Rule Breaker (New Orleans Bourdons Book 1)

by Lisa B. Kamps

  "Addy—"

  "He's going to trade you, isn't he?"

  My mouth snapped closed and I sat there, wondering how much to tell her. There was no trading involved—Landry was threatening to put me on waivers to force the termination of my contract. My chances of ever playing hockey again, at least professionally, would end as soon as that happened. The only sliver of hope I had was the fact that it hadn't happened yet and I had no idea why. Neither did my agent.

  I didn't want to tell Addy that but I couldn't lie to her, either. So I squeezed her hand and gave her the best answer I could under the circumstances, which was more of a non-answer than anything else. "My agent is working on some things."

  "It's my fault."

  "It's not your fault."

  "Yes, it is. If I hadn't—"

  "Hey." I pressed the tip of my finger against her mouth, silencing her. "It's not your fault, Addy. It's not anyone's fault. I've been more worried about you these last two days, especially when you didn't answer. Are you okay? Did anything happen?"

  She shook her head then reached up and tucked the hair behind her ear. Her gaze darted to mine, long enough that I could see the shadows of worry in her eyes before she looked away. "I'm fine. And nothing happened. We just—we had a big argument and he...I've never seen my father like that before, so cold and angry. So I left and came here."

  "What was the argument about?"

  "You. He threatened to—" Her mouth snapped closed and she shook her head. "Never mind. It doesn't matter."

  "He threatened to do what?"

  She closed her eyes and turned her head away, her shoulders slumping with the weight of whatever she was remembering. Her voice was so soft when she spoke that I almost didn't hear her—not that I needed to because I already knew what Landry had threatened. I'd known since this afternoon. No, that wasn't true. I'd known since Thursday night, had seen his intentions in his cold gaze as he glared at me at the restaurant.

  "To destroy your career."

  Anger shot through me even though I'd known what she was going to say because there was a difference in knowing and hearing it out loud. But the anger wasn't directed at Addy. At her ass of a father, yeah, definitely.

  But not at Addy.

  "Is that why you didn't answer any of my calls or texts?"

  She nodded but still wouldn't look at me. "I was afraid if I did, he'd somehow find out then carry out his threat. I guess I was being silly though, because he did it anyway, didn't he?"

  "Addy—"

  "I'm so sorry, Nathan. I never meant for any of this to happen."

  "Nothing's happening. Not yet. And if it does," I shrugged, forcing a nonchalance I didn't feel. "We'll deal with it then."

  "I know it's selfish of me but I—" She took a deep breath and released it in a ragged sigh then turned and offered me the sweetest smile I'd ever seen. "I don't want you to leave."

  "Who said I'm going anywhere?"

  "You won't have a choice."

  "Addy, I'm not going anywhere. I—" My mouth snapped shut before the words came out and I wondered what stopped me. It sure as hell wouldn't be the first time I'd told a woman I loved her so why was I hesitating now? What the hell was so different now from the handful of other times?

  I knew the answer before I even finished asking the question. The difference now was that I meant it. Really meant it. Maybe I'd convinced myself those other times that I'd meant it then, too, but those other times didn't count. Not now. What I felt those other times didn't even come close to what I felt with Addy. And the thought of walking away from her? Of never seeing her again?

  Hell no. I'd rather walk away from hockey, something I would have never in a million years considered with any other woman. Nobody came before hockey. Nobody—

  Except Addy did. And for reasons I didn't understand, that realization didn't leave me hyperventilating with fear and anxiety and denial.

  I reached for Addy and pulled her across my lap. Her hands gripped my shoulders as she tilted her head back, her dark eyes wide and filled with bewilderment. I cupped her face with both hands and stared into her eyes, wondering if I meant it. If I could go through with it.

  The simple answer surprised me because I realized that yeah, I could. More than that, I wanted to. Hell, I needed to, more than I'd needed anything in a long time.

  I dipped my head and caught her mouth with mine, the kiss soft and gentle and entirely too brief. "I'm not going anywhere, Addy."

