Broken Rules: The Elites Of Weis-Jameson Prep Academy Book 2

by Hart, Rebel

  “Should I be?” he barks back. He sharply blows a string of hair from his eyes and crosses his arms. “Is that why you were with him? To make me jealous?” A gentle booming roar rises within every word. I can tell his rage is bubbling up, but he’s trying his best to keep it contained.

  My heart swells with shame as I think of what really happened with Malcolm. I didn’t just flirt with him and think about what things could be like with him. I compared him to Emmett, and that feels like the biggest betrayal of all. He’s already paranoid enough that he’s not what I deserve, and I used his biggest insecurities to compare him to Malcolm.

  Who’s to say Malcolm wouldn’t be just as fucked up behind closed doors? I know that’s not true. Emmett is not my first boyfriend. I know not all guys are like this. There are plenty of them who don’t get physically violent. Plenty who aren’t as fucked up as Emmett. But I feel awful for even thinking about that. And now I am standing here swearing there is nothing going on, when I knew I was flirting with disaster the whole time.

  “I was just having lunch with a friend, Emmett,” I explain sternly. “I’m allowed to do that.”

  “So, you consider Malcolm to be a friend?” He looms over me, pushing his palm against the car on the other side of me, boxing me in with his arms and shoulders.

  “What’s your fucking problem?” I snap finally. “You’re creeping me out. You were the one who got all pissed at me because I expected you to stand up for me against your psychotic ex-girlfriend. Forgive me for wanting a break from all of your mood swings.”

  His nostrils flare as he takes it all in. “A break,” he scoffs. I immediately know I’ve crossed some sort of invisible line. He snaps suddenly, grabbing me by the arm and forcing me away towards his car that’s parked a few spaces down.

  “What the fuck, Emmett!?” I shriek, looking around to see if anyone is nearby to witness this. With no one in sight, he shuffles me to his car and pushes me inside. Instinctively, I look to the backseat expecting to see all the things that tell me I’m in trouble. The same kinds of things that made me try to get away from him when he lured me into his car once before. Rope and gloves. But thankfully it appears to be clear.

  “You’re coming with me,” he demands as he slides into the driver’s seat. “We need to talk.”

  “Going with you where!?” I yell out in shock. “Why can’t we just talk here!? I don’t want to go right you right now, Emmett! I want to go home!”

  “No,” he roars back, continuing to drive despite my obvious fear. “I’m taking you to my hotel room.”

  “What hotel room!?” I shout, feeling completely confused.

  “Things were getting too intense at home with Bernadette being missing. Mom’s been acting weird. I rented a room to get away from it all, and it makes me feel safer,” he explains with a strange calmness, which is somewhat comforting. At least he’s not seeing red to the point of wordlessly forcing me to go along with him whether I like it or not, except he is still forcing me along despite my refusal.

  His hands clench around the steering wheel with wide eyes and flaring nostrils. He is completely on edge with tunnel vision focused on the road ahead. He’s determined to get me away as fast as he can. To carry me off to some place where it’s just him and me, and no one else can get to me.

  “I need you to tell me right now if anything happened between you,” he fumes in desperation. “I don’t just mean if anything was reciprocated. Did he touch you in any way? Make a pass at you?”

  “No! Nothing happened!” I insist, but my tone lacks the certainty he needs.

  “I just can’t stand the thought of it.” The veins and muscles in his neck strain and his voice cracks with a guttural roar.

  “Fine, you don’t have to,” I continue, shrugging pensively. “I just told you nothing happened. So just let it go! Better yet, take me back to my car so I can go home!”

  “Nothing happened, but you suddenly don’t want to be with me?” he suggests defeatedly.

  “You’re being ridiculous!” I shout back. I struggle for a moment to find the right words. “What happened to everything you were saying earlier? You think I’m supposed to be so certain that this thing between us is so solid and important, enough not to let Vivian get to me, but you’re completely unhinged just a few hours later over the exact same thing. You’re a hypocrite.”

