Against the Rules

by M. E. Montgomery

  He blinked rapidly to hold back the tears that fought for their release. His throat constricted as he glanced at his parents who clutched each other’s hands, barely holding themselves together. But unlike the drama queen to his side, they didn’t want to create a spectacle that might take away from this final moment with their loved ones.

  It doesn't get worse than this. At least this will be over soon, and maybe somehow we’ll find a way to carry on.

  His reflections were interrupted by a quiet sob, and his gaze lowered to the small milk chocolate brown eyes looking up at him through great puddles of tears.

  Wrong. This was worse than the scene in front of him. His stomach clenched as he absorbed the enormity of this unplanned future.

  A small hand slipped into his large warm one. Big and little, they gripped each other tightly. "Uncle Alex, I miss them. I want my mommy and daddy back!" his five-year-old voice trembled.

  Sucking in a deep breath to gain control of his emotions, he knelt down and drew his young nephew into his arms. "I know you do, Aiden. I know. I’d do anything to bring them back for you, but I can’t. But I'm here for you, and I promise I'll take care of you." Oblivious to the dampness that seeped into the knees of his pants, Alex continued to kneel on the ground and held the little boy for the rest of the service.

  The priest finished, and the committal drew to a close. Shielding the young boy from well-meaning guests, Alex stood up and gently negotiated Aiden to the limousine where they were met by Alex’s parents. He never let go of the hand of the little boy for whom he now bore full responsibility. Swallowing hard, Alex again glanced heavenward and breathed a prayer.

  This day was never supposed to happen. I don't know how to do this! Give me strength to be what and who I need to be for Aiden. Please, please help me. Send me some sort of sign to help me know what to do, where to go, and to help me stay the course.

  CHAPTER ONE

  "Any big plans for the weekend, Kayla?"

  At the friendly voice, I looked up from sorting pencils and crayons at a small table and saw Ally, a fellow Kindergarten teacher and good friend who had stopped in my classroom at the end of the day. "Just the usual!" I smiled.

  "So...basically nothing?" Ally smirked.

  I rolled my eyes. "I thought I'd spice things up and maybe go to the antique market."

  "Keep living like that, and you might become an antique yourself before your time, Kayla!” she joked. She walked over to the table and somehow gracefully managed to lower her tall model-like figure into a pint-sized chair. “You need to live a little. Get out and meet more people. There’s even this whole species you could explore called men!”

  I shook my head at her teasing. It was easy for someone with her looks and confidence to joke about meeting men. She didn’t even have to do anything. Men flocked to her like ants to sugar. I was the type of girl who everyone liked and was everyone’s friend, but apparently, I lacked the ‘sugariness’ that attracted men beyond friendship. That was fine. Those who tried were usually just disappointed and never failed to let me know it. After this summer, I was happy staying in my own quiet world where no one could hurt me.

  Ally looked at me sympathetically and clacked her French manicured nails on the table. “Carrie and I are headed out to Back Draft tomorrow night. Why don't you and Jen join us?” she offered. “I hear there will be a band who's supposed to be really good. Just come out with the girls and enjoy the music over a couple of drinks. It's got to beat sitting at home moldering away!"

  I sighed and tossed a few loose crayons into their bin. It wasn't the first time I'd heard similar words. I'd also heard this same mantra from my best friend, who was also my roommate, Jen. I knew they meant well. I even knew they were right, but it just wasn't as easy as they made it sound. The girl I was a few months ago would have eagerly accepted the invitation. But today’s Kayla preferred to stay at home, playing it safe. Events over the past summer left me clinging once again to the safety net of relative isolation. I longed to take control over my life and determine for myself how the past was going to reshape me, but the past never let me escape. It continued to rear its ugly head until I began to believe maybe it was my present and my future as well.

  It wasn’t that I didn’t want to break loose from the shackles of pain that had been forged from humiliation and rejection. I just didn’t know where to begin. Maybe a night out with my girlfriends would be a good place to start. It should be safe and sounded like fun. I took a deep breath. "Okay. I'll check with Jen. But I'm just going out for a girls' night. I'm not looking for anything - or anyone - else," I warned.

