Breaking the Rules

by Suzanne Brockmann

She didn’t know whether to take him seriously, and because of that she wasn’t sure what to say.

  “I know that’s not why you did what you did,” he continued, “but I’m grateful just the same.”

  He was serious. He was sitting there, looking her in the eye, and thanking her for what she’d done.

  God damn you! Don’t you ever think before you do anything?

  Maybe this was cosmically correct. Izzy was as angry as Dan usually was when she messed up. And here Dan was, cool and calm, and actually thanking her.

  “Izzy’s really mad at me,” she told him, fighting back the tears that welled in her eyes.

  “You drove a car toward a man with a weapon, who’d discharged that weapon at you in the recent past,” Dan pointed out. “I’m feeling a little what-the-hell myself.”

  “The man who was going after Neesha,” Eden explained, “had a gun and he was going to kill her. I could tell from the way he was moving—it was like he wasn’t even … human anymore, and I know that sounds ridiculous but—”

  “It doesn’t,” he said. “I know what you mean.”

  “You do?” She gazed at him, and he sat there looking steadily back at her. This was probably the most eye contact they’d had since, well, since that awful year that Charlie had died, when Eden had turned fourteen and stupidly climbed into John Franklin’s car.

  “Yeah,” Dan said. “Killing’s not always easy to do. For some people, there’s a disconnect. Others … come alive, which can be even scarier to watch.” He sighed as he studied her. “You sure it was Neesha? I’m not convinced I could pick her out of a lineup, and I’m good with faces.”

  “I’m sure,” she told him. “I called her name, and she turned.”

  Dan nodded, and exhaled hard. “Well, okay.”

  “We need to find her,” Eden said. “Whoever those men are? They’re serious. She’s in trouble.”

  “You and Zanella can do that tomorrow,” Dan said. “Maybe take Ben with you. Tonight I need you to stay with him, because, well, Jenni and I are going to spend the night at a hotel, in the honeymoon suite.” He smiled.

  Eden smiled, too, because it was so … odd. Her too-serious older brother was having a solid case of the goofies about the fact that Jenn was going to marry him.

  So she leaned forward to ask, “You really don’t think you could have closed this deal with Jenn, just with a little dinner and moonlight?”

  “I tried a few days ago,” Dan admitted, “but I kind of screwed it up.”

  “Wow, I can’t imagine that,” she said. “The Gillman curse, striking Captain Perfect.”

  His smile faded. “Jesus, Eden, I really hate when you call me that,” he said.

  “I really hate that you think I’m a terrible person,” she said, and to her absolute horror, she started to cry. She stood up so that she could turn away, her chair screeching as she pushed it back across the linoleum floor.

  “I don’t think you’re a terrible person,” Dan said. “I think you’ve made … some really terrible choices. I think you’re great with Ben. And I hope, whatever happens, that you stay close. To him.”

  “Not you?” she asked.

  “Well, I’ll be living in the same apartment as Ben,” he said, “so …”

  “Maybe I’ll visit when I get out of jail,” she said.

  “You’re not going to jail,” Dan told her. “Izzy’s on the phone with a lawyer. The rental-car company’s looking like your biggest headache, but Izzy’s already up in their grille—literally—about the fact that the car he rented didn’t have working air bags. When the dust finally settles, I think the worst you’ll have to deal with is a fine and an inability to get a driver’s license without taking some kind of punishment class. Driver’s ed, you know?”

  Eden turned and looked at him. “That’s … all? You mean, they really believe me? The police and the detectives and … You?”

  “There were a lot of witnesses,” he pointed out.

  “Ah yes, the witnesses,” she repeated. “That’s where I’ve gone wrong, most of my life. My very worst choice was that I didn’t make sure, whatever I did, that there were plenty of witnesses.”

  “Look,” Danny said, but then stopped. He looked up at her—he was still sitting at the table—and he sighed and shook his head.

