Breaking the Rules

by Suzanne Brockmann

  She didn’t take more than a few steps before Clarice said, “Well, all right. I guess giving you half is fair enough. But I will expect you to chip in now and then to help pay for gas.”

  But there wasn’t going to be a then. There would only be tomorrow night.

  “Do we have a deal?” Clarice asked.

  Neesha nodded.

  “See you tomorrow at six,” Clarice said, and got into her car.

  She started it with a roar and pulled out of the lot, leaving Neesha alone in the shadows.

  One more night of hell, and she’d finally be free.

  Jenn woke up to the sound of raised voices from the living room.

  “What the hell is this?”

  “Oh, my God, did you actually go through my things?”

  Danny and Eden.

  “Is this really how you get your money?” Dan asked his sister as Jenn scrambled to get out there. “By wearing this shit and selling yourself?”

  The lights were blazing and Eden and Izzy were still in the little entryway, as if they’d just come back home from searching for Ben’s friend.

  Even though the mall had to have closed several hours ago.

  Dan was standing there, too, just inside the living room, at the edge of the air mattress Jenn had helped Izzy set up, back when they’d thought they’d be bringing Ben home with them tonight. Dan had taken some of the be-sequined costumes—if they could even be called costumes, they were so insubstantial—from the drawer in the bedroom. They lay glittering, on the floor, where he must’ve thrown them at Eden’s feet.

  Oh, Danny. “I thought we decided we’d do this in the morning,” Jenn said, “when everyone wasn’t so tired …?”

  But Dan didn’t even look at her—his full attention and his outrage were focused on his sister.

  “I’m willing to do whatever I have to do,” Eden shot back at him as she bent down and picked up her things, her movements jerky with her anger. “To help Ben.”

  “Oh, you do this for Ben,” Dan said. “I’m sure he’d be so proud.”

  “It’s not like it’s illegal,” Eden pointed out, which was something Jenn and Dan had talked about extensively before they’d decided to go to bed and leave this discussion for the less murky light of day. Or rather, she’d decided that. And apparently she hadn’t noticed when Danny hadn’t agreed.

  Earlier, Jenn had surfed the web, using the wireless from a nearby coffee shop to research Nevada’s laws that legalized prostitution. It was pretty mind-blowing.

  She wasn’t sure whether it was a good or bad thing—the fact that the sex trade in this state was regulated, and that there were rules that, at least on the surface, seemed to protect the women who rented out their bodies.

  It also seemed pretty obvious to her that prostitution was going to exist, regardless of whether or not it was technically legal. The sale of sex flourished all around the world, even in countries where it was punishable by death—to the woman, that is. Men tended to get off with a much lighter penalty.

  But in a society like the one here in Nevada, where prostitution was acknowledged and regulated—at least in some of the state’s counties—there were assurances that the women who did the work, who were normally exploited, would actually be paid a living wage.

  Maybe.

  Danny had seen the entire subject in a more definite black-and-white. He believed—absolutely—that it was wrong to pay or be paid for sex.

  But the bottom line was that, in parts of Nevada, it wasn’t illegal for a woman to sell her body. Just as Eden had pointed out.

  “But it should be,” Dan said now.

  Izzy, meanwhile, was shaking his head as he stooped to help Eden. “It is pretty uncool, bro, to go through her things like that. Considering you’re a guest here …?”

  “Why don’t you just stay the fuck out of this, bro?”

  Izzy straightened up to his full height and got in Dan’s face. “Why don’t you just dial it down, asshole? It’s just not that big of a deal.”

  “It’s a huge deal!” Dan was incredulous, and on that point, Jenn had to agree. “I can’t believe you actually knew about this, Zanella. And you didn’t fricking tell me? What the hell is wrong with you?”

  He shoved Izzy, who bumped into Eden, nearly knocking her over.

  “Hey!”

  “Danny,” Jenn said, stepping forward.

  He didn’t look at her, he just looked—briefly—toward her. “This doesn’t concern you, either,” he said tightly—ouch—before turning back to Izzy, who’d moved right back to where he was before Dan had shoved him.

