The First Rule
Nicole S. Goodin
Contents
The First Rule
Disclaimer
Author’s Note
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Epilogue
Thank You!
Also by Nicole S. Goodin
Acknowledgments
Playlist
About the Author
UPCOMING TITLES
The First Rule
Nicole S. Goodin
The First Rule
Published by Nicole S. Goodin
Digital edition
ISBN:
Copyright 2021 by Nicole S. Goodin
All rights reserved. ©
This ebook is for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this ebook with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each reader. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return it to your favourite retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
The First Rule
First published August 2021
All rights reserved. ©
Cover design by Nicole Goodin
Images purchased from Deposit Photos`
Editing by Spell Bound
Created with Vellum
Disclaimer
This book is a work of fiction. All names, characters, places and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to events, places, or persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
The author acknowledges all song titles, song lyrics, film titles, film characters, trademarked statuses and brands mentioned in this book are the property of, and belong to, their respective owners.
Nicole S. Goodin is in no way affiliated with any of the brands, songs, musicians or artists mentioned in this book.
To everyone who makes someone smile like they’ve never smiled before.
Author’s Note
This book has been written using UK English and may contain euphemisms and slang words that form part of the New Zealand spoken word.
Please remember that the words are not misspelled. They are slang terms and form part of everyday, New Zealand vernacular.
I.e: I’m from New Zealand and sometimes we say weird things down here… please try and be cool about it.
Prologue
Darcy
“I can’t do this anymore.”
Five words you don’t want to hear on your wedding day from the man you thought you’d spend the rest of your life with.
A living nightmare.
Every bride’s worst fear.
My reality.
1
Darcy
“I don’t want to see anyone!” I scream at the locked door of the hotel’s honeymoon suite.
I know that Freya and Steph are just trying to be there for me, I do, but I can’t even look either of them in the eye right now, I’m mortified… humiliated… heartbroken.
It’s been – I check the time on the huge clock on the wall – three hours since the man who got down on one knee and proposed to me ten months ago, shattered my life into a million pieces.
The longest three hours of my life.
I down another shot, just for good measure.
The pounding on the door continues. “Open up, Darcy, right now.”
The voice isn’t any of the ones I’m expecting, and for a moment my heart races in my chest, because that voice is familiar, it’s his voice. I creep towards the door, pressing my palms against the white panels, hope swelling stupidly in my chest.
“It’s Ryan, open up or so help me God, I’ll knock the door down.”
Tears spring to my eyes.
It’s Ryan. Not Jacob.
Ryan – my fiancé’s twin brother. Ex-fiancé I should say, because I know damn well that when Jacob walked down that aisle, away from me, that it wasn’t just an ‘I’m not ready for marriage’ moment, it was a ‘we’re over’ one.
I let my forehead fall forward, so it’s resting on the door. He starts banging on the other side again and my head pounds with each thump.
“Go away, Ryan,” I finally say.
It’s not loud, and it’s not firm, but he hears me. The pounding stops.
“Darcy.” My name is a plea. “Please, Darcy, just let me in.”
“I can’t,” I say, my voice cracking as tears stream down my cheeks for the millionth time.
“Sure you can, just turn the lock, and I’ll do the rest.”
“Just let me get drunk in peace,” I beg.
“Not until you let me in.”
Ryan and Jacob are the two most identical twins I’ve ever seen in my entire life. They’re eerily similar, to the point where their own father is unable to tell them apart the majority of the time – at least that was the case until Ryan went away for a few months about four and a half years ago and came back sporting a rather large collection of piercings and tattoos, a new hair style and a brand new attitude.
But even given the cosmetic differences between the two men, their eyes are still the exact same shade of green, and the thought of having to look into Ryan’s eyes – Jacob’s eyes – right now, scares the shit out of me.
I don’t reply, and the silence rings in my ears.
“I’m not him, Darcy… please, let me in…” He’s silent for a few beats. “I know how to drink...”
I huff out a laugh, but it gets caught in my throat by my unshed tears.
I know he’s not Jacob, but being stubborn is a trait both men possess, so I also know he won’t leave until I open this door.
“I’m not going anywhere until I see you,” he says, his words mirroring my thoughts, “so you may as well just open up. I’ll wait out here as long as it takes.”
I sigh, resigned.
