconds for my eyes to find the storefront. Then I see the unmistakable head of red-blonde hair that belongs to my brother.

  I’m leaping off the seawall and landing on the sidewalk in the next instant. The thud of Brandon’s feet hitting the concrete follows, and I know he’s running behind me.

  The crowd is thick, and I have to push my way through. But when I reach the girl, Cameron is nowhere in sight. I spin around. “Where did he go?”

  The girl’s brows crease together, “Who?” Then she sees Brandon. “Oh, I know who you’re looking for. He was just here.”

  “Where is he,” demands Brandon.

  She curls her lips in, shrugs her shoulders.

  “I think you’re lying,” I snap.

  The girl goes back to twirling a cardboard stick around in the cotton candy machine. “I can’t help ya.”

  I growl. “Thanks a lot. His life is in danger. You might be the reason he gets killed.”

  Her hand stops suddenly, and she looks up at me. Her color pales. “He’s parked two blocks that way at the corner of Seamist and Abelone.”

  “Parked? What’s he driving?”

  “My car, a white Honda civic.”

  Brandon takes the lead this time, my hand firmly gripped in his. He ploughs through the crowd shouting, “Move it. Get out of the way!”

  Finally, we catch a break and the sidewalk in front of us opens up. It’s all I can do to keep my feet under me as Brandon’s legs eat up the pavement.

  “There it is!” He barks.

  “Oh! He’s pulling out, coming this way.”

  Brandon drops my hand and leaps into the street. Waves his arms, as the car approaches.

  The car slows for a second, then suddenly weaves around Brandon and accelerates. Did Cameron see me?

  Would he really look at me and keep driving?

  “Come on, my truck is close.” I take off running after Brandon. Fire eats at my lungs, my legs cramp. I’m a surfer, not a runner.

  We launch ourselves into Brandon’s Ford. He guns the engine and pulls out in front of a line of cars. Car horns start blaring. I can see the white Honda up ahead, weaving in and out of lanes.

  Traffic is thick, and the night suddenly makes it hard to tell which set of taillights are his. Worry eats at me. “It’s getting tough to keep him in sight.”

  Everything about Brandon is focused. He has one task on his mind.

  After a few turns, we enter one of the roughest neighborhoods I’ve ever seen in San Diego. People are hanging out on the street corners. Everything looks run down. Graffiti marks the buildings, the trash cans, the houses.

  Brandon continues to drive as fast as he can with the traffic that’s coursing in and out of the streets.

  Suddenly we are stopping and Brandon whips into a street parking spot. “What’s going on?”

  “He parked back there. I think I know which house he went to. You promise me you will not get out of this truck. And you will leave at the first sign of trouble.”

  “Wait, you can’t just walk around here.”

  “I’ll be fine. You lock the door. Leave if you see anyone coming.”

  “Br—”

  He jumps out. The door shuts. I climb into the driver’s seat and click the lock button.

  My legs tremble with nerves as I wait, I try to see in the mirrors, but Brandon quickly disappears into the darkness.

  “Come on. This is a terrible idea. Come on.”

  After what feels like forever, I see Brandon jogging back toward the truck. I slide back into the passenger seat and unlock his door.

  “I think I know which house. It was dark, and he didn’t answer the door. I’m not into committing a break in, so, we’ll have to try another tactic.”

  My insides are shivering. “Thank god you’re back.”

  He glances at me. “I’m fine.”

  “I…”

  “We made some progress.” He grabs my hand. “Your fingers feel like ice.”

  “My blood feels like ice.”

  He kisses my fingertips. “What do you say we go somewhere for dinner since we didn’t get to finish our Gyros? I know a good Italian place in Little Italy.”

  My mouth falls open. “Is all you think about food?”

  He grins. “And sex.”

  “I mean, we were just in a high-speed chase and you’re calm as can be and ready to eat dinner—in a restaurant?”

  “Sure,” He chirps.

  “I don’t get men.”

  “We’re easy.”

  Pfft. “Not in my book.”

  He laughs. “I can tell you more over dinner.”

  I shake my head.

  * * *

  After the second dinner, I follow Brandon’s truck to my house. He insists on staying again. I’m glad. Especially when I see the note taped to my door. Not again. Dread floods my body. I can’t even bring myself to look at it.

  Brandon peels the tape off, flips the note open. He stares at it for a few seconds. That’s when I remember that reading is hard for him.

  We haven’t talked about it yet, so I have no clue what his dyslexia means for him. I angle around and peer down at the note on his hands. I read the handwritten words out loud, “Cameron owes Carlos a substantial amount of money. We know he’s around. Tell him that if he doesn’t pay up soon, things will get really ugly. Worse than he can imagine. People who care about him will feel the pain.”

  My knees feel weak. I press my hand against the stucco wall beside the door. “I’m scared.”

  Brandon crumples the paper up, loops his arm around me. Presses a kiss to the top of my head. “Come on. We’re going to fix this. One way or another. We made good progress tonight. Don’t let this scare you. I’m here with you. Your brother is sketched out after having me chase him, so he’s probably prett
y safe in hiding.”

  “I can’t shake the feeling I’m being watched.”

  Brandon glances around. “Let them watch. I want him to know I’m here.”

  “I feel it when I’m away from home too.”

  “I can get the lifeguards to keep an eye on you when you are at the beach. Your boss will watch out when you’re at the shop. I’m here at night.”

  He pulls a key out of his pocket and unlocks the door. “I found the spare key in the kitchen drawer, by the way. That’s how I locked up when I left this morning. Oh, I forgot to tell you, I fixed the faucet. Good as new.” He grins at me like nothing at all in the world is wrong.

  I’m all off kilter when I follow him around in the house. He sings while he showers. I brush my teeth, thinking about what he looks like all soaped up behind the shower curtain. But I don’t peek.

  Maybe I should, but shyness suddenly grips me.

  Shy he is not. The man struts around in a towel, then he climbs into the bed, naked, like he owns it.

  I puzzle over what’s happening between us as I shampoo my hair and let the hot water seep into my tired muscles.

  Finally, half an hour later, I walk into the bedroom, wrapped in my night-time uniform of robe and towel.

  It’s not sexy. Which only adds to the weirdness I feel about the fact that we might have sex for the first time tonight.

  Not that I’m worried about the sex.

  God, I want it. I know it’s going to be freaking amazing.

  If I can just get over this awkward spot we’re in.

  It’s just sort of unceremonious to chase my missing brother. Then to come home and putter around like a married couple.

  Yeah, something about this seems all wrong for our first time.

  I want a do-over.

  Can we repeat the whole get-it-on in the kitchen thing?

  How do you get a moment like that back?

  Brandon’s eyes follow me. His mouth is quirked up just enough to make him look cocky. “I’d pay a thousand dollars for your thoughts right now.”

  I groan, “No you wouldn’t. They’re a mess.”

  “Are you thinking about sex?”

  My eyes cut to him, “And a million other things.”

  “You look adorable.”