  “What,” she said, coming to sit back down across from him. “Come on, Dan. Lecture me. We both know that’s why you came in here. Because even though I’m apparently not going to be thrown in jail, the entire world now knows that I was working as a stripper and—”

  “That’s not,” he said, still shaking his head. “Why I … Actually, I came in to invite you to my wedding. We’re gonna go to the same place where you and Zanella … went. I’ve seen the picture and … You looked really great …”

  Her mouth was hanging open and she closed it. “When did you see the picture?” Izzy had worn his dress whites, and she’d worn a rented gown that was designed for brides who were six months pregnant. Her boobs had been humongous and the dress had been so low-cut that it was a costume malfunction waiting to happen, but the picture—a portrait taken as part of the wedding package that Izzy had paid for—had come out great.

  “You’re kidding, right?” Dan said. “I mean, come on. Zanella carried that picture around with him, wherever the team went. He had it laminated. I have this memory of him, on a medical helo, bitching at me for bleeding on the damn thing while he wiped it dry.” He paused. “You do know what he did for me? The battlefield transfusion …?”

  Eden looked at him. “What?” she said. “The what?”

  “It’s called a battlefield transfusion,” her brother told her. “I was pinned down by a sniper. I was hit—a bullet nicked my artery.” He pointed down at his right leg. “I was dead. I was sure I was going to bleed out, because there was no way they could evac me out of there, not until the sniper was contained, and that just wasn’t going to happen soon enough.

  “So Zanella gets some medical tubing and some needles, and you know, when I say that, it sounds like he strolled to the local CVS, but this motherfucker had a shitload of ammo and … The sniper motherfucker, not Zanella, although he can be a real motherfucker, too.”

  Eden nodded. “I get it. What happened?”

  “So Zanella leaves the minimal cover that we’ve got to go get this shit, and then comes back with it and …” Danny shook his head in disbelief. “Apparently—I was out of it by this time—he used himself as my own private blood supply. A needle in his arm, blood going out, and a needle in mine, blood coming in. He gave me so much of his own blood, Eed, he nearly died. He needed a transfusion, too, which is why we both ended up in the hospital in Germany.”

  “Dear Lord,” Eden breathed. “I didn’t know. I didn’t realize he was in the hospital, too.”

  “Figures he wouldn’t tell you. What a douche.”

  “How could you call him that?” Eden asked. “He saved your life.”

  “That doesn’t make him less of a douche.”

  “I think you’re a douche,” she said, laughing her indignation.

  “Yeah, well,” he said. “You’re probably right.” But then he got serious. “Some people just don’t get along. He pushes my buttons. He always has. He probably always will.”

  “Have you asked him to stop?” Eden asked her brother. “And not like, Jesus, Zanella, fuckety-fuck the fucking fuck! But more like, Izzy, please, don’t do that right now, it’s a hot button for me, so I need you to give me some space.”

  Danny itched his ear. “I’ve only done it, you know. The fuckety-fuck way.”

  “He’s really smart,” Eden told him. “And he’s really, really a good guy, Danny. He had a kind of unusual childhood—”

  “And ours was normal?”

  “Good point,” she said. “I just think he would really like to be friends with you.”

  “Well, he’s coming to my wedding,” Dan told her.

  “Best man?” she asked.

  Danny m
ade a face. “I … think I’m going to ask Ben to do that.”

  “That’s a great idea,” Eden enthused. “Ben will be thrilled—and Izzy will, too.” She stopped herself. “Assuming he’s over his anger—and capable of being thrilled.”

  “He’ll be over it,” Dan told her. “He’s got the attention span of a—”

  “Don’t say it,” she warned him. “If he’s going to stop jumping on your buttons, you have to give him something in return.”

  Dan laughed. “Zanella hasn’t exactly agreed to anything yet.”

  “He will,” Eden told her brother. “All you have to do is ask.”

  Ben’s sister, Eden, saved her life.

  Neesha had absolutely no doubt about that.

  Todd had been ready to kill her. He’d told her as much during his visits. If you try to leave this place, we’ll find you. We’ll hunt you down and kill you, like the animal you are …

  He was the animal, having sex with a powerless child.

  After spotting him, there at the hamburger place where she was supposed to meet Clarice, Neesha had run, despite knowing that it was over, that she was surrounded, with Eden and her car so close by. There was nowhere to go to hide, and no way she could outrun that car, let alone the bullets from Todd’s gun.

