Breaking the Rules

by Suzanne Brockmann

  “Oh, thank God!” Eden clasped her hands and brought them up to her mouth, like someone who’d just been told by an expert from the Antiques Roadshow that Great-Grandpa’s collection of outhouse seats was worth fifty thousand dollars.

  “She’s been working as a home health aide,” Dan continued as tears filled Eden’s eyes, “and her current client, well, he’s dying. He thinks she’s his dead wife, and he wants her there, so … She’s been pulling a lot of around-the-clock shifts. Who knew she had that in her? Anyway, I got her to agree that Ben would be better off with me, living down in San Diego. So …”

  The tears overflowed. “Thank you. Oh, Danny, thank you.”

  “I, uh, didn’t mention you.”

  Eden nodded as she fiercely wiped her eyes, as she sniffed and wiped her nose with the back of her hand. “That’s probably best.”

  She didn’t let it show in her voice, but Izzy didn’t miss the regret and disappointment that flashed across her face as she struggled to rein in her emotions. In a family filled with massive fuck-ups, she was perceived to be the black sheep and always would be. Although Ben, being gay, had to be running a close second these days. Dan, however, was the golden boy and clearly had retained that elevated status with their mother.

  That had to be hard as hell not to resent, but she didn’t. She was obviously beyond grateful that Danny had appeared and used his shining superpowers to help her set their little brother free.

  And Izzy couldn’t help himself. He reached for her, gently smoothing her hair back from her face, tucking a stray strand behind her ear, as Danny’s voice continued from the tiny speaker of his phone.

  “But I am going to count on you, Eden,” her brother told her, tightly, stiffly, almost formally, as she turned and looked at Izzy—an expression that he couldn’t read on her impossibly pretty face. “To be there. To take care of him when I’m not around. To keep him out of trouble. To keep yourself out of trouble, too.”

  And okay, that was a pretty dickish thing to say. Izzy made a face, but Eden turned away, pulling free from Izzy’s hand as she nodded, even though Dan couldn’t possibly see her.

  “I know,” she said. “I will.”

  “Maybe you’ll do for Ben what you couldn’t do for yourself,” Dan said, which was a really dickish thing to say.

  But Izzy held his tongue as Eden said, “Danny, I promise—”

  He brushed it off. “We’ll talk more when I get there. Is your place big enough for us to stay with you while we’re in town?”

  “There’s a pullout couch, in the living room,” she said, glancing over at Izzy again, almost apologetically this time. “I don’t know how comfortable it is, but … You can have the bedroom.”

  “That’s not necessary,” Dan said. “And it’s only for one night. We’ll leave for San Diego in the morning, but I’m looking to save money, so … A three-bedroom apartment won’t be cheap.”

  Three-bedroom? Wait a minute. Was Dan expecting Eden to live with him and Ben, too? Somehow Izzy had imagined Dan sharing a place with his brother, and Eden having her own separate apartment.

  Or—yeah—moving back in with him.

  Holy shit, sometime between Oh, yes and Oh, YES, Izzy had apparently gotten a little ahead of himself.

  “I’ve got some savings,” Eden was telling her brother, clearly on board with the whole three-bedroom apartment plan, which left Izzy absolutely out in the cold and crying bitter tears into his pillow as he remained decidedly alone and unlaid. Unless she was actually thinking they could all live together like some really dysfunctional version of Full House. “Plus, I’m working full-time. I’ll help pay the bills. And if we need to, Ben and I can share a room.”

  And … Izzy was back to weeping and unlaid. Okay, then. She definitely wasn’t factoring him into any of her plans. Good to know.

  “We’ll talk when I get there,” Dan said again.

  “What about Ben?” Eden asked. “Where is he? Can we go pick him up?”

  “He’s at a place called Crossroads, right there in Las Vegas. I’ve already spoken to them. Ivette made arrangements for Ben to be released to me, so … We’ll go there directly from the airport. Look, we’re here, I gotta go. We’ll see you in a few.”

  “Thank you,” Eden said again, but Dan had already cut the connection.

  Izzy pocketed his phone. And then there they sat, in the darkness.

