Unbroken Rules (The Rules Series Book 3) Read online

  Copyright © 2019 by Eliah Greenwood

  www.eliahgreenwood.com

  If you are reading this book and did not purchase it, it has been pirated and you are committing a crime. Delete it from your device and support the author by purchasing a legal copy.

  This book is a work of fiction. Any references to historical events, real people or real places are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places, and events are products of the author’s imagination, and any resemblance to actual events or places or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher.

  Editing by One Love Editing

  IBSN: 978-1-9994390-5-7

  First printing edition 2019.

  Reality Survivor Publishing (Eliah Greenwood)

  Contents

  Prologue

  1. Fresh Start

  2. Competition

  3. Surprises

  4. Deadlines

  5. New Place

  6. Sooner Or Later

  7. Laundry

  8. Never Have I Ever

  9. Mistakes

  10. Blackmail

  11. Busted

  12. Before The Storm

  13. Closer

  14. Forever

  15. Broken

  16. Regrets

  17. Unexpected

  18. Drunk Call

  19. Risks

  20. Explanation

  21. On Hold

  22. One Last Fight

  23. One Last Lie

  24. One More Truth

  25. One Last Night

  26. One Last Try

  27. One Last Call

  28. Confession

  29. Back Together

  30. If It Can’t Be Me

  31. Leaving You

  Time Lapse

  32. Replaced

  33. The New Boyfriend

  34. Nothing But The Truth

  35. Stuck With You

  36. Polaroid

  37. Wake-Up Call

  38. Last Chance

  Epilogue

  All the links you need!

  Also By Eliah Greenwood

  Acknowledgments

  For the people who mess up, but keep trying. Never stop trying.

  Prologue

  HAZE

  THEN

  I used to think police stations were cool. At least, in the movies. Fourteen-year-old me thought they represented hope: a place where justice was served. But now that I was sitting in one, with my sister’s blood drying on my shirt, they weren’t cool, or impressive.

  They were a fucking nightmare.

  “Your parents are on their way, kid,” the fifty-year-old-looking officer had said to me, his eyes filled with… something. Something I couldn’t quite recognize at the time. I remembered seeing it in Vic’s mother eyes when she’d asked me if I saw my father often, and I’d said no. I didn’t know then that I’d be seeing it for the rest of my life.

  This pity.

  The pity that crawls up your throat when a fourteen-year-old boy just watched his baby sister bleed to death.

  Sure, Tanner, my mother, and my bastard of a father were on their way, but for the past twenty minutes, I’d been alone. Alone, scared, terrified, empty.

  “We’ll find the monsters who did this,” one of the police officers had said to me once I’d told him everything. They thought I wouldn’t hear them when they’d whispered, “Most likely the same dirtbags who robbed a couple houses on the south side. We don’t think they were trying to kill anyone. Clearly didn’t know the kids were home. These two were just in the wrong place at the wrong time.”

  So, Des was collateral damage? An accident? The unexpected bump in the road of their evil plan?

  Fuck them. Fuck all of them.

  I stared blankly into empty space, thinking of her fingers wrapped around mine before the end. Before she’d closed her eyes and left me behind. Lost. Without her.

  Glancing down at my feet, I shivered in my seat, the ice-cold temperature digging into my bones. It was like every good thing, every light, every trace of hope had disappeared from the planet when she had.

  Drained, I ignored the furtive looks the officer kept on giving me. They seemed scared. Of what? That I’d snap, lose it, wreck everything? Or did they feel guilty that it wasn’t them? That they had this somehow “okay” life compared to the fucking mess that was mine?

  They could feel bad for me all they wanted. I knew they’d never really care. Why would they? They didn’t know her. They didn’t make her laugh, see her toothless smile. They didn’t read her bedtime stories or teach her to swim. They weren’t the one she came running to when she had nightmares. They hadn’t promised to one day stand up to her potential bullies and kick some guy’s ass for breaking her heart.

  But that’s the thing with tragedies. You don’t care about the pain until it’s yours. You can’t cry someone else’s tears or fight someone else’s battles. And there are no apologies in the world, no sympathetic smiles, no pat on the back that can change the truth—your pain belongs to you and you only.

  How ironic that the thing that kills you is the one thing you can’t share.

  I remember the moment I saw my parents come in. They should’ve made me feel better but only poured salt into my wounds. The expression in my father’s eyes ended me. The hatred. The blame.

  I remember Tanner wrapping his arms around me. My mother’s eyes were teary. But I knew she wouldn’t let herself cry in public. She never had before and sure as hell wouldn’t start now. I buried my face into my brother’s neck and surrendered to a panic attack. I bawled my eyes out, crying like a baby. I couldn’t see, but I didn’t want to. I’d never want to. Not if it meant seeing a world without Desiree.