  “It’s none of your business,” Izzy told Dan, with an edge to his voice that Jenn had never heard before. Not to that degree. And it scared her. Both of these men were trained to kill with their hands, and she did not want this fight to become physical. “What your sister does, the choices that she makes. It has nothing to do with you. It never has.”

  “Except she’s my sister,” Dan shot back. “And she’s doing … what she’s doing, and everyone knows that she’s Eden fucking Gillman.”

  “I use a stage name,” Eden said defensively, but then glanced over at Jenn and gave her the strangest, almost apologetic look. “Sort of.”

  Stage name was a weird thing to call it. Jenn would have expected her to use the word alias. Except maybe Eden saw the whole thing as a performance, which it was, Jenn supposed, on a very basic, very disturbing level.

  “I can’t believe you’re okay with this,” Dan lit into Izzy again. “Jesus, I expected you to have a meltdown when you found out. But no, you’re such a twisted son of a bitch, you probably like that she’s getting paid for—”

  “I realize that this doesn’t concern me,” Jenn said loudly over him, “but I honestly believe this entire conversation will be far more productive if we have it in the morning.”

  Izzy’s voice got even harder as he got into Dan’s face. “What I like or don’t like doesn’t play into it, because I don’t own your sister.”

  “Obviously not.” Dan turned back to Eden. “What the hell are you going to say if we have to have an interview with Child Services? They’re going to ask you where you work. Do you just think they’re going to be like, Great, let’s just put the kid in the custody of the whore.”

  “Don’t call her that,” Izzy warned.

  “I have a second job,” Eden said. “At a coffee shop.”

  “Am I even here?” Jenn asked. “Or am I invisible?”

  “Of course you do,” Dan told his sister, speaking over Jenn. “Because there are two things that you’ve always been good at. Lying and being a whore.” He looked at Izzy. “Hard not to call her that, when that’s what she is. Starting back when you were, what? Fourteen. With John fucking Franklin. Giving it up for a beer, in the back of his car.”

  And, oh, dear God, he couldn’t have issued a more formal and direct invitation to be punched if he’d handed Izzy an engraved card saying Daniel Gillman the third requests the honor of your fist in his face.

  The only thing that stopped Izzy was the fact that Jenn moved quickly and stepped in front of Dan. Apparently, she wasn’t invisible after all. At least not to Izzy, whose face now matched the scary edge to his voice. She wasn’t so sure that Dan could see her, though.

  He was already egging Izzy on. “You want a piece of me, douchebag,” Dan said. “I’m right here. Come and get me.”

  “Don’t do this,” Jenn said. “Please. Both of you just step back and take a deep breath.”

  “Jenni, stay out of this,” Dan ordered her.

  Eden, meanwhile, had recoiled as surely as if Dan had slapped her. But she immediately fought back. “So nice of you to just take John’s word for what happened—without even asking me! Of course, right, I was thirsty, and I figured why not trade my virginity for a beer. That’s exactly what every teenage girl dreams about!”

  “I didn’t need to ask,” Dan shot back. “It was Sandy, all over again!” Sandy, their older sister, had be
come addicted to both alcohol and drugs at an insanely early age.

  “No,” Eden shouted back, “it wasn’t! Because I’m not Sandy!”

  “Yeah,” Dan said, his voice breaking with his frustration and anger, “you’re worse!”

  Both Jenn and Izzy moved at that exact moment, both of them speaking simultaneously—Jenn saying, “Danny, stop it!” while Izzy went with, “Gillman, just shut the fuck up!”

  And it was then that it happened. And it happened so quickly, but despite that, Jenn knew exactly what went down. It was an accident. Completely. It was as much her fault as his. She turned toward Danny, whipping her head around to add, “right now,” just as he reached to physically pick her up and move her out from between himself and Izzy. He was going for her shoulders with both of his hands, but because she turned the way she did, his left hand connected, hard, with her face.

  It sounded as if he’d slapped her, and God, the force of the contact actually made her ears ring and her teeth rattle, and shoot, she must’ve cut the inside of her lip because now she even tasted blood.