  "But—"

  "I love you." Her eyes flared in surprise and her full lips parted but I dipped my head and kissed her again before she could say anything. Maybe it was cowardice on my part, born out of fear that she didn't feel the same way. Hell, we hadn't been together that long, it shouldn't surprise me if she didn't feel the same way.

  That didn't mean I was ready to hear her say that so I deepened the kiss, swallowing back a low groan as her body melted against mine. As she clung to me, her arms wrapping around my neck like she never wanted to let go.

  And that was enough for me. For now. I could wait for however long it took because I wasn't going anywhere. Not without Addy. Not unless she wanted me to.

  And I hoped to hell that day would never come.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Addy

  "I should go inside with you."

  "It won't take me long. I'll be fine."

  Nathan's jaw clenched and the muscle just below his cheek jump the tiniest bit. His gaze slid to the large house just down the street, hidden from view behind stately trees not much younger than the house itself. His blue eyes burned with an intensity that caused my heart to leap when he turned his gaze back to me.

  I pressed the flat of my palm against his cheek, loving the feel of the soft scruff tickling my skin. I loved the fact that he was worried about me even more. He wanted to go with me, just in case there was any kind of trouble when I went to collect some more of my belongings.

  "I'll be fine, Nathan. Honest. Nothing is going to happen."

  "What if your father comes home?"

  "He won't. Marie told me he was having brunch at the Hardings. I'm sure he's still nursing his first Bloody Mary. It'll be fine." I'd thought the same thing last week as well, the night I'd met Nathan for our fancy dinner. It was a night that should have ended with me falling asleep in Nathan's arms; it had ended in disaster instead because I'd sorely miscalculated my father's whereabouts.

  I didn't tell Nathan that. He was worried enough as it was. And this time I really did know where my father was, thanks to my sister. There was nothing to worry about.

  "I still wish you'd let me come with you."

  "I know." I leaned across the leather console of his sports car and pressed my mouth against his, the kiss warm and filled with promise despite its short duration. I pulled away with a smile then climbed out of the car, fighting every last impulse to skip along the uneven sidewalk. I'd risk twisting my ankle if I did something so silly. Worse, I'd look like a damn fool.

  Another burst of joy surged through me and I almost gave in to the silly urge no matter how foolish I'd look. Nathan loved me! He'd actually said the words. Out loud. To me.

  He'd only said them that one time, and he hadn't allowed me to say them back. I hadn't missed the worry in those piercing blue eyes of his right after he'd said them and I had wondered if he regretted them so quickly. Then I looked again and realized it wasn't regret I saw in his gaze, but fear that I'd fling the words back at him with a casual wave of dismissal.

  Why on earth he'd think I'd do that was beyond me. He had to know how I felt. Then again, maybe not. It wasn't as if I'd said anything. Maybe he thought it was too soon, that we hadn't been together long enough to develop that kind of emotion. And there were certainly plenty of people out there who'd agree.

  But I didn't care what anyone else thought. Nathan loved me and I loved him. Nobody else mattered.

  Besides, he'd practically asked me to move in with him.

  Well, okay,
he hadn't. Not really. But he'd scowled at Jacqui's sofa this morning when I told him that's where I'd been sleeping then suggested I stay with him instead. I wasn't sure what surprised me more: the fact that he'd made the suggestion or the fact that Jacqui had accepted before I could manage to get more than an embarrassing squeak out.

  We'd walked back to Nathan's apartment hand-in-hand, my single duffel bag tossed over his shoulder as we made our way over to Iberville. We both showered and changed, Nathan looking just as delicious in a pair of faded jeans and a long sleeve t-shirt as he had in his rumpled suit. Then we drove over here after I called Marie to make sure our father wasn't home.

  My sister was anxious to meet Nathan—her glimpses of him the night of the party didn't count—and I knew she'd be full of questions when I walked in without him. That was another reason I had asked Nathan to stay in the car. Not because I didn't want them to meet—I did—but I didn't want them to do it here, in this sprawling house that was part ancestral home and part museum that was shadowed by my father's disapproval. Marie would just have to wait until later this evening, when she came over to Nathan's place for dinner. It had been his suggestion, one I'd gladly jumped on without hesitation.