  Never, in my entire life, had I cried in front of my father. Showing that kind of weakness had been forbidden to us since we were kids. It was a disgrace in our family. But I didn’t care. Because I finally understood. What people said about grief? They were right.

  That kind of pain will change you forever.

  Not a word was uttered by my dad. Not even a look. Tanner didn’t move. He held me tighter. Then, my father muttered something about how I should’ve been a man. I cried harder.

  “We’ll fix it, brother, I promise,” Tanner whispered as I sobbed. “I’ll train you.”

  I had no clue what it meant at the time. But I couldn’t be bothered to think further into it. My glazed eyes swept around the packed and agitated room, and the officer’s words echoed in my mind.

  “We’ll find the monsters who did this.”

  Marcus. His name is Marcus, I’d said.

  And I knew, if they didn’t find him…

  I would.

  1

  Fresh Start

  WINTER

  NOW

  “How much longer?” my crybaby of a boyfriend whines, laying his head on my shoulder and dragging out a long sigh. Watching the clouds ruin my every chance of catching a view through the window, I ignore the tingling of Haze’s breath against my neck and press my cheek to the top of his head. Bouncing his leg like a deprived crack addict, Haze continues to make sleeping impossible for me. He’s been at it since the plane took off.

  “The flight’s two hours and forty-five minutes. We left two hours ago. Do I need to teach you basic math, Adams?”

  A smirk stretches his lips, and he hooks a finger in one of the belt loops of my jeans, angling his head so that his mouth hits my ear. “Meet me in the bathroom in five and you can teach me anything you want, baby.”

  Oh, and he’s also been one hell of a tease.

  “Why did I ask you to come with me again?” I slap his hand away.

  “Please don’t pretend like this isn’t the happiest day of your life,” he laughs and leans back into his seat. As much as I’m tempted to deny his claims, I know he’s right. This is the happiest day of my life—no matter how much shit I give him for leaving with no luggage, or changing his mind at the last minute, I’m over the moon right now. Haze is coming with me. He’s moving to Canada. Did you hear that, brain?

  I don’t think it’ll really sink in until I wake up next to him tomorrow.

  “What were you thinking getting on a plane with a dead phone?” I mock. He forgot to charge it last night and clearly didn’t expect to board a plane this morning. Not that I blame him. We were all exhausted after the day we’d had. No one more than me. Almost dying will do that to you. “We have like forty-five minutes left. Try to sleep.”

  Haze scoffs. “How the fuck am I supposed to sleep with the apocalypse next to my ear?”

  I smother a laugh. Next to us is a sixty-year-old-looking woman whose snores are so loud, we jumped in our seats when she started fifteen minutes ago.

  “Hey, do you have mints?” Haze glances at the carry-on bag at my feet.

  “Sure.” I reach for my bag.

  As soon as I give him what he asked for, his eyes trail to the woman and her wide-open mouth. We can smell her bad breath every time she exhales.

  Oh my God.

  “Don’t you dare!”

  He laughs and throws the mint into his own mouth. “You’re no fun, Mom.”

  My eyes divert back to the window. Since we didn’t book our flights at the same time, our seats were in completely different sections. Haze wasn’t having it. He ended up paying some cranky guy who absolutely wanted to keep his seat by the window fifty dollars just to switch seats with him.

  “So, what should I expect? Are we going to freeze to death the second we get to Toronto?” he asks, running his fingers up and down my lap.

  “What? Of course not. We’re in June. The snow just finished melting.”

  “Hold on.” He pauses. “You mean there’s no snow?”

  The look of shock on his face sends me into a fit of giggles.

  “Nope. Not until November. What did you think? That we had snow all year long or something?”

  “Pretty much, yeah.” He shrugs.

  “Sure, and we drink maple syrup for breakfast and ride polar bears.”

  Haze’s eyes widen. “No way? That’s great. How expensive are igloos this time a year? Rent’s not too high?”

  I break into laughter at the awful stereotype that came out of his mouth. Man, this guy needs a lesson on Canada, and he needs it fast.

  “What about your folks? Are they okay with us staying with them until we find our own place?”

  Relief fills me. We haven’t really talked about our living arrangements in Toronto although moving in together seemed to me like the most logical thing to do. After all, Haze left his entire life behind just so we could be together. I’d hardly see us living separately. I’m glad he feels this way. Because that apartment is not a maybe, it’s a must. There’s no way Lauren, my oh so sweet mother, will let me live at home, let alone with a boyfriend. She’s made it clear before I left for Florida that when I came back, it was time to move out. You’re eighteen now. You’re an adult. Time to act like one.

  Harry, the man that I’ve called my dad my whole life, disagrees, convinced that I’ll need all the financial help I can get while I’m in college. I know he’ll put up a fight for me, but my mom will probably end up winning. She always does.

  “I’m sure they won’t mind us staying for a few weeks,” I say, the bitter taste of a lie lingering on my tongue.