  “It’s not the same.” He shakes his head. “Vivian and Malcolm are two totally different animals.”

  “Agreed!” I shout bitterly. “Malcolm is actually nice and was just trying to be my friend. Vivian is an evil, conniving bitch who is intentionally trying to stir things up between us.”

  “You don’t know Malcolm the way I do,” he replies grimly. “Nothing about him is nice. He’s doing everything you think Vivian is doing and you can’t even see it.”

  I look over to him shifting madly in his seat as he speeds along. The engine revs every time he raises his voice, like he is completely out of control. I just keep thinking this isn’t good. I have just taken him back into my life and given this thing a chance, and so far it’s been nothing but jealous shouting matches.

  And I hate the way I’m getting off on it. It’s like what he said in my room yesterday; it’s the rush. The thrill of being together. It’s intoxicating. Even now, as I’m furious and watching him spiral out of control, I want him more than ever. I would fight harder to get him to take me home, but I want to go with him to his hotel room. Because I know what will inevitably happen when we get there.

  I inhale sharply in anticipation, but I try to maintain my scowl. I don’t want to let him off the hook so easily. He should think I’m still pissed. That thought scares me. Now I’m being just as calculating and manipulative as Vivian. I really am turning into her. I feel a sudden urge to fling open the car door and take off running. I can’t let myself turn into her. I have to be better than that.

  Once again, Malcolm’s kind, smiling eyes creep into my brain. Maybe he’s the key to making sure I stay far away from the danger of the new Elites, which just might very well include me if things keep going this way. I don’t care who my father is, I don’t want to be like those people.

  “Are you thinking about him?” Emmett asks suddenly.

  “Who?” I blurt defensively, playing dumb. He glares over at me, not falling for it. My gaze darts around, trying to avoid his questioning stare. “No, I wasn’t thinking about him. I was thinking about how messed up all of this is. This isn’t going to work.”

  “Don’t say that!” he roars. “Why are so quick to let go of this!?”

  “I’m obviously not,” I scowl. “I’m in the fucking car with you, aren’t I? Not like you gave me much of a choice.”

  I look outside the window at the green trees sprinkled in between the turning golden and red leaves. Gushes of wind keep creating tornadoes of them, whirling off into the air with a hiss that feels as sudden and urgent as everything happening with Emmett and me. I brace myself against the seat and try to catch my breath, but I am too hyped up on emotion.

  Maybe this rush we both feel isn’t worth it. Nothing about it is healthy. And I can’t help but think back to my mom and biological dad, and wonder if this is what things were like for them.

  I shrink in my seat, growing quiet. I feel a headache coming on, and my body feels heavy from the tightness in my chest. My stomach is sinking, and I just wish we could find our way back to the way things felt in my bedroom last night. I want to run back to that place, and I can only hope that once we get to the hotel, we can find the same kind of retreat.

  “I don’t know what it is you want to talk about,” I protest. “But I don’t want to do this right now. Not when you’re pissed like this. I just want to go home.”

  The sound of my own pleas is surreal and bring back way too many memories of the other times he has held me against my will. I can’t hold back the tears and hate how vulnerable they make me feel all over again. I burst into sobs against my hands, trying to hide my f
ace.

  “Why are you so upset!?” he shouts defensively. “I’m not going to hurt you! I just need to talk to you!”

  “Bullshit!” I scream, my voice cracked from the persistent crying. “You could have talked to me back there! You just need to feel in control of me and you’re losing your temper…only this time you don’t have your dad to blame.”

  I cry even harder as the words spill out, realizing he has no excuse for his behavior now. At least none of the old ones he’s tried to fall back on in the past. I slide down into my seat from the disappointment of accepting that this is just how Emmett is, whether his father is in the picture or not. Any hope I had of Emmett redeeming himself or proving that he’s a kind and trustworthy person feels like it’s slipping through my fingers.