  I walked around the side of the house and entered through the small door that opened just off the kitchen. The house was quiet, the kind of quiet that usually meant nobody was home. Marie was probably upstairs, headphones firmly in place, listening to her eclectic mix of music.

  I started down the long hall toward the curved staircase then paused with my foot on the bottom step. I tilted my head to the side and frowned, wondering if I was hearing things. It sounded like a man's voice, angry and impatient and so low I couldn't be sure I was really hearing it. Maybe it was just an echo of Marie's music, or the sound of the television with its volume turned down.

  Except there wasn't a television in the front parlor because that room was used to impress my father's guests and business associates whenever they stopped by. In fact, the only television downstairs at all was the one tucked into a cabinet in the kitchen that Joanna sometimes watched while she was cooking.

  I turned and headed toward the front parlor, more convinced than ever that I was hearing things—right up until the second I heard Marie's voice. Sharp, angry—and cut abruptly short.

  I hit the parlor doors at a full run and pushed through them with no idea what I expected to find. Whatever it was, nothing in my wildest dreams could have prepared me for what I saw.

  Marie, her headphones draped around her neck, her face flushed with anger and worry and a hint of fear as she faced down the man standing a few feet away.

  Quinn Harding.

  Anger ripped through me at the sight of him. Here. In our house. My eyes took in everything in less time than it took for my pulse to soar in raw fury.

  Quinn's face, flushed with anger.

  His usually perfect hair, disarrayed.

  The top three buttons of his dress shirt were undone and a piece of the bottom hem was hanging over the waistband of his perfectly pleated trousers.

  And the most damning thing of all: the imprint of Marie's hand on his cheek.

  I turned to my sister, my gaze raking her from head to toe in search of signs that she'd been harmed in some way. I didn't want to think about what might have had happened already, or what might have happened if I hadn't shown up. Despite the slight shake of Marie's head and the whispered reassurance that she was okay, a fresh wave of fury swept over me, raw and consuming, shredding every last ounce of reason. I stood in front of Quinn with no memory of moving toward him, my body shaking uncontrollably, my ears filled with a dull roar.

  "How dare you." My voice was low, trembling and thready. Quinn stared at me, his gaze letting me know that not only did he not consider me a threat but that he found me amusing.

  "Calm down, Adelaide. Don't let your imagination run away with you."

  "Do you really think you'll get away with this, the way you've done all those other times?"

  Anger flashed in his eyes, the emotion quickly blinked away to be replaced with something that looked like boredom. "Get away with what? Nothing happened."

  "Your lies won't save you this time, Quinn. When I tell Daddy what you did—"

  "Do you honestly think he'll believe anything you say, Adelaide?" He laughed, the sound short and biting and as dismissive as his stare. He reached up and adjusted the buttons of his shirt with a cold smile I itched to slap from his face. "Especially after the way you embarrassed him by being with that stupid hockey player? After the way you made a fool of him in front of his friends?"

  I ignored the pain Quinn's words caused, knowing all too well that they were probably true. In my father's eyes, I had embarrassed him. But what my father thought of me had no bearing on what was happening now and I tamped down the hurt. "When I tell him you were here, that you tried—"

  "I didn't try anything and you can't prove otherwise, either one of you. As for my being here—" Quinn's mouth curled in a cold smile that left me chilled. "Who do you think suggested I drop by for a social call? Now get out of my way."

  He started past me only to come up short when I stepped in front of him, blocking his way. I wasn't sure why I did it, if I wanted to demand he deny what he'd just said or if I wanted to ask him to explain his words. I knew I couldn't stop him from leaving, knew he could easily push me to the side and step around me.

  I knew it, but I was still surprised when it happened. Quinn's hand closed over my arm, fingers biting into flesh as he shook me, hard. Hard enough that my head jerked back with the force. Hard enough that my teeth chattered together. I heard Marie scream in warning then in anger. Heard her muffled steps against the thick carpet as she rushed toward me. It was instinct that caused my arm to swing out, that caused the palm of my hand to connect with the side of his face. The loud crack of skin striking skin echoed around us, the noise much louder in my head than it must have really been.