The absolute last thing I want right now is anybody bearing witness to any more of my humiliation, but after today, I don’t expect to ever see anyone from Jacob’s family again, so I guess it doesn’t really matter if Ryan views me in all my hot mess glory. He’s just become somebody that I used to know.
It’s not like Ryan and I were ever close anyway, he and Jacob “grew apart”, that’s what Jacob always said, so if he sees me at my worst possible moment, I doubt that will be the thing keeping me awake at night. I’ve got much bigger problems in the scheme of things.
I reach my hand towards the lock, my fingers lingering on the cool metal for a moment before turning over the bolt to allow him access to the suite.
The door pushes inwards immediately, but slowly… tentatively, as though he’s unsure of exactly what he might walk in on.
“Don’t worry, I didn’t go all The Hangover and smash up the place,” I say humourl
essly. “There’s no tiger in the bathroom.”
“Wouldn’t blame you if you did.”
His voice is calm, soft… understanding. It’s not pitying like I expected it to be, and I couldn’t be more grateful. Pity has never been something I appreciated, and I can’t imagine that changing at this point in time.
I suck in a brave, shallow breath and allow myself to meet the green eyes that I know will be trained on my face.
Ryan and I might not be close, but one thing I’ve learnt about him over the five years since I’ve been with Jacob, is that he always looks directly into my eyes when he talks to me. It’s unnerving and, frankly, a little odd, it’s almost as though he’s willing me to look back into his – to find something there.
Sure enough, those bright eyes are boring holes into mine with all the intensity of a thousand suns. He breathes out harshly and releases me from his hold as he steps across the threshold.
“Why are you here?” I allow myself to look him over, focusing only on the differences between the two men, and ignoring the similarities.
He shuts the door behind himself and rests his back against it, mirroring my position on the door at my side.
“I was thirsty,” he replies dryly, a slight smirk pulling at the corner of his mouth, his lip piercing sticking out slightly with the movement.
Laughter bubbles up my chest and out of my mouth, surprising both of us. I laugh long and hard as he watches me curiously, likely trying to figure out if I’ve lost my mind.
I must be quite the sight, still in my elaborate, insanely expensive white wedding dress, my veil hanging haphazardly from my once flawless up-do.
This dress cost thousands of dollars, the shoes have some ridiculous price tag too, and I’ll be donating them both to a charity store at the earliest possible convenience. I never want to see a shred of evidence of this day ever again.
My laugh dies off at the sobering reminder of the mess my life is in.
“I’m here,” Ryan says softly, sensing the change in my demeanour.
It’s an obvious statement, but one that I didn’t know I needed to hear.
I’m so alone.
I sent away my friends… I don’t have any family anymore, and now I don’t have Jacob either, but for right now at least, I do have Ryan.
I take a real, deep breath for what feels like the first time since my husband-to-be ran out on me.
“Are you okay?” he asks, his tone cautious.
I shake my head. “You’d have more reason to be concerned if I was okay. Don’t you think?”
He nods his head in silent agreement.
We fall into the quiet again, letting it surround us. My thoughts wander back to the moment that I’m still not convinced wasn’t just all some bad dream.
“Did you know he was going to do it?” I ask, already knowing the answer, but unable to force the question to go away unasked either.
“No.” His answer is swift, undoubtedly truthful. I know this not only because he and Jacob haven’t been close enough to be confidants in a long time, but because I know Ryan can’t look me in the eye and lie to me. It’s not in his nature.
He’s not like his brother, who apparently has absolutely no issue lying to my face whatsoever, and has been for god only knows how long at this point.
I dread to think what else he might have lied to me about over the years.
I nod slowly, his answer doing nothing to satisfy my need to know what the hell happened to cause my life to implode around me without notice.
“He’s a prick, Darcy. Don’t try and find any explanation other than that. You could spend the rest of your life trying to find a way to justify what he just did to you, but you won’t find one. There’s no excuse for it. None.”
I nod again.
I can feel the tequila really starting to take hold of my inhibitions. I‘m getting that all over fuzzy feeling. It’s nice, but it’s not enough.
Numb. I need to feel numb, fuzzy isn’t going to cut it right now.
I push off the door, hiking up my dress as I cross the huge room towards the bottle of golden liquid.
“You coming?” I prompt when I hear nothing behind me.
