Breaking the Rules

by Liz Durano

  “What do you mean?”

  “I don’t think this is a flashback for him. I have a feeling it’s got something to do with Drew, your husband. I mean, he loved both of you and he really looked up to Drew. After all, the guy saved his life.”

  Todd’s brows knit together and the smile fades from his face as he continues. “When Drew died, I think Sawyer believed—truly believed—that he failed him. He kinda retreated then, too, but nothing me and the guys couldn’t coax him out of. But I think he believed he failed you, too. He always liked you, Al. I still remember that time when you and Drew visited him at Walter Reed when he had to go through another surgery for his leg. One minute, he was kicking Drew and me out of his room and the next minute, we come back and it was like the skies opened up and he was suddenly… happy. And all you did was sit with him.”

  The day I read him Invictus, I almost say out loud but I don’t. “So he’s home now?” As Todd nods, I continue. “I’d like to come by and visit him. I just need to drop Ty at Harlow’s. He’s scheduled for a play date this afternoon.”

  Todd draws out a long exhale. “That would be good, Al. Maybe it’s you he needs to talk to. Whatever happened in LA between you two, it’s something no one from around here can help with.”

  When I get to the brothers’ earthship later that afternoon, Todd is in the living room typing on a laptop at his desk. The brothers have managed to split the earthship into two sections with the living room, decorated with repainted 70’s wood furniture, an oversized couch in front of a big screen TV and plants that include a dwarf macadamia tree dotted with clusters of round green fruit, and the kitchen being the common living quarters. Game remote controls are lined up on the coffee table next to a stack of sci-fi paperbacks, two of them bearing Todd’s name.

  Other than the smooth voice of Eagles’ Randy Meisner singing about being loved by a woman and not knowing it coming from the speakers, there’s nothing else going on. Todd, who’s sitting in an armchair next to a bookcase smoking a joint, cocks his head toward the far end of the hallway which I assume is Sawyer’s part of the house.

  “He’s in there,” he says. “I told him to expect company so he should be decent.”

  Sawyer is sitting at the edge of his bed when I come in, wearing a t-shirt and fatigue cargo shorts, his feet bare against the floor, a pair of headphones over his ears. The moment he sees me, he slides the headphones off and sets it on the bedside table. I leave the door slightly open behind me.

  “Todd told me you were in here. I knocked but you didn’t answer.”

  He gets up from the bed and faces me. “Alma, I…”

  “Before anything else, I have a few things to say.” I clear my throat, grateful that he doesn’t interrupt me. “I know I should have told you what happened from the very beginning but I made a promise to Drew that I felt that I needed to keep for Tyler’s sake… and his family’s. I know it was wrong. I know I should have said something but that’s done now and I take full responsibility. What I can’t stand is this… knowing I’m going to lose someone else whom I love very much and there’s not much I can do about it.”

  “Alma, that’s not true.”

  “But there is something I can do about it and it’s this: me standing here to tell you that I love you. And while I understand how you must be blaming yourself for Drew’s death or his PTSD and what happened between him and me, it’s not your fault. You don’t have to carry the blame for it like you’re doing right now,” she says. “We all carry our share of guilt and blame—all of us. From me, for not telling anyone because I wanted so desperately to believe he could get better on his own, to his parents who put him on a pedestal as the hometown hero, the son who could do no wrong. There’s the VA, for having Drew go through so many damn hoops just to get help that in the end, he figured maybe there was nothing wrong with him that a few beers couldn’t fix.”

  “Alma, you’re forgetting the fact that I stepped away when I shouldn’t have. I was his battle buddy. I should have stepped up, no matter how much it would have hurt for him to hear what I had to say.”

  “But he would have still pushed you away, Sawyer. Don’t you understand that? If it wasn’t to accuse you of making a move on me—which he did and it worked—he would have used something else to push you away,” I say, watching him scowl. “And it wasn’t just us. It was him, too. Drew bought his own damn narrative about being the hero Sergeant everyone in his unit looked up to that he couldn’t even allow himself to be seen at the VA asking for help. All of us carry our share of guilt and shame, Sawyer. It’s not just yours to keep. I won’t let you.”