  Ally's huge smile made it worth the words I already regretted saying. "Girls’ night only. Got it! How about you meet us there around nine?"

  I ran my now sweaty hands down my pants but nodded affirmatively.

  "Great!" Her huge smile lit up her face while she reached out and gave me a quick hug. "I'm headed home, then. I'll see you tomorrow night."

  I waved goodbye as my friend walked out the door. I looked around my classroom to check if everything was ready for the following Monday. It was a typical room one would expect for Kindergartners. Tiny faux oak tables with mini blue chairs were congregated in the middle of the room. A strip of laminated posters demonstrating the proper way to form letters in the d'nealian style was mounted along one off-white wall that also held a Smartboard. Colorful posters showing the names of shapes and colors decorated the other walls. Three bookshelves stuffed with picture books and other children's literature helped make up a reading corner. Fluffy pillows in bold, fun prints made it a cozy and popular place for the children to explore their ever growing understanding of the written word.

  I'd truly come to care about these little five-year-olds who gathered on weekdays in this room. I loved how passionate they could get exploring new concepts or how critical they could become when picking out just the right crayon color for their latest masterpiece. Their enthusiasm over simple things toward which adults had grown blasé entranced me, like how seeds grow into plants or what things are attracted to magnets. Mostly, I enjoyed how their innocent world hadn’t been spoiled by people disappointing or hurting them. Well, at least most of them. There was one little boy in my class who already seemed to have a tragic story to tell judging by his sad eyes and dejected demeanor, but I had yet to break through to him beyond his quietly spoken responses when asked a direct question.

  Looking toward the windows where their autumn leaf rubbings hung, I sighed sadly. I wasn't going to get to stay with these boys and girls much longer. My time substituting for their regular teacher was coming to an end. I'd moved to the area mid-summer, too late to apply for a permanent teaching job anywhere. But Jen had a friend who taught at a relatively new private school and knew that the principal was desperate for good substitutes. She particularly needed a long-term sub shortly after the start of the new school year for a teacher who would have to be out for six weeks while recovering from surgery. I had applied and been immediately hired after my interview with Mrs. Burns, the principal. It was the proverbial foot in the door for future permanent jobs and would put local experience on my resume. It was a large enough school that Mrs. Burns was sure there would be plenty of other opportunities to substitute on a daily basis. I was grateful to have been warmly welcomed by the rest of the staff and had made several new friends, most notably Ally.

  Pulling my thoughts back into focus, I turned back to my desk to gather the papers I needed to take home to correct. Stuffing them into my ‘Teacher’s Rule’ bag, I scooped it up along with my purse and keys and locked the classroom door. Walking down the main hallway, I called a couple of "good-byes" to a few other teachers still working. Emerging into the late afternoon sun, I walked out to my silver Saturn and climbed in. I couldn't stop the thought that I was too much like the car I'd chosen six years ago. Like the automobile maker that no longer existed, I was no longer the confident girl who bought the car.

  Enjoying the sun-induced wa
rmth inside, I leaned my head against the headrest and closed my eyes. For most people, Monday mornings and the return to work was a struggle. For me, it was the end of the day and having to go home, with Fridays being the worst. For the past few months, I had merely existed, relying on a daily routine to get through each day. Getting back into the classroom had been a welcome reprieve. I threw myself into my role as a teacher, even if it was just temporary. The energy and passion of the children were a wonderful distraction.

  But the moment I left the school, I went back on autopilot, following the same routine every evening – go home, write lesson plans, eat, read, sleep. There was safety in routine. It kept my mind from thinking too much, which was good, because thinking led to remembering, and remembering led to nowhere good, at least for me.

  Evenings were hard enough, but weekends brought a larger challenge because there were so many more hours to fill up. Until now, my answer had been avoidance. I avoided meeting new people outside of work. I tried to avoid social gatherings. Mostly, I avoided thinking about my hopes and dreams for my future. But what I couldn’t avoid were the memories of whispers behind hands, malicious snickers, knowing grins and mocking eyes, and doors closing on my dreams for the future.

  Cock tease.

  Ice queen.

  You’re just not enough.