  “Thank God,” she murmured again, and he knew she was, once again, fighting tears.

  “You know,” Izzy finally said, “sometimes it’s okay to let loose. Sometimes the news is just too freaking miraculous.”

  She laughed, but it came out sounding more like a sob. “It is miraculous, isn’t it? I almost can’t believe it could be this easy.”

  “Every now and then,” Izzy told her, “the good guys catch a break.” He put the car into gear and eased away from the curb. “No point sitting here anymore. Shall we … get that room at Caesars Palace?”

  She snorted her disgust. “I’m not going to make you spend that kind of money when I have a perfectly good apartment.”

  Izzy cleared his throat. “One that you haven’t exactly invited me to.”

  “We’re still married,” she reminded him. “Which makes half of everything I own yours. Not that I own the apartment …”

  “Does that include half of your stripper money?” he asked, not just because he was an asshole, but because he was currently a jealous asshole. He was here to save the day in return for a whole lot of steaming-hot sex, only the day had been saved very nicely without him.

  Eden looked at him sharply. It was the deal they’d made, back before they’d taken their vows. She’d even signed a prenup. Half of everything that was hers was his, and none of what was his would ever belong to her.

  He’d had no intention of ever upholding the agreement. He’d only drafted and signed the damn thing because she was adamant about not taking advantage of him. She’d insisted upon it, because the truth was that she only married him for his health care and for the chance to give her baby his name.

  Not that either of them had ever expected her to come into any great sums of cash.

  But now, as she sat in the car beside him, she squared her shoulders and nodded. “Of course.”

  It was clear his days were numbered. Still, if he were going to take whatever he could get for as long as he could get it, he’d have to work to be a whole lot less peevish.

  “Yeah,” he said, “no, sweetheart, see, I was kidding. It was just a bad joke.”

  “We had a deal,” Eden told him quietly.

  “I’m not going to take your money,” he said. “That’s not what I want, okay?” He looked over at her as he pulled out onto the main road, and she was watching him. “You know what I want.”

  She nodded. And then she reached over and put her hand on his package, grabbing hold of him right through his pants.

  “I know because I want it, too,” she said, her voice even huskier than usual. “How about you drive this thing a little faster?”

  Neesha woke up with a jolt as the apartment door slammed shut, and her heart pounded as she realized that she was no longer alone.

  She’d left the light on in the kitchen—the dim one over the stove. It was enough for her to see that it was Ben’s sister Eden who’d come home, and she wasn’t alone. She was with the big man that Neesha had seen out on the sidewalk. He’d found her and … He’d bought her apparently, because he was kissing her and touching her as if he owned her.

  Eden was pulling off her clothes as if she couldn’t wait for it to be over with—Neesha knew what that was like. She slipped off the couch and huddled behind its arm, near the wall, praying that she wouldn’t have to witness Eden’s shame.

  But the man started to laugh. “Hey,” he said. “Sweetheart. Slow down. I’m not going anywhere. Let’s do this right. You got a bed in here, somewhere? Because as tempting as it might be to knock your pictures off the walls and/or get a rug burn on my ass
—”

  Eden laughed, too. “See, now, I’m just appreciating the lack of a gearshift and parking brake.” Her voice was husky and she didn’t sound at all unhappy or afraid. “My bedroom’s over here …”

  “Wait, wait,” the man said. “I’m stuck. These stupid shoes, there’s a knot in the lace and … Shit, shit!”

  There was a thump, as if he’d fallen. But he wasn’t angry, and he didn’t lash out at Eden. He was laughing, and she was laughing, too.

  “Let me help,” she said.

  “Ho-kay,” the man said on an exhale. “I’m not sure that can be defined as helping per se …”

  “It helps me,” she said. “It’s been on my wish list since last July.”

  “Wish list,” he said. “Isn’t that supposed to be things you want me to do to you?”

  “It doesn’t have to be,” she said. “I mean, it’s my wish list, right? I can put whatever I want on there.”

  “You could,” he agreed. “Baking cookies in giant chicken suits could be right up there at number six.”