  Truth is, they have no idea Haze is coming.

  Simply because they have no idea he exists.

  My plan: show up on their doorstep with him and hope to hell they’ll let us stay. We only need a place to crash until we move into an apartment that’ll preferably be close to my school and the job I have yet to find. I would’ve told my mom about him given the opportunity, but I can’t remember the last time I spoke with her. It must’ve been at the beginning of my trip. When exactly was I supposed to slide into our nonexistent conversations that I have a boyfriend?

  “Okay, so fill me in on your family drama. What’s the Kingstons’ story?” Haze steadies his elbow on the arm rest and props his chin in the palm of his hand. I smile at his cautious and focused expression.

  Crazy to think that, while Haze knows every little stupid detail there is to know about me, he doesn’t know much about my life back home. Knowing my favorite color, first pet’s name, and favorite band doesn’t tell him what’s waiting for him once we get off that plane. Yet, he chose to come with me. We’ve talked about my family a few times in the past. But compared to our conversations about his family, we’ve barely scratched the surface.

  “Meh, it’s nothing special, really. Mom had me when she was sixteen. She raised me by herself until she met Harry, my stepfather. They got married. He’d just lost his wife to cancer, and he already had a kid of his own, Jaden, who’s fourteen now. We’re technically not related, but we grew up together, so we consider each other siblings. Then, five years ago, my sister, Maika, was born.”

  “So, you and your sister share a mother?” Haze asks.

  I nod, omitting to tell him that while we were brought into this world by the same woman, that woman treats us completely differently. With Maika, she’s this caring, sweet mom. With me? Don’t even get me started.

  “When my Dad got sent to Seattle for his work, my parents decided to ship me to Maria until I graduated, as you know. My mom followed him, since she’d just been laid off, while Jaden and Maika stayed with their grandma, Harry’s mom. They just got back.”

  “Why didn’t you stay at your grandma’s place, too?”

  “That’s the thing. She’s not my grandma. She says I’m not her granddaughter since I don’t have Harry’s blood in my veins.”

  Haze winces.

  “Yep, that’s the usual reaction.” I crack a laugh.

  My stepfather’s mother was always narrow-minded. She believes people that get married should spend the rest of their lives together, no matter if they’re happy or not. In her eyes, holy matrimony should be sacred and a vow of eternity. She was always against my father remarrying. They didn’t talk for years when she first told him she’d never see me as her granddaughter as I came from his second marriage. Harry’s dad, on the contrary, is kind and sweet, which, in my opinion, played a big part in his son turning out all right.

  Haze reaches for my hand. “And the rest of your family?”

  “You already know them. Maria, Kendrick, and Kass. They’re all I have on my mom’s side.”

  “What about your mother’s parents?”

  “They died before I was born. Car crash. My mom said they wanted to put me into the system. They thought she was too young to take care of a baby.”

  Haze keeps quiet for a while, as though he’s trapped in his own thoughts. Then, he speaks.

  “Wow, both our families suck.”

  I give a faint laugh.

  “Tell me about it.”

  “Can I ask what happened to your biological father? You know… why he isn’t around?” His tone hints at how hesitant he is. He’s right to be. I usually change the topic whenever someone brings up my sperm donor, but somehow, right now, with Haze’s compassionate blue eyes pointed at me, I don’t want to.

  “I don’t know much. My mom said he was one of the bad kids. Came from the wrong side of the tracks. He was nineteen when they met. Then he just took off running the second she told him about me. Like I said, nothing special.” A sharp pain cuts through my chest, and my eyes drop to my feet.

  This feeling right here. That’s why. Why I’ve desperately avoided this moment ever since I could talk.

  “Hey, look at me.” Haze’s voice is low but firm. “Look at me.”

  I finally do.

  “I’m sorry I wasn’t there to kick his ass.”

  Smiling, I reach over to place a quick peck on his mouth, which results in Haze pulling me back in for the real deal. His lips move slowly against mine, but just like every damn time he kisses me, my heart wants to come out of my chest and say hi.

  “So, your siblings, cute or monsters?” he asks when we pull away for air.

  “Maika is definitely cute. And Jay… He hates everyone. Puberty and all. Last I heard, he wasn’t hanging out with the best crowd.”

  Haze scoffs. “Look at you. Worried about your brother hanging out with the wrong crowd when you’re practically dating a criminal.”

  My mouth drops. “Can you say that any louder?”

  “Sure.” The bastard clears his throat, “You’re worried about your brother hanging out with the bad ki—”

  Laughing harder than I should, I slam my hand against his mouth. “Are you insane? Do you want them to think we’re trying to hijack the plane?”

  As soon as I set his mouth free, his eyes grow as though he’s just realized something.

  “About that. I forgot the bomb.”

  I don’t think I’ve ever punched him this hard.

  A small gasp erupts next to us.

  Great. Snoring lady is awake.