Rule Breaker (New Orleans Bourdons Book 1)

by Lisa B. Kamps

  Jacqui drained the contents of her glass then pushed up from the overstuffed chair she'd been lounging in. She moved toward me and from the corner of my eye, I saw her hand reach out. I didn't react at all, thinking she was just going to grab my drink since I hadn't bothered to do more than take one tiny sip since she'd mixed it for me. But instead of reaching for my glass, her hand darted out and snagged my phone.

  "Hey!" I sat up and made a grab for it but she was already halfway across the living room—not that her living room was very big. She leaned one shoulder against the wall, silently daring me to come after it. I thought about it, for maybe three seconds, then leaned back in defeat. The phone was locked so it wasn't like she could actually do anything.

  At least, that's what I thought until her long fingers tapped the screen. I vaulted to my feet, nearly tripping over the low coffee table in my hurry to reach her. She raised the phone over her head, well out of my reach, and grinned down at me.

  "You need to answer him."

  "And I can't. You know that. And you know why."

  She tilted the phone toward her—still out of my reach—and scrolled through the text messages. Her grin faded, replaced by a serious determination I wasn't use to seeing from her. "Judging from all these messages, cher, I think your daddy's long reach of retribution has already found its mark."

  "No." I shook my head and repeated the word, louder this time. "No. He couldn't have. There was no reason to, not when I agreed to his stupid little threat."

  "Something tells me it was more than a threat, cher." She reached for my hand and turned it palm up before slapping the phone into it. "Now text him back."

  My fingers curled around the phone as indecision warred inside me. I wanted to. I wanted to do more than text Nathan—I wanted to talk to him. Hear his voice in my ear. Feel his arms close around me. But how could I do any of those things with my father's threat hanging over my head? And how could I bear to hear the anger and loathing in Nathan's voice if Jacqui was right and my father had already carried out his threat?

  How could I bear knowing that I was the one responsible for jeopardizing Nathan's career?

  I blinked against the film of tears burning my eyes and looked at Jacqui. "I can't."

  Instead of the sympathy I expected to see in her gaze, I was rewarded with a flash of impatient anger. "Yes, you can. It's time to stop acting like a put-upon diva and pull up your big girl panties."

  Jacqui's words hit me with the force of a sharp slap and I took a quick step back as a wave of emotions washed over me, each vying for the top spot. Hurt. Surprise. Anger. Indignation. Betrayal.

  Anger won out and I straightened my shoulders then stepped closer. "I am not a diva."

  "Addy, you know I love you like a sister but even you have to admit you have your moments." Jacqui waved one hand in the air, a small smile playing on her mouth. "Not that there's anything wrong with being a diva. We all have an inner one and I'm a firm believer in owning it."

  "I'm not—"

  "Embrace it, cher. But you still need to pull up those big girl panties."

  The anger vanished between one breath and the next, replaced by confusion. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

  Jacqui's gaze softened as she watched me. Another smile teased the corners of her mouth and she reached out to push a strand of hair from my face before stepping back. "You finally stood up to your daddy, cher. You fought for something you wanted."

  "But I didn't. I gave in, just like I always do."

  "No, Addy. It's not giving in when you're bullied into making a choice because of a threat hanging over your head. You could have agreed then stayed home and kept living a lie but you didn't. You left. Now you just need to decide if you fight to move forward, or if you give in and go back."

  "Is that what you did? Fight to move forward?"

  Shadows passed through Jacqui's eyes and I saw regret and sorrow in their depths before her gaze slid from my mine. "Not right away, no. I gave in to the bullies and wasted too many years of my life living a lie. I don't want you to make the same mistakes I did."

  I wanted to ask her what those mistakes were but the words died in my throat. It wasn't my business and if Jacqui wanted me to know, she'd tell me. I knew she had secrets, probably more secrets than even I could guess at, but they were hers to share or to keep, however she saw fit.