  “Six?” she said, laughing. “That’s at least five, if not four. But only if we’re in the same suit and the cookies are chocolate chip.”

  “Mmm,” he said. “Number seventeen: doing the macarena at the White House.”

  “In the Oval Office,” she added. “Out on the front lawn, it’s only 117.” She whooped in surprise, but then laughed. “Are you really gonna …”

  “Carrying you to bed like this is on my wish list,” he said, his voice getting softer as he moved down the hallway.

  “It is undeniably hot,” she said. And the door closed behind them and their voices were muffled.

  Neesha sat there, afraid to move, afraid to be discovered. But then their laughter faded, and she knew neither one would be coming out anytime soon.

  So she grabbed her bag and the key she’d taken from beneath the potted plant, and she silently crept across the living room and toward the door, stepping over the clothing they’d discarded.

  But then Neesha stopped, because there, on the floor next to a pair of almost frighteningly large shoes, was a wallet.

  And even though she knew she shouldn’t, even though she knew it was wrong, she bent down and opened it. And there, inside, was a stack of money. It was crisp and beautiful and there was so much of it—ten whole bills, most of them bearing a giant two and a zero.

  Praying that she would be forgiven, she took one of them, slipping it into her pocket before she silently went out the door.

  CHAPTER

  THIRTEEN

  LAS VEGAS

  THURSDAY, MAY 7, 2009

  Dan’s sister was beautiful.

  The color of her eyes and hair were almost startlingly identical to Dan’s, and they had the same basic shade of perfect, smooth skin, although it was clear to Jenn that, at least in the recent past, Eden had spent far less time outside, in the sun.

  She’d met them at the luggage carousel, even though neither Dan nor Jenn had checked any bags. She was waiting for them as they got off the elevator, her eyes widening as she saw Dan sitting in the wheelchair that Jenn had insisted he use.

  It was telling—the fact that he’d agreed to the ride from the gate. He was feeling much worse than he’d let on during the flight, and she was glad she’d talked him out of making the equally long drive to San Diego tonight.

  Of course maybe Eden’s wide eyes were all about Jenn, who was looking frumpier and more rumpled than ever after waking up at holy-shit-o’clock to fly most of the way across the country.

  “Danny, thank you so much for coming!” Eden had rushed to greet her brother, clearly uncertain as how best to bend and hug him, so she didn’t—an awkward moment made even more awkward by the airline attendant nearly pushing Dan’s chair into her.

  Dan hadn’t helped much, his focus on getting out of there. “Is Zanella …?”

  “He’s with the car. He’s circling,” Eden told him, leaping back out of the way to keep the wheelchair from running over her feet in her open-toed sandals. She’d clearly gone to some length with her appearance, dressed as she was in a pretty flower-patterned sundress, her long hair twisted up into an artfully messy chignon, her makeup carefully understated. “He didn’t want to park and make you walk all that way.”

  And with that, Dan was whisked away toward the pickup area, leaving Jenn to juggle both of their carry-on bags and to introduce herself.

  “God damn it, slow down,” she heard Dan say to the chair-pusher. “Jenni, are you—”

  “It’s okay,” she called after him. “I’m okay, we’re right behind you, Danny. I’m Jenn LeMay,” she told Eden, who took the handle of one of their bags from her as they both scrambled to follow. “Thanks.”

  “I’m Eden. Thank you so much for coming.” Eden was clearly embarrassed by Dan’s apparent rudeness. And yes, there was definitely a little bit of amazement on her face, too, as she took in Jenn’s stringy hair and tired eyes behind her glasses.

  “He’s in a lot of pain,” Jenn told her, sotto voce. “Since he left the hospital, he won’t take the painkiller that the doctor prescribed and …”

  Eden forced a smile. “Thanks for, you know, but … he hates me. I know he hates me. It’s okay, I’m used to it by now.”

  “He doesn’t hate you,” Jenn started.

  But Eden interrupted. “I’m surprised he let them give him any painkillers at all. Even in the hospital. He’s always been freaked out. You know. Terrified he’ll be instantly addicted. Considering our family, it’s understandable.” She shrugged. “So who knows? Maybe he’s not just being bitchy because he hurts, maybe he’s also going through withdrawal. Good luck to all of us with that.”