  She staggered and stepped to steady herself, but the edge of the air mattress was right there against her ankle, and she tripped and went down. The mattress broke her fall, but they’d filled it a little too full, so she bounced and rolled off the other side onto the carpeted floor with a very loud thump.

  Dan scrambled to help her, and she should have paid more attention to the look of absolute horror that was on his face, but her temper flared, because this was what happened when people had discussions about volatile topics when they were overtired, and he had agreed to wait until the morning but apparently he’d lied just to get her to shut up about it already, so she smacked at his hands as she pushed herself out of his reach saying, “Get away from me! Don’t touch me! You’ve done enough, Dan, just … don’t!”

  Izzy and Eden were frozen there, shocked, but it was Eden who moved first, roughly pushing her brother out of the way as she came to help Jenn sit up.

  Dan didn’t resist, he just let himself get shoved off the mattress and onto the floor with an equally loud thud.

  Eden had tears in those eyes that were the same rich shade of brown as Danny’s, and as she looked at Jenn’s face, she caught her lower lip between her teeth. “Izzy, we could use some ice. There are dish towels in the drawer, second one down, left of the fridge …”

  But Dan pushed himself to his feet. “I’ll get it,” he said in a voice that was so tight that Jenn barely recognized it. He swiftly went into the kitchen.

  With him gone, Eden didn’t waste any time. “Has this happened before?” she asked Jenn almost silently, her words nearly hidden by the crunching sound of Dan grabbing some ice from the freezer.

  “God, no,” Jenn said. Did she honestly think …? “Eden, really, it wasn’t … I got in his way.”

  “Yeah, like that’s a new one.” Eden didn’t look convinced as Dan came back in with ice wrapped in a white-and-blue dish towel. He looked as if he were either going to cry or be sick. Or maybe both, simultaneously.

  “It was an accident,” Jenn told her, told Dan, too, even as he spoke over her. “Jenni, I’m so sorry. I’m—”

  “It all just comes sailing back around, doesn’t it?” Eden interrupted him as she took the ice from him and showed Jenn where to hold it against her cheekbone. “You try to break the cycle, but it’s harder than it looks, because we learn these terrible things when we’re children, and then, somehow, here we are, and it’s okay to hit your girlfriend as long as you cry convincingly enough when you say you’re sorry afterward.”

  “Oh, my God,” Dan said. “Jesus, no, that’s not what happened. Jenni, Christ, I didn’t—”

  “I don’t think you’re allowed to talk right now,” Eden cut him off.

  “It was an accident,” Jenn said again, but Dan had already turned away, his hand over his eyes, because he actually had started to cry.

  “It starts that way,” Eden told her grimly. “Daddy would cry and apologize, and maybe it was an accident at first. Maybe it started because he wasn’t careful. He moved too fast. He got too angry. His hand slipped. At first.”

  “Yeah, well, this is not going to happen again.” Dan was adamant.

  “He’d say that, too,” Eden said.

  “How could you possibly remember that?” Dan asked. “You were a baby when he left.”

  “Sandy told me,” she informed him. “Back when she was still talking to me. And I do remember some of it. All these mysterious uncles who’d come over to pick Ivette up to go out for dinner while Daddy was overseas? It’s amazing that Ben’s the only one of us who doesn’t share the same father. And Daddy would come back and he’d find out, because she really didn’t give a shit, because it all started because he didn’t keep his pants zipped. He slept with her best friend. He told me that. While I was living with him, in Germany, last year. It was right after they got married, when Ivette was pregnant with Sandy. And she was too young and stupid to know that was it. Game over. He wasn’t going to change. He wanted to own her without giving up his own freedom. And she said she still loved him, so she stayed, but I really just think she didn’t have anywhere else to go. And even if she did love him? She also hated him, so hello Uncle Mike and Uncle Steve and Uncle George. And then Daddy’d come home and get drunk and call her names. Bitch and slut and whore. And that’s like hitting, too, you know, Dan.” Her voice shook. “That’s abuse. And you didn’t break that cycle, at least not with me, so if I were you, I’d be thinking long and hard about the fact that it’s highly probable that you didn’t break the other one, either.”