  I stared down at my phone then looked back at Jacqui, not bothering to hide my misery. "What if my father follows through with his threat? What if Nathan's career is already ruined because of me? He'd hate me if he ever found out and I don't think I could bear that."

  "I think he might already know, cher. And from the tone of those text messages, I'm guessing hate isn't anywhere close to what he's feeling."

  "Not now, maybe. But later—"

  "You need to at least answer him, Addy."

  I nodded, a part of me knowing she was right. But another part—a much larger part—balked at the idea. What if I sent him a text and he didn't respond? What if I called and the only thing I heard in his voice was hatred or disdain?

  Or worse yet, what if he was waiting for me to respond and simply gave up, thinking I was the one who didn't want to talk to him?

  Irritation flared inside me—at myself, my indecision, my inability to fight for what I wanted. Jacqui had the right idea but she was wrong about one detail: I had to put my big girl panties on before I could pull them up.

  With my decision made—and the hope that I wasn't making a mistake burning in my chest—I swiped my thumb across the phone's screen to wake it up. It chirped almost immediately, the sound and the accompanying vibration startling me because it shouldn't be doing anything.

  The noise wasn't from anything I did, though—it was from an incoming call. A call, not a text.

  From Nathan.

  My heart slammed into my chest as I stared at the screen, momentarily stunned into inaction. I knew I should answer it—I wanted to answer it—but I was frozen in place, unable to do much more than suck in a hasty breath that caught in my throat and made me cough.

  "Oh, for shit's sake. Girl, what am I going to do with you?" Jacqui lifted the phone from my outstretched hand, swiped one finger across the screen, then raised it to her ear. "You have thirty seconds to convince me I should give the phone to Addy before I hang up and erase your number."

  "Jacqui!" I reached for the phone but she turned to the side, blocking me with her shoulder.

  "Yes, she's fine." Jacqui glanced over her shoulder and studied me with a small frown. "Well, mostly fine. Nothing that can't be fixed by the right man."

  My eyes widened in shock and surprise, heat filling my face at her suggestive words. I stomped my bare foot against the floor and held my hand out in silent demand. Jacqui, of course, completely ignored me.

  "Hmmm. Okay, I might believe that. But I'm not totally convinced. Keep talking."

  I folded my arms in front of me, my fingers digging into flesh in wary impatience as I watched Jacqui. Her brows lowered in a small frown and a second later her mouth pursed and I couldn't tell if that was a good thing or not. Her gaze darted to mine then just as quickly moved away.

  "And why should I believe that?"

  "Jacqui!" Her name came out as a low hiss and she acted like she hadn't even heard it. And maybe she hadn't because she was completely focused on whatever Nathan was saying.

  She nodded and shifted the phone from one ear to the next then walked toward the open kitchen of the apartment. I started to follow but she shook her head, motioning for me to stay where I was with a quick wave of her hand.

  I was so stunned that I actually stood there, unmoving, for a full minute before shaking some sense into myself. By the time I reached Jacqui, she was giving him her address and disconnecting the call.

  "You didn't let me talk to him!"

  "You can talk to him soon enough. He's on his way over."

  "What? He's coming here now? Why?"

  "Because I told him if
he wanted to see you, he needed to come here because I'm certainly not letting you walk to his place at this time of night, alone."

  "But what does he want? Did he say? Was he angry? Is he in trouble at all? What about—"

  "Easy, cher. You can find out for yourself as soon as he gets here."

  "He didn't sound angry?"

  Jacqui tilted her head and lifted one brow in an expression that silently asked if I had lost my mind. "Would I let him come here if I thought he was angry?"

  "No. But what about—"

  "Cher, he'll be here in twenty minutes at the most, sooner if he runs and I have a feeling he might do just that." She glanced at the clock on the microwave then pointed a deliberate finger at me, sweeping it from the top of my hair to the tips of my bare feet. "Are you sure you want to answer the door looking like you're coming off a five-day bender?"

  I glanced down at the oversized t-shirt and tattered yoga pants I'd been wearing since this morning, then looked back at Jacqui. She folded her arms in front of her and raised both brows, waiting for my answer.