His footsteps follow, the soft pad a stark contrast to the heavy-footed ones of his brother that I’ve grown so used to over the years.
I shake my head. I have to stop doing that. Stop thinking about Jacob. Stop thinking at all. Just stop.
I reach for the bottle and bring it up to my lips, but Ryan’s tattooed arm snakes out, his hand taking the bottle from me before I can make contact with the top.
“I think a glass would be smart.”
“Maybe I don’t want to be smart.”
He lowers the bottle, both of us still holding it as we make eye contact again.
It strikes me then, as the alcohol settles further into my veins, just how striking Ryan really is. Sure, he’s identical to Jacob, but the bad-boy air that surrounds him suits him so well. The piercings, the tattoos, the scruff on his jaw… the bike… it just works.
“Why’d you do it?” The question is out of my mouth before I can stop it.
Tequila courage.
I’ve always wondered what happened all those years ago that caused him to quit the family business and go rogue.
When I met Jacob, and then Ryan shortly after, both men had been clean-cut businessmen. Short back and sides haircut, no facial hair. Ink-free skin. Jacob is still the same now as he was then – right down to the same haircut, but Ryan… Ryan couldn’t be less like the man I first met.
Four and a half years ago:
“Is Ryan coming tonight?”
Jacob doesn’t hear me, he’s got his nose in his tablet, probably looking at the stock market or tallying shares or something else I don’t really understand.
“Jake?” I try again.
He hears me this time, glancing in my direction. “What’s that?”
“Is Ryan coming tonight?” I repeat. “Your dad said he was back in town...”
“Don’t know, don’t care.”
“You should care; he’s your only brother.”
I’d give anything for even another ten minutes with my family, so I’ve never been able to understand the void between Jacob and Ryan.
He shrugs, his attention back on his tablet.
“It’s your dad’s sixtieth birthday.”
He doesn’t even answer me.
I’m about to push Jacob on it again when I see him. Ryan. Only he looks nothing like the Ryan I last saw.
His hair is longer on top, his face covered in masculine scruff, but not only that, he’s covered in tattoos, and there is a glimmer of silver through his lip and eyebrow.
He meets my eyes instantly, as though he knew exactly where to find me, waiting.
Emotion swims in those green pools, and I gasp.
“Guess he came after all,” I hear Jacob sneer from next to me.
“Do what?” Ryan asks, interrupting my daydream.
I shake my head in a feeble attempt to clear my thoughts.
“The tattoos… the piercings.”
My gaze drifts from his eyes to the ring in his left eyebrow. He has metal in both his lip and his brow still, and I’m suddenly curious to know if anything else on his body bears more of the same.
He shrugs a shoulder. “Why not?”
“Just seems like a drastic change.”
He gently pulls the bottle from my grasp and turns away from me, pouring the liquid into two crystal glasses. “I decided I wanted to be my own man, not one half of a pair.”
He mutters his reply quietly, but I hear it.
“Huh,” I muse aloud. I’ve never thought about it like that.
He really was one half of a pair. Identical in virtually every sense of the word. Career, appearance, mannerisms, style, voice… I couldn’t exactly blame him for wanting to carve his own path.
He turns, his arm extended to offer me a glass. I take it from him, and he moves towards the
bed, sitting down on the edge. He’s still wearing his suit pants, but he’s ditched his jacket, and the sleeves of his crisp white shirt are rolled up to reveal his forearms.
“You could have just grown a beard and got a new haircut… you didn’t have to walk away from the future you worked so hard for.”
He raises a dark brow at me. “I didn’t come in here to talk about me.”
“Humour me,” I insist. “Please.”
I’d give just about anything for a distraction from my life – even just for ten minutes.
His eyes rake over me, starting at my messed-up hair and trailing all the way down to my bare feet.
“Did you ever consider that it wasn’t the future I wanted? That I’m nothing like my father or my brother?”
I contemplate that as I cross the room to sit on the other side of the huge bed.
I sip at my drink. I really must be getting drunk, because I don’t even wince as it burns its way down my throat.
“You don’t want your share of the billion-dollar Steele business?”
He studies me, the emotion in his bright eyes unreadable.
“Money doesn’t buy happiness, Darce.”
The First Rule: A Standalone Second Chance Romance Page 1