  “But he was right. I was this close to making a move on his wife,” Sawyer says.

  “But you didn’t. I was there, too. Remember?” I counter. “Besides, do you think Drew would want us to be miserable for the rest of our lives as we argue about whose fault it is? I bet he wouldn’t. No, I know he wouldn’t. He would have wanted to see us happy, Sawyer… you, me, and Tyler.”

  “You were always too optimistic, Alma,” Sawyer says, chuckling dryly. “But that’s where you’re wrong about me. I don’t deserve you and Ty. I wanted you that day. I wanted to take you away from him so bad I could taste it.”

  “But you didn’t,” I whisper.

  Sawyer sighs. “It doesn’t matter now, Al. You deserve someone better.”

  “Is that really how you feel, Sawyer?”

  I see the hesitation cross his handsome face, my heart skipping a beat, a glimmer of hope, maybe, in the horizon. But Sawyer doesn’t answer me. He looks away. I tell myself this isn’t a repeat of what happened with Drew because it’s not. Drew’s illness killed his spirit. His demons won. But I’m not about to let the demons that accompany Sawyer’s guilt push me away like this. I’m not about to let them win and leave me blaming myself for what happens next in this chapter, the one that once belonged to Sawyer and me.

  “I can never repay you enough for giving me a new start, Sawyer, for showing me that there’s so much to life than I thought there was because I was too blinded by my own guilt. But I’ve already seen the outcome of one lost cause and I’m not going to sit here and go through it again.” I feel my jaws clench as I turn toward the door and reach for the handle, pushing it open. “When you’re done hurting… when you’re ready to heal, you know where to find me.”

  20

  Sawyer

  “You’re officially an idiot. You know that? I can’t believe you let a good woman like Alma just walk out of here like that,” Todd mutters as he pushes my bedroom door open and sticks his head in. Alma is long gone but I can tell from the look on my brother’s face that he’s been seething ever since she walked out the front door.

  “Why don’t you go back to writing your books, Todd, and leave me the fuck alone?”

  Todd shakes his head in disgust. “I’ll do you one better, kid. I’m leaving.”

  “Where are you going?”

  “I’m hanging out with Dax and the guys at the Phoenix for the rest of the day. So don’t wait up for me.”

  I hadn’t heard of any plans for the guys to get together but, whatever. I’ve been out of the loop for the last two days, stewing in my guilt and anger and not wanting to talk to anyone. It’s almost like my breakdown years ago when Todd left Hollywood to make sure I was alright. Only this time I’m not looking like some homeless dude walking around with unkempt hair living in the back of his truck and waving a gun around in the desert.

  There’s no need for a gun this time. My guilt at failing to help Alma and putting her life in danger was enough for me.

  But Todd’s got a point. I am being an idiot for letting her go. And if ever there was a champion for me the way I tried to be Drew’s, it’s Todd. He’s never given up on me, no matter how mean I can sometimes be to him. He’s always been there for me, no matter what, although not in a doormat kind of way. He gives tough love when he has to and has always been fair. He’s the one to see reason when all I want to do is beat the s
hit out of whoever did me wrong. Todd would part heaven and earth to get to me if he has to. He’s even written about it, in a space opera kind of way.

  He doesn’t know it but I’ve read all his books about a dark-haired space Marine who may not be the most likable guy in the galaxy but he’s courageous and loyal, and would do anything for his friends. True to every character decisions I’ve made in all our years of role-playing, Villy, as the hero’s nickname goes, prefers tactical strength and military strategy over good looks. But he’s also got a heart of gold and apparently is popular with the ladies, especially alien ones with purple eyes and talented tongues. It’s not every day one can say they’re the inspiration behind one of their brother’s hit series, but no matter how much I fuck up in real life, somehow I’m Todd’s. Unfortunately, pushing Alma away just might be the last straw and I fear for hero Villy’s life in upcoming books.