  A painful reality sets in. I may have to leave Emmett behind. As much as I love him, this may be too much for me. I don’t know if I can martyr myself for him. I feel like I have lost all of myself to him. And I don’t know if I am strong enough to walk away from him, but part of me thinks that I should. But it feels like a betrayal to even think it. I promised him I wouldn’t. I told him he would be safe with me, that I could never hurt him. Why did I make such big promises? I made them because I wanted them to be true. I thought if I said them out loud that they would be. That I could will it into being no matter what, because I wanted it so bad. But as he seethes in the corner, I don’t know if I can stay with him.

  I can walk away from all of this right now. And pretend that I don’t know that he would go to pieces the moment that I did. And my heart may go cold the moment I do, but maybe one day I would find someone else to revive it. But I can’t imagine anyone ever making me feel the way he does. It’s so cliché. Everyone feels this way about their first love, right?

  “Malcolm just left school a few minutes ago,” he says in a deep booming voice. “Were you planning to meet him after practice?”

  “You’re fucking paranoid!” I laugh with a shriek. “I was on my way home! And what do you mean he just left a few minutes ago? Were you stalking him?”

  “No, I wasn’t stalking him,” he gapes defensively. “I was only trying to make sure you were safe.”

  “Safe from what? Malcolm has never hurt me in anyway whatsoever, which is more than I can say for…” I stop myself but it’s too late. We both know exactly how that sentence ends as it hangs heavy between us.

  Every muscle in his neck tightens and bulges as his hands ring around the steering wheel, making the leather creak. His foot slams to the gas as the engine revs in a loud whirring sound, sending us speeding off down the road.

  “Slow down!” I demand, but he ignores me. “If you were so worried about Malcolm and I talking, why didn’t you just come over and talk to us like a normal person!? You had no problem hanging all over me for everyone else to see earlier in the day.”

  “And yet that still didn’t stop you from running off with him,” he scoffs. “I saw the way you two were looking at each other.”

  “This is ridiculous, Emmett.” I shake my head, feeling completely flustered. “We weren’t looking at each other in any way other than friends having a nice conversation.”

  “Nice!?” he bellows.

  I feel a small tinge of guilt knowing that the conversation did seem to get a little flirtatious, but I can’t let that show. I’m too afraid of how Emmett will lose it if I let on that he could actually have something to worry about with Malcolm.

  “You’re being ridiculous! Why are you making me go off with you like this!? We could have had this talk back in the parking lot.” I grip my seatbelt as the car drives even faster down the winding roads leading to the edge of town.

  I can’t stop the memories of our car crash from flooding my brain. I try to focus on my breathing and calm down. We kissed in the hospital after that. Maybe we can skip the crash this time and go straight to the kissing part, but not if he doesn’t slow down.

  “I just…I need…” he stammers through his words, which only makes him angrier. “I just need to be away with you somewhere for a minute.”

  “You just need to feel in control of me,” I suggest once again, feeling even more confident in my conclusion. “You’re overreacting.”

  He’s silent the rest of the way until the car finally skids around a twitching neon sign for a run-down motel outside town. I look out my window as we park, noting the “rent by the hour” sign and the dirty, painted brick building. The windows to the rooms are cloudy and dark with broken blinds.

  “I would have expected you to be staying somewhere nicer,” I admonish as Emmett storms over to my car door to let me out, ensuring I don’t try to run off.

  “I want to lay low until I know exactly what happened with Bernadette,” he explains as he ushers me to the front door of his room. “I could be in danger, too, for all I know.”

  As we step inside, I feel oddly calm. I don’t know if I am not afraid because I see Emmett as less of a threat now, even though he didn’t give me much of a choice in coming here with him, or if I am less afraid because I have become so used to this kind of treatment from him.

  I want to remind him that this is exactly why I wanted space from him the first place. Because I deserve better than this. I can’t help but wonder if Malcolm would ever do anything like this. Sure, he messaged me to meet him alone and took me to meet with his father inconspicuously, but even then, he never made me feel afraid.