  Quinn's fingers tightened around my arm and he jerked me toward him, his face mottled with fury as he raised his fist. I winced, expecting to feel pain shatter my face as he hit me, but there was...nothing.

  One second Quinn had been right in front of me, his raised fist ready to connect with my cheek. The next, he was simply gone. Something tugged me from behind and I sucked in a sharp breath, gasped in surprise when I opened my eyes and realized it was Marie, her arms wrapped around my waist, supporting me as much as she was supporting herself.

  I looked back, expecting to see that Quinn had left. That, for reasons I didn't understand, he'd simply gone, leaving us alone.

  But he wasn't gone. He was on the floor, one arm curled around his head as Nathan bent over him, one hand gripping Quinn's shirt so hard that the buttons had snapped completely off. His other hand was curled in a fist, drawn back and ready to fly forward. His face was eerily calm but his eyes—even from this distance, I could see the fury blazing in the deep blue irises and knew that he was a split second away from slamming that fist into Quinn's face.

  "Nathan, don't. Please." My whisper was so hoarse that I was afraid he didn't hear me. Afraid he wouldn't pay attention even if he had. And as much as I wanted Quinn to pay—as much as I knew he needed to face the consequences of what he'd done—I knew Nathan couldn't be the one to do it. Guilty or not, Quinn would turn the tables on Nathan and in the long run, Nathan would be the one to forced to pay the price. Years of seeing firsthand how often Quinn was able to buy his way out of trouble had proven that.

  "Nathan." I said his name again, my voice only a little stronger this time. I held my breath, wondering if he'd listen, then released that breath when Nathan shoved Quinn away and straightened. He turned toward us, the calm expression I'd noticed a few seconds earlier melting into one of worry and concern. A second later, I was in his arms, safely engulfed in his strong hold. Not just me but Marie as well, only I didn't know if that was because she refused to let go of me or if it was because Nathan had simply pulled her into the
hug as well.

  "Are you okay?"

  I nodded then pressed my face into his chest, needing to feel him against me for a few minutes more. Maybe he realized that as well because his arm tightened around my waist and I felt the warmth of his breath wash over my skin a second before he pressed his lips against my temple in a heartbreakingly tender kiss.

  That was how my father found us when he walked in a few minutes later.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Nathan

  "Stop squirming or it's going to hurt worse."

  "It doesn't hurt now—" Addy's voice ended in a hiss of pain and I winced even though I wasn't the one who was hurt. Not physically, at least. Inside, my guts were shredded and I had to fight to keep my stomach in place every single time I looked at her arm.

  Like right now. I'd been applying ice to it on and off for the last few hours, hoping to keep the swelling down and the bruising at a minimum. The ice seemed to be working on the swelling but the bruising—

  My gut clenched and twisted again and I had to close my eyes and force myself to swallow the rage that threatened to bubble back to the surface. The bruising circled her upper left arm, discoloring the tender flesh in angry purples and blues so dark they were nearly black. The only problem with closing my eyes was that every time I did, I saw the image of that fucking asshole grabbing Addy. Shaking her. Pulling his fist back to hit her in the face.

  I should have laid his ass out flat when I had the chance. The only thing that had stopped me was the soft pleading I'd heard in Addy's shaking voice. I had a feeling I'd regret listening to her for a long, long time. She had explained why she asked me to stop but even then, I couldn't really let go of the feeling that I'd made a mistake listening to her.

  Especially now, when the evidence of what he'd done was staring me in the face.

  Addy was seated at one of the stools at the kitchen island, dressed in a pair of yoga pants and a tiny tank shirt with cute lacy straps, her bare feet resting on the bottom cross brace of the stool. She looked natural. At home. Like she belonged here. As far as I was concerned, she did belong here. I just hoped she felt the same way because I had a feeling I wasn't going to want to let her out of my sight any time soon.