  I spun on my heel without saying a word, Jacqui's low laugh following me as I hurried to the bathroom.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Nathan

  One of the few things about coming to New Orleans that I had looked forward to was the constant revelry. The partying. The good times. The certainty that there would never be a lack of women to keep me company. I'd latched onto that knowledge and held it close, using it to soothe my battered ego when I'd been told where I was going.

  The allure of that constant revelry had already worn thin but it had never annoyed me, not like it did right now. I rushed through the careless crowds on Bourbon Street without paying attention to who I was bumping into or what I was stepping in, drawing more than one angry glance and a few profanity-laced warnings. I knew I stuck out and not just because I was damn near running. There weren't any other men wearing a suit and tie and dress shoes, dodging and weaving through crowds focused on nothing more than letting the good times roll.

  The fact that this might very well be one of my last times walking down Bourbon Street stuck in the back of my mind, a dark shadow that I was doing my damnedest to ignore. As much as I had resented being traded, I'd slowly come to accept that New Orleans was home now and likely would be for the foreseeable future.

  Because of Addy.

  And now, because of her, there was a chance I'd lose it all.

  No, not because of Addy—because of her father.

  I slipped on something slick, the sole of my dress shoe providing little traction. My foot slid out and I quickly regained my balance before falling in an indignant heap in the middle of the street.

  I swore beneath my breath, wondering if the slip was from whatever I'd stepped in or from the brief flare of guilt I'd felt. I didn't blame Addy but there had been a few seconds this afternoon and evening, when I'd been talking to my agent, where I had been tempted to.

  A few months ago, I probably would have. I would have had no problem at all pointing a finger and laying the blame for every shitty thing that had happened this past year right in Addy's gorgeous lap.

  But I couldn't—wouldn't—do that now. If there was anyone to blame, it was me. I was the one who pursued her after learning who she was. Maybe it was the temptation of going after something I wasn't supposed to have, or the allure of breaking yet another fucking rule that had been thrown in my face. Or hell, maybe I just had some hidden need to fucking self-destruct and destroy every single chance I was given.

  Except that wasn't it, not really. Maybe that had been my subconscious motivation at first but it sure as hell wasn't now. And it hadn't been, not for the past month. The truth was, I wanted Addy. Not because I couldn't have her. Not because I was trying to prove anything.

  But because I—

  Fuck.

  I stumbled again, caught myself as I turned the corner then stopped, the reality of what the hell I'd been ready to say—at least to myself—slamming into me.

  No. Fucking. Way.

  I stood there, my lungs fighting for air as sweat beaded my forehead and covered my palms. There was no way in hell I was thinking what I was thinking.

  But I was.

  I wanted Addy but it was so much more than that. My mind refused to let the word completely form but my heart already knew.

  And now that I knew, I refused to give up so easily. Her father might want me gone—something my agent had reluctantly told me could very well happen—but I wasn't about to leave without a fight.

  Not this time.

  And not just because of Addy.

  I started walking again, my mind racing in pace with my hurried steps as I made my way through the darkened side streets of the Quarter. Maybe this city wasn't my home yet but I wanted it to be. I'd found friends in my teammates here in New Orleans. I'd discovered a sense of brotherhood I'd been missing with the Bombers because I'd kept everyone away.

  I wasn't giving that up without a fight and I didn't give a shit about contracts and clauses and waivers. I'd find a way. I had a reputation for breaking all the rules and I wasn't about to back down now, even if I didn't have a fucking clue how to go about it just yet.

  I glanced at the numbers on the buildings then backtracked until I came to the right one. A wrought-iron gate blocked the way through a small opening in the aged brick and I pushed against it, only to realize it was locked. There was a small intercom attached to the wall and I pushed the button, waiting to hear Jacqui's voice, or even Addy's. A buzzer sounded instead, followed by the metallic click of the gate unlocking.