  But she’d run anyway, and when she’d turned to look back, fully expecting to see her death approaching her, she instead saw Eden as she drove her car toward Todd, as if trying to run him down. He’d turned to run—away from Neesha, buying her valuable time.

  And Neesha had kept running.

  She’d run until she couldn’t run anymore. And it was clear, by then, that Todd wasn’t going to find her—and that Eden had saved her life.

  It had taken Neesha a while to figure out where she was, and then to figure out what she was going to do.

  It wasn’t a difficult choice. She knew, whether or not Clarice was responsible for bringing Todd to the hamburger place, that she couldn’t go back to Paradise Road. She would have to try her luck elsewhere.

  Or she could take a risk and go back to Ben and Eden for help.

  FRIDAY, MAY 8, 2009

  8:12 P.M.

  “What do you think of this one?” Jenn held the dress up in front of her as Eden looked up from her perusal of the racks.

  Dan’s sister frowned. “Too busy and … Too long-sleeved. You’ve got great arms and beautiful skin. Let’s give Danny a heart attack, okay?” She held up a dress that was strapless, with a fitted bodice that had bustier-like stays and a relatively full skirt. “I think you should try on this one.”

  “Yeah, hello,” Jenn said. “Have you looked at me? I’m not particularly well endowed up top.”

  “But that’s why God made Wonderbras,” Eden told her with a smile. “There’s a lingerie drawer over there.” She pointed over to the changing area. “Just pull your size and take the entire drawer into the dressing room with you. I’ve got the dress.”

  Eden led the way, and sure enough there was an entire drawer filled with different types of bras in Jenn’s simultaneously large and meager size. Large number, small letter, that is.

  But Eden was running this show, and she put the gown on a hook in one of the changing rooms, and with the briefest of glances into the bra drawer, she reached in and plucked one out that was both strapless and heavily padded. “What color dress do you want me in?” she asked as she handed it to Jenn.

  “Oh,” Jenn said. “I really don’t know. I guess … I like … blue?”

  “Blue it is,” Eden said. “I’ll pick out a couple that’ll fit me, and let you choose. Give a shout if you need help getting that on.”

  She vanished back toward the racks as Jenn went into the changing room and looked at the dress, and then the bra she was holding in her hands. She put it down—there was a chair in there, it was a big open area—and unfastened the robe she’d put on after showering in the spa-like bathroom.

  This place was nicer than she’d imagined from its cheesy-sounding, sexual-innuendo name. Of course, a happy ending was what happened at the close of a fairy tale, too. It wasn’t just a euphemism for an orgasm.

  “You’re going to help me with my hair, right?” she called to Eden, her stripper slash fashion consultant slash soon-to-be sister-in-law.

  “Of course,” Eden called back. “And I’ll help with your makeup, too. Although the lady who works here? Izzy calls her Mrs. Fudd, on account of her husband looking like Elmer—we should probably find out her real name—but she’s very good and—Ooh, look at these! What size shoe are you?”

  “Ten,” Jenn said as she put on the bra and … hello! She looked in the mirror, turning to see herself from all sides. Wow, wasn’t that quite the dramatic effect? Who knew? “I could just go barefoot …”

  “No, no,” Eden said. “You okay with a small heel?”

  “Define small,” Jenn answered.

  “Two inches?”

  “I’d prefer something lower,” Jenn said honestly as she took the gown that Eden had picked off the hanger. She slipped it on. “I really like the way Dan is taller than me. Not many men are, and …”

  “Say no more,” Eden said. “We’ll go with one inch—just enough to make your legs look like a million dollars.” She imitated Dr. Evil when she said those last few words, and Jenn had to laugh. No wonder Izzy was enthralled.

  “Except, you know what, Eden? I really don’t think anyone’s going to see my legs,” Jenn pointed out, just at the very moment that she looked in the mirror and realized that there was a huge slit up the front of the dress that completely exposed her left leg, from the very top of her thigh all the way to her foot. “Okay, so I’m wrong about that. Wow. I definitely need some help with the zipper.”