  I step out of my bedroom and head to the living room. It’s bright and sunny outside, the reflection casting the place in a more upbeat light than I remember it since I stormed back home a few days ago. This was the first earthship Todd and I built and it’s almost whimsical in its design as we muddled our way through the blueprints we purchased. But it also represents my healing, of me winning against my demons, my darkness. And maybe for Todd, this place represents almost the same thing, just the other side of the coin, of seeing his baby brother alive. But while the VA, Todd, and Sage were instrumental in my healing, there’s no denying that the biggest job was mine. I had to open the doors and let the light in.

  So why the fuck am I inviting the darkness back in?

  Will it truly atone for my sins of wanting my best friend’s wife and leaving her in harm’s way when I refused to come back? Would my return have stopped Drew from pulling the trigger? Do I honestly believe I could have steered him to get more help when my previous attempts never worked? I’ll never know the answers and no one else will either. All I’ll have are conjecture, guilt and blame—all set to the maximum.

  Things don’t have to be this way. In the end, only I can make that choice.

  Alma is standing by the window when I arrive at the Willow. I can see her watching me as I park the truck and get out. She’s wearing a light blue top and denim shorts, her hair pulled back in a pony tail. Her skin has gotten more tanned the longer she’s lived in Taos and it suits her. It brings out the copper streaks in her brown hair and the glow on her cheeks. But she doesn’t exactly look happy when she sees me. Her gaze is doubtful, questioning and she’s got every right to be.

  Todd was right. I was an idiot. I chose to focus on the negative instead of the positive, the dark instead of the light, the past when the present is perfect the way it is. Just when Alma thought she’d found someone to believe in, he lost all belief in himself and everything else.

  I look up at the painted sign above the door, at the butterfly that replaces the dot in the I in Willow. Alma knew this would be the place where she’d start again, just like I promised her. And yet I pulled the rug from under her, forcing her to focus on the past and what could have been instead of appreciating the present, of what we could be.

  A family.

  Drew would like that; I know it now. This is how he’d like to see Alma and Tyler, happy in a place where they can grow and thrive and be among friends. And I almost messed it up.

  I push open the door and see Alma standing by one of the planters. She’s got gardening gloves on and looks like she just got done planting something.

  “Hey,” she says, bits of soil clings to her knees and when she notices my gaze, she shrugs. “I’ll take care of that later. Tyler’s at Dax and Harlow’s for another two hours. I figure I might as well take advantage of the time alone and find the perfect spot to plant the macadamia plant you gave me.” She points to the space where a dark green plant stands by itself.

  “That’s a good spot.” I watch her remove her gloves and dust the soil from her kneecaps. “I hope you like the scent of jasmine.”

  “I do. Why?”

  “Because macadamia flowers smell pretty strong, so be ready.”

  “I will, although to be honest, I just want the nuts right now,” she says, chuckling. “I can’t wait to harvest them.”

  I grin. “Patience, little grasshopper. You’ll need to wait until they fall to the ground and turn brown to harvest them. Easier that way. Dried and ready to go.”

  “I’ll remember that.”

  For the next few minutes, we stand in front of each other without speaking. I know I should start saying something. After all, I’m the one who came over.

  “I came to apologize for being a jerk to you the last two days. I’m sorry for walking out on you at the job site and not returning your calls.” I pause, trying to find the right words. “I wish I could make it up to you, Al.”

  “You are,” she says. “You’re here.”

  I close the distance between us and take her hands between mine. “I want to be a better man for you. I want to be the best man I can ever be for you and Ty.”

  She smiles wryly. “You can’t do that if you keep walking out on me.”

  “No, I can’t.”