  I stepped through and closed it behind me until I heard the latch catch then made my way back to the small courtyard and over to the steps that would take me to Jacqui's apartment. I paused just outside the door, ran one hand through my hair and adjusted my tie, then rapped my knuckles against the wood.

  A minute went by, then another, long enough that I started to wonder if I was at the wrong place. Or maybe this was the right place and Addy didn't want to see me. She hadn't responded to any of my texts, hadn't answered any of my calls. Maybe Jacqui had been lying when she'd said—

  The door opened and Addy stood in front of me, the long waves of her dark hair framing her face and falling around her shoulders. I started forward, wanting to pull her into my arms, needing to hold her. The shadows of uncertainty filling her eyes as she stared up at me stopped me before I could take a single step. The bottom of my stomach dropped open and a blast of icy air engulfed me from the inside out. I swallowed and forced a smile I didn't feel to my face.

  "Hey." I shifted my weight from one foot to the other then ran a hand through my hair again. "Can I come in?"

  I hated the pleading in my voice, hated the uncertainty pressing against me. I held my breath, fully expecting the door to close in my face. The air fled my lungs in a rush of relief when Addy stepped back and motioned me inside.

  I glanced around, taking in the overstuffed furniture upholstered in bright colors. The mismatched throw pillows scattered on the sofa. The framed artwork hanging from the walls.

  And the curious gaze from the woman lounging in the armchair, her jet black hair pulled away from her face and held in place by a headband of some sort. The fingers of her manicured hand were wrapped around a martini glass. She slowly raised it, taking a careful sip as I stood there, my gaze locked to hers. She was silently judging me, waiting to see what I would do, and I knew with a certainty I couldn't explain that this was some kind of test—at least on her part. If I passed, I'd gain her blessing and she'd become my biggest ally when it came to Addy.

  But if I failed, she'd become my biggest adversary.

  I had no intention of failing.

  I dipped my head in a nod of acknowledgment, receiving the same in return before shifting my gaze to Addy. She stood near the edge of the sofa, her hands clasped in front of her. She was wearing a pair of pale green flannel lounge pants and a matching top that clung to her curves. H
er right foot rocked back and forth, the only sign that she was as nervous as I was.

  Jacqui cleared her throat and stood, making a big production of yawning before draining the last of her drink.

  "Look how late it is. Almost past my bedtime." She moved to the kitchen and placed the glass in the sink, then palmed the switch on the wall. The room immediately dimmed, the only light coming from the small lamp on the corner table. "You two kids have fun catching up."

  Surprise and disbelief flashed across Addy's face as she turned toward her friend. "Jacqui—"

  "I'll be in my bedroom if you need anything, just call out. Unless you don't need anything, in which case I won't hear a thing." Jacqui's gaze darted to mine and I expected to see silent warning in their depths. Instead I saw encouragement and something else that surprised me: acceptance. The warning was still there and I'd be a fool to think I'd won her over this fast. She wasn't completely convinced of my intentions but she was willing to give me the benefit of the doubt.

  For now.

  And that meant more to me than I'd expected it to.

  "Just remember what I told you, hockey boy."

  "I will."

  She made a small humming noise then turned and disappeared through one of the two doors on the other side of the kitchen. I waited to hear the soft click as it closed then turned back to Addy.

  "What did she mean by that? What did she tell you?"

  "It doesn't matter."

  "Did she threaten you?"

  "Addy, it doesn't matter."

  "She did, didn't she? She shouldn't have. And she wouldn't do anything, not really."

  Wouldn't she? I wondered how well Addy really knew her friend if she actually believed that. There was no doubt in my mind that Jacqui would do exactly what she had said she would—and succeed in doing it, too. But Addy didn't need to know that.

  I reached for her hand, surprised that she didn't pull away. I was even more surprised when she let me tug her to the sofa and sat beside me. "Why didn't you answer me back? When I sent all those texts."

  One shoulder rose and fell in a small shrug. I squeezed her hand, willing her to look over at me, but she kept her gaze focused on her feet.