  She pushed open the curtain as she held the dress up to her chest.

  Eden was there instantly, pulling up the fastener. “Deep breath,” she said. “And don’t worry, you won’t be holding it in the entire time. There’s stretch in this thing. You can exhale … now.”

  “Yikes,” Jenn said as she looked at herself in the mirror. The bra gave her cleavage unlike any she’d ever had before, and the shaping of the bodice gave her an hourglass figure, while the skirt hid her too-generous hips and …

  As large as she was, she did have rather nice, very shapely legs. Even she had to acknowledge that.

  Eden set a pair of shoes in front of her—slip-ons with the tiniest nub of a heel—that were covered with sparkling rhinestones. Jenn wouldn’t want to take a hike in them, but they were definitely perfect for this dress.

  Still, she wasn’t quite sure … “Isn’t a wedding gown supposed to be demure?” Jenn asked. “I mean, that’s the point of wearing virginal white, isn’t it?”

  “Are you a virgin?” Eden asked, and she didn’t wait for Jenn to respond, instead answering for her. “No. Is this Las Vegas? Why, yes, it is. Trust me, this dress is demure for Vegas. I mean, you could go with something in red …”

  Jenn laughed as she turned back to the mirror to look at herself again. “I’m pretty sure Dan wanted me wearing white.”

  “You look amazing,” Eden told her. “And the rental’s for the entire night. You can leave in it, you know, go dancing or … whatever. Just bring it back tomorrow before three. Izzy and I didn’t get a chance to do that—we went right to San Diego after we got married. But you will. And you should. Danny’s gonna want to … Well, wedding night.

  Right?”

  The door opened and Eden turned, ready to pull the curtain closed—in case it was Danny. Which was sort of stupid. Not only were superstitions like that one—the groom shouldn’t see the bride’s dress before the wedding—ridiculous, they didn’t really apply to people who married in order to gain custody of a teenager.

  But it wasn’t Dan, it was Mrs. Fudd, the woman who helped the strange little man with the faux-British accent who ran the place. The accent was particularly odd because he did look quite a bit like Elmer Fudd come to life.

  “Finding eve
rything?” Mrs. Fudd asked brightly. She was wearing the most amazing beehive wig, as if they’d caught her on the way to an audition for a B-52s tribute band. Still, she seemed to love her job.

  “We’re doing great,” Eden reported.

  “You are,” the woman enthused as she peeked in at Jenn. “Oh! That’s such a beautiful dress, dear. You make quite the striking figure.” She turned to Eden. “What about you?”

  Eden had put three blue dresses on a separate rack outside a second dressing room, and as the woman looked at them, she said, “Oh, no, dear, those are mother-of-the-bride dresses. You’ll want something younger.”

  She immediately bustled toward the section of the room that held the bridesmaid dresses.

  “No, no,” Eden called after her. “You don’t have to … See, I wanted something with a little jacket, just like these. I’m … a little chilly?”

  She was totally lying, and Jennilyn knew exactly why. Eden—who shared Dan’s genes and was gleamingly gorgeous—didn’t want to risk outshining the bride.

  But Eden turned to Jenn to say, “I hope you don’t mind. I wanted something that covered me a little bit more. I’m tired of feeling overexposed.”

  Jenn smiled back at her. “Are you sure you don’t want to wear something that’ll give Izzy a heart attack?”

  “Yeah, thanks, but no,” Eden said, rolling her eyes. She was trying to be upbeat and light, but Jenn didn’t miss the unhappiness in her eyes as her smile became forced. “I don’t think that’s a good idea. I already almost gave him a real one tonight and … He’s still not exactly talking to me.”

  “You do know that you could’ve been killed,” Jenn pointed out.

  “A person could be killed just walking down the street.” Eden took the dresses she’d picked out into other changing room and pulled the curtain.

  “But you weren’t exactly walking down the street,” Jenn reminded her. “You took a real risk—for someone you barely know.”

  “Yeah, well,” Eden said from behind the curtain, “you should talk—doing what you’re doing for Ben.”

  “I’m doing it for Danny, too,” Jenn pointed out.