  The ugly, but haunting words triggered a headache that beat against my temples and hampered my breathing. Determined to tune the memories out, I opened my eyes and turned the car engine over. Pink's song, "Try" was playing. Trying to calm my breathing, I focused on her lyrics about getting up and trying even if it means getting burned.

  Well, I had tried more than once. Each time I always seemed to get burned, but none worse than this past summer. I wasn’t sure I had any more ‘try’ left in me. Even just thinking about him made my stomach feel hollow and my eyes burn from the threat of tears behind my eyelids. My mother always knew how to build up my spirits and make me feel better. But even that had been taken away from me.

  However, I knew staying in my self-imposed safe cocoon wasn’t a good answer either. Being single didn’t have to be synonymous with ‘hermit.’ Going out this weekend with the girls rather than sulking at home would be a good start. With renewed determination, I cranked the radio up louder and drove the short distance home.

  Download NORTH STAR for free to read the rest of what happens to Kayla when she falls, literally, for the right man and a little boy. (North Star is continued in True North.)

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  Author Tidbits and Acknowledgements

  This book is dedicated to the 1 in 6 men who are believed to have been sexually abused or assaulted—and that number is thought to be underestimated because men are less likely to admit or talk about it. Think about that. That means that as you look at the men in your life, you probably know at least one who has experienced it. Jax’s story is not based on any specific person is not meant to represent any specific person or background or resulting issues. I chose to have his abuser be a female because that is one of the least reported incidents, for some of the same reasons Jax found himself struggling with. For more information, there are several websites that deal specifically with this issue. Here are just a couple:

  https://1in6.org/

  https://www.rainn.org/articles/sexual-assault-men-and-boys

  For clarification’s sake, Passion, Virginia is just a figment of my imagination, but is kind of like a collective of some of the Virginia towns that I’ve passed through or spent time in, specifically ones impacted by the railroad. The US does have Lithium mines, but the substantial ones are much further west of Virginia. At the time of my research, the US imports approximately 80% of its lithium, but a recent discovery in Wyoming, if able to be tapped, has the potential to become a major supplier of the metal.

  This story was a work of love and dedication from a whole lotta people in addition to me:

  To Heather of L. Woods PR: thanks for never giving up on me and my struggle with deadlines! And answering all my questions. And giving me honest opinions. And all the amazing teasers. And the organizing for promos. And…the list is truly endless!!

  To my beta readers: Gail, Shannon, Kathy, Andrea, Christie, and Cindy who kept sending inspiring thoughts and encouragement, as well as reading more than one round of this story.

  To Christine who helps me stay on track and keeps up with all the things I struggle to stay on top of.

  To Shannon: thank you for another beautiful cover! I’ve no idea how you can figure out what I want when I’m not even sure myself!

  To Shelley: Thank you for being my final set of eyes and cleaning up my words! You’re amazing!

  To my amazing, supportive family – thanks for always being there! I’m truly blessed be a real life HEA.

  And to you, the readers – thank you for spending a part of your days or evenings with my stories! I’m extremely grateful to you!

  Also by M.E. Montgomery:

  Polaris Series

  North Star (currently FREE!)

  True North

  Starlight Wishes

  Hearts Aligned

  Standalones:

  Yesterday’s Tomorrows

  Indelible (with newsletter signup)

  Remember With Me, part of Sirens of SaSS Anthology

  Coming Soon - new series

  Against the Rules (Aug. 9, 2018)

  Against the Script (2018)

  Against the Odds (2019)

  Against the Beat (2019)

  About the Author

  M.E. Montgomery has been an avid reader her entire life, and she freely admits to having a one-click addiction for romance stories. She has a passion for writing romances with characters who are loyal and lovable, but made stronger through love. She is the homework queen to her four school aged children who think she is a genius in math, science, history and spelling. Fortunately, her biology and elementary school teaching background help her to keep up the expert façade, at least for now. She is a proud Navy wife, setting up a home wherever the Navy sends her husband. When she’s not reading or writing, she loves to go camping with her family, drink wine on the deck, and be swept off to romantic getaways.

  Be sure to check out her reading group on Facebook, Reading With ME. Find monthly contests and see covers, teasers, and snippets before anyone else!

  Also find her at:

  memontgomery.com

  me@memontgomery.com