  At first Jenn resisted the urge to stop short, mostly because Dan and his wheelchair were so far in front of them. But then she did stop, because that distance-created privacy was a good thing. She put a hand on Eden’s perfect arm, and stopped the younger girl as well.

  And she was a girl. She was only nineteen, even though she looked much older.

  “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t’ve made excuses for his behavior,” Jenn told her. “But, see, I know how hard this is for him, and I love him … So, I’m inclined to cut him a little slack. But, you’re right, he was being bitchy and I’ve heard his end of several phone calls to you, and I just want you to know that I’ve been slapping him upside the head. A lot lately. More than usual. For being less than polite to you, in case I didn’t make that clear.”

  Eden was just standing there, looking at her, almost perfectly expressionless.

  “I guess what I’m trying to say is that, well, I hope you’ll be patient with him, at least until his injury heals. I’m going to try my best to help out, at least over the next week and … I don’t know if he’s mentioned this to you yet, but he seemed to think it might a good idea for you—both of you—to go to an Al-Anon meeting or two—”

  “I don’t drink,” Eden said. “Not since …” She shook her head.

  “Well, no, Al-Anon’s not … It’s like Alcoholics Anonymous, but it’s designed for the families of alcoholics. There’s a great program for adult children of alcoholics—I’m one, too, and … Well, it really helped my brothers—some of my brothers—and me deal with some pretty intense issues from our childhood. It was good, because now that we’re adults, we can have these completely different relationships—healthier relationships—than we did when we were kids, back when we had no control over what was going on around us, you know?”

  Eden was looking at her as if she were speaking Greek, but then she nodded very slightly and said, “And Danny … wants to do this? This program? With me.”

  “Yes, he does,” Jenn told her. “But it’s kind of obvious that it’s hard for him, when he’s with you, not to slip back into your childhood relationship. So … it might be difficult for him to communicate that to you, until … Well, it’s kind of a catch-22, you know?”

  “Who are you?” Eden asked, laughing to try to hide t
he tears that sprang into her beautiful eyes. “His girlfriend or his therapist?”

  “Like I said. I’ve been in your shoes. Younger sister …? Older brothers behaving like total dickheads …?”

  Eden’s smile and laughter became more genuine.

  “I never had a sister,” Jenn told Danny’s as she pulled the girl in for a hug. At first Eden resisted, her body stiff as if she’d never been hugged by a friend before. “I’m looking forward to getting to know you better. And? When Dan does act like a total dickhead? We are going to join forces and let him know it. Is that a deal?”

  Eden hugged her back then, almost fiercely, as she laughed. “Jennilyn LeMay, it’s definitely a deal.”

  “Come on,” Jenn said. “Let’s go find Ben and bring him home.”

  Peter Sinclair the third was gone from the cell when Ben woke up.

  Whatever drug they’d given him in that injection must’ve still been in his system, because he’d heard nothing—and it was hard to imagine that other boy being taken away without raising some kind of fuss.

  His arms were stiff from sleeping with them up and over his head, and his bladder was uncomfortably full. He was feeling the first signs of low blood sugar—shaky and sweaty and considerably nauseous. He was also experiencing his trademark irritability—normally a telltale signal that he needed some sugar, fast. When he wasn’t being held prisoner, that is.

  In his current situation, feeling irritable was a given.

  He looked around the cell, at the drab walls, floor, and ceiling, at the bare lightbulb hanging overhead, at the other cot, where … Yeah, Peter Sinclair had definitely pissed himself at some point in the night. The smell of urine was unmistakable and nauseating.

  And definitely the drug had still been in Ben’s system last night when he’d talked to the other boy, because at the time, he’d felt oddly calm.

  Now, however, his heart was pounding at the idea that he was locked up and tied down—a prisoner here, for God knows how long. He remembered telling Peter that Eden would find him and get him out.

  Today, he had no such misconceptions. He was a prisoner here, and he would remain a prisoner here—and there was little he could do about it.