  “I walked out on life when Drew died,” she says softly. “I took the blame for his death even though it wasn’t my fault. I took on the guilt of failing him, so I know how you feel. But I also know it was wrong and I wasted a full year letting my guilt and shame win. But then, you reminded me who I really was by believing in me. Because of you, I’ve never been happier.” Her voice cracks and she chuckles dryly. “Well, until a few days ago when you disappeared on me.”

  I cup her face in my hands. “When I saw those pictures of you from the hospital, I couldn’t get the thought out of my mind, no matter how hard I tried. All I could think of was… what if the worse happened?”

  “But it didn’t happen,” she murmurs. “Instead, thanks to you, Ty and I are here… in a new home, living a new life, and we couldn’t be happier. Can you accept that? That even though things were bad, they worked out in the end. It led me here—to you. It doesn’t mean Drew’s gone forever. It doesn’t mean I’m going to forget him. I’ll never forget him. He’ll always be a part of me… of us.”

  I catch my breath as she says the last two words. How could I be so blind to only think of myself the last two days? She’s right. Although the worst could have happened, it didn’t. I lower my head and kiss her, the taste of her lips returning everything in my world right where they belonged, her in my arms, her heart beating against my chest, and my love for her right in her hands. Alma Thomas has me completely—heart, body, and soul.

  “I love you, Al.”

  Alma pulls away, not saying anything. Her eyes study me, her fingers tracing the outline of my cheekbone, the rise of my lower lip. “I love you, too, Sawyer,” she whispers, her gaze locked with mine. “Promise me you’ll talk to me next time before you run off like that and end up giving me a heart attack?”

  I smile, kissing her again and breathing my response against her mouth. “I promise.” As she kisses me back, her tongue slipping between my teeth, her arms circling the back of my neck, I can’t believe how perfect she feels in my arms. She smells of roses and sunlight, of hope and countless tomorrows.

  She pulls away, studying me.

  “What are you looking at?” I ask, wanting to take this moment further, preferably into the bedroom.

  “You know, for all your tough guy exterior, you wear your heart on your sleeve, Sawyer Villier,” she says. “You may not know it, but you do.”

  “Ah, wonderful.” I wrap my arms around her waist and pull her to me. “There goes all my Marine training. Wasted in the arms of a woman.”

  “I have a suggestion for better use of your Marine training,” she whispers.

  “What’s that?”

  She stands on her tiptoes, her mouth by my ear. “I’ve got an hour before I have to pick up Tyler, and from my understanding of this place, the bedroom offers a bit more privacy. And a king-s
ized bed that’s to die for.”

  I study her face, noting the sparkle in her hazel eyes. “Really?”

  She nods, giggling. “Really.”

  “Well, in that case, we better get started. Time’s a-wasting.” I bend down and pick her up, swinging her legs over my arms as her laughter fills the room.

  Eight Months Later

  Alma

  It’s chaos everywhere I look. But it’s a happy kind of chaos, one that accompanies an extended family like the Drexels. Harlow once told me that she’d found the true meaning of family when she met Dax because you just didn’t get the guy in the deal, you got his family, too. And extended family at that if you add Sawyer and Todd, and Gabe, Dax’s best friend, and his family.

  This time, I finally get to meet Nana, Dax’s grandmother, the woman who kept him in line before he met Harlow—the same woman who also kept Sawyer in line, apparently, judging from the stories I’ve heard.

  Story goes, she caught him rummaging through her recyclables looking for cans and bottles to use for his first earthship and she mistook him for a homeless soul. Thinking he must be starving, too, she invited him to join them for dinner and I guess he never really left. She calls him mijo, my son, like Dax and Gabe.

  Taos isn’t perfect. It’s a small town—sometimes too small—but I can see why everyone loves it here whether they’re Taoseños like Nana or from out of state like Sawyer and Harlow. It’s not just the clean air, the bluest skies and the puffiest clouds, the people make it even more special… and the food. I’m not even going to argue. Nana makes the best New Mexican food. Green chile on everything except maybe on sopapillas. For that, it’s honey drizzled on top while still warm.