  Emmett slides several different locks into place once we are inside the room. It’s filled with mismatched furniture and peeling wallpaper that reveals moldy, stained walls. The room is dimly lit behind the musty curtains, lightened in color from years of sunlight.

  I collapse onto the edge of the squeaky bed, waiting to see what he’ll do next as a faucet drips loudly in the bathroom. There are angry voices and crying children echoing through the thin walls with loud, obnoxious dogs barking in the parking lot. It smells like piss and stale cigarette smoke.

  “It’s disgusting in here,” I comment, noting the mouse droppings lining the closet floor.

  “It’s cheap,” he states plainly. “And far enough away from Jameson that I don’t have to worry about someone telling the wrong people where I’ve checked in.”

  “So…still no word from your sister?” I ask lightly, pursing my lips to the side as I grasp for any change of subject. I secretly wonder if he’s being just as paranoid about his sister and someone being after him as he is with his jealousy.

  “You don’t think I have a right to be upset about Malcolm!?” he barks back, ignoring my question.

  “Not if I didn’t have a right to be upset about you and Vivian,” I reply bitterly.

  “So, you were just trying to get back at me?” He shakes his head as he continues manically pacing.

  “No!” I groan, rolling my hands through my hair in frustration. “I wasn’t trying to do anything, Emmett! You humiliated me in front of Vivian and Lily so I took a walk! When I sat down, Malcolm came up and offered me some food. I left my lunch when I ran after you, remember? So, I accepted. We talked while we ate. That’s it!”

  It’s exhausting to have to defend myself and watch him act this way, but I feel a slight flutter of satisfaction in my chest at seeing him so jealous. I hadn’t done it on purpose, but after letting Vivian treat me that way earlier, it’s hard not to feel like he got what was coming to him.

  His dark brown eyes are glinting with pain and confusion as sweat beads across his forehead. So many things are bubbling up under the surface, and I am left waiting at his mercy, wondering when and how it will all come out. Emmett releases things in slow, furious waves, each completely unpredictable. He lets it all bubble up until it crashes out, usually crashing out onto me.

  I wonder what he and Vivian were like alone when they were together. Could she get to him this way? Did he care enough about her to be this jealous? She has certainly always been jealous of me. I technically stole him away from her in a weird way. Do I deserve to be torment
ed by her now? Maybe I am just getting what was coming to me, the way Emmett is now with his feelings towards Malcolm.

  I should be angry with Emmett for forcing me to come here like this, but I keep ending up only feeling angry with myself. I’m the one who can’t help but fall for this whole fucked up relationship instead of going after a nice, normal boy who is every bit as rich and good-looking. Even now as I watch Emmett fuming in a furious pace across his motel room floor, I can’t bring myself to just get up and walk away.

  6

  Chapter Six

  There is something honest about Emmett being in this motel room. A dirty, cracked hole-in-the-wall seems fitting—more so than the polished manor where his family lives. I have always hated how deceptively beautiful everyone and everything in Jameson is. I lay in my bed at home and stare at my white ceiling, thinking that’s fitting, too. I’m innocent. Less so now than I was before, but I can never fully know what it was like to grow up the way he did.

  Suddenly, Emmett stops dead in his tracks and turns to me with an almost frightening sternness. “I can’t lose you to him,” he bellows, stepping towards my perch on the edge of the bed. “You’re mine, Ophelia,” he offers more softly.

  His eyes spark with a tenderness that lures me in. He kneels down in front of me, pressing his head to my chest, running his hands across my thighs. I feel myself melting into his desire. His warm, soft hand engulfs my cheek and there’s so much kinetic energy flowing through it that I feel like I could drown in it.

  “This is so fucked up, Emmett,” I whisper, closing my eyes against his skin.

  “I know I’m not the best, Ophelia,” he says softly. “But we’ve come too far together. I have too much of myself invested in you. I can’t lose you.”

  I find myself thinking I could never hate Emmett, but then I have to remember who he was before. And now I am stuck in this haze…trying to save him from himself. As long as he keeps fighting for me, I know I can never leave. No matter how badly I want to.