  Jenn couldn’t stay silent any longer. “I disagree. What happened here was an accident”—she pushed herself up so that she was standing—“that absolutely came about because Dan was being an idiot. But he’s not a girlfriend-beating idiot. I know him.” She dropped the towel with the ice and put her arms around Dan, but it was like holding a statue or hugging a tree. He didn’t respond at all, as if he were afraid to touch her in return.

  “Danny, I know you,” she told him. “I know you would never intentionally hit me. And you know this, too. You’re not your father. You’ll never be your father …”

  He broke away from her, bolting for the bathroom.

  And when Jenn started after him, Izzy, who’d been uncharacteristically silent all this time, stopped her. “Let me,” he said.

  “It was an accident,” Jenn said again.

  Izzy looked from her to Eden and back as he nodded. “I know that,” he said. “But I think he’s going to have a little trouble believing it from you.”

  CHAPTER

  SEVENTEEN

  Jenni, God, I’m so sorry,” Danny said as Izzy closed the bathroom door behind him. The other SEAL was on his knees, eyes tightly closed, bowing to the porcelain god, having just sacrificed his dinner into its murky shallows. Izzy helped them both out by reaching forward and flushing the monster.

  “She knows that,” Izzy told this man who, despite trying as hard as he had, had never managed to become his friend.

  Dan didn’t open his eyes. “Leave me the fuck alone.”

  “Yeah, well, small apartment, single bathroom,” Izzy pointed out. “I kind of need to go. Don’t move—I’ll just piss past your head.”

  Danny did more than open his eyes at that—he actually hit the pause button on his current state of sheer misery as he turned to look at Izzy in disgust and disbelief.

  Izzy smiled back at him as he hoisted himself up to sit on the counter of the sink. There wasn’t much counter, so he was half in, half out of the sink itself. Still it was the proper visual aid to reassure Dan that he was only kidding about that piss-past-your-head thing.

  “I’m on Team Jenn for this one,” Izzy told Dan. “You’re not your father, Gillman. Never have been, never will be.”

  Dan didn’t want to hear that—and he tried to slip back into his post-vomit, beat-himself-up state. “Seriously, Zanella, I don’t need your bu
llshit right now.”

  So Izzy reached over with his foot and gave the man a not very gentle push, making him lose his balance and bump his shoulder into the wall near the toilet-paper holder.

  “Hey!”

  “Fuck you for the way you treat your sister,” Izzy told him. “You’re an asshole and a total dick, and if you weren’t so pathetic with your I’m so tired and your I’m so jet-lagged and your Poor me, I almost lost my leg and now I have an ouchy boo-boo, and Don’t let me tear open the stitches because I still might bleed out and die, I’d kick your ass down to the street and pound you black and blue.”

  And okay. Maybe that was too much, because now Dan was getting angry back at him and was about to issue a challenge for Izzy to just fucking try it.

  So Izzy pushed himself off the sink and did exactly what he’d threatened. He unfastened his pants and took a leak right there in the empty bowl.

  And instead of standing up, Dan pushed himself even farther back into the corner, against the wall, to stay out of the splash zone. “Jesus!”

  “There are times,” Izzy said, raising his voice a little to be heard over the pleasantly tinkling waterfall, “when I fucking hate the things you say and do. But I do know that you would rather die than hurt Jennilyn. I know how much you love her—hell, I probably know that better than she does. And I also know, as flipping crazy as you drive me most of the time? You would never intentionally hit your woman. What happened was an accident. And I believe what you said—that it will never happen again.” He shook himself off, zipped up, flushed the toilet, and went to the sink to wash his hands. “In fact, I’d bet my life on it.”

  Dan was silent, just sitting there, staring down at the floor as Izzy dried his hands on one of Eden’s mismatched towels. Given her tendency to be thrifty, she’d probably picked them up at some second-hand store. If she was still around by Hanukkah or Christmas or whatever she celebrated—Festivus?—he was going to buy her a really nice, really thick and fluffy matching set. And sheets that were criminally soft, and shit, maybe a whole new apartment’s worth of furniture.