The Rules for Breaking Read online

  “Yes. Let me try it on my own.” My voice sounds shaky, but I can’t help it.

  Ethan peels his body away from mine and it’s agonizing, like slowly pulling off a Band-Aid.

  I stand on my own, still aiming the gun at the target, and try to control my trembling limbs. I concentrate on that pit of fear in my belly. It churns and spins and makes me dizzy so I push it down. It will not control me. I will not live in fear. I will not lose this new life I have.

  “Show me how to put the bullets in.”

  Rules for disappearing

  by Witness Protection prisoner #18A7R04M:

  Do not go to parties or any other non–school-related activity….

  New rule by Anna Boyd:

  When you finally get the life you want, enjoy every moment of it, or what’s the point?

  celebrating. Not only did I load the gun but I fired it. I could only handle pulling the trigger once, but it was a huge victory nevertheless.

  It’s the first time I’ve been back to Will’s house since the night of the Mardi Gras dance after-party. Will is Ethan’s best friend, who also happens to be dating my best friend, Catherine.

  It’s us plus another couple and we’re hanging out around his pool, listening to music.

  Normal. Just another normal night in this normal life.

  Catherine drops down beside me. “So do I call you Annie Oakley now?”

  I giggle and answer, “Yes. Consider me armed and dangerous.”

  Will and Catherine were also there the night I passed out, so I didn’t hesitate telling them about conquering that fear this morning.

  Catherine leans close and whispers, “Okay, I wasn’t going to say anything but you’re carrying around luggage again. You haven’t let that bag out of your sight all week. Something I should know about?”

  Oh, crap. She noticed, too. And just as the journal that’s stashed safely in my bag pops in my head, I reach down to feel for the hard edges.

  “It’s just my purse. You carry yours everywhere, too.”

  She shakes her head. “Spill it.”

  The interest in my purse goes back to the go-bag. We were pulled from placements so often in the program that sometimes we didn’t have time to pack. So I started carrying a bag with essential items for Teeny and me. I was never without it and it always turned up in conversation.

  “It’s nothing. I just got so used to carrying around my bag, it’s a hard habit to break.”

  Thankfully, we’re interrupted when Emma and Ben show up.

  “I still can’t believe we’re all hanging out again,” Catherine says to me in a low voice. “I keep waiting for her to do something to piss me off.”

  “I know,” I reply quietly. Ethan’s twin sister, Emma, was not my biggest fan when I moved to this town, especially when her brother and I started hanging out.

  Emma moves near us, obviously nervous, and I nod for her to sit down in the chair beside me.

  “Hey,” she says quietly.

  “Hey!” Catherine and I answer back, probably more enthusiastically than necessary. It’s awkward at first but it doesn’t take long before we’re talking about school and who’s hooking up and how we’re all ready for high school to finally be over.

  Well, I’m the only one not ready for that last part. I don’t want all of us to be scattered to different colleges. Ethan and I have talked vaguely of our future plans but nothing has been decided.

  The guys join us and Ethan lifts me out of my chair, and then sits me back down in his lap. If I’m acting different this week, so is he. It seems like the more nervous or distant I get, the closer and more touchy-feely he gets.

  Not that I’m complaining.

  Will sits on the arm of Catherine’s chair. “Okay, so next weekend we head to the Gulf to hang at Pearl’s cabin. I say we cut class Friday and get a head start.”

  Pearl is Ethan’s aunt and owns the local pizzeria. Even though Dad said I didn’t have to continue working for her once we got out of the program, I’m still there almost every day after school. And Teeny’s usually there with me making pizzas in the back.

  “Sounds good to me,” Ben answers.

  Catherine pokes her bottom lip out. “I can’t cut any more days or I may not graduate.”

  Ethan leans me to one side so he can dig around in his pocket, pulling his keys out. “These are stabbing into my leg.”

  I realize a few seconds too late that he plans on putting his keys in my purse. The journal is on top so there is no way he won’t see it.

  “Wait!” I grab for my bag, snagging the strap out of his hand, but I leaned too far over and fall out of his lap.

  The journal lands on the floor practically at Ethan’s feet. I dive for it, but he beats me to it.

  To make matters worse, the taped-up note Thomas left drifts to the ground right between us.

  It’s in his hands and he’s reading it before I can even think about what to do. He is going to freak out. Big time.

  Everyone is quiet.

  Ethan’s eyes find mine and he’s not just freaked out. He’s pissed.

  “Is this what I think it is?” he asks.

  Catherine moves to his side and peeks over his shoulder, reading the note.

  Her eyes get big as saucers. “Is this the journal you lost? How’d you get it back? Who’s ‘T’?”

  The rest of the group surrounds us, all wanting to see the note and journal and hear my explanation.

  “Yes, it is and I don’t know what the ‘T’ is for. That’s just how the note was signed.” It’s a lame answer and Ethan, at least, knows it. Of course the T is for Thomas, the only name I knew him by.

  “When and where did you get this?” His voice sounds a bit like a growl.

  “Last weekend. Here, at the party after the dance.” I finally meet Ethan’s gaze. “I don’t know if you remember this or not, but when we were sitting in that lounge chair,” I say, pointing to the other side of the pool, “someone bumped into us. I think that’s when he put it in the pocket of my coat. I found it there not long after that.”

  “Here?” Will yells. “That son of a bitch came to my house! Did any of y’all see him?” he asks our friends.

  Everyone shakes their head.

  “Did you see him, Anna?” Ethan asks.

  “No.”

  Disappointment sets in his face. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  I deflate next to him. “I knew you would make me tell my dad. And the suits.”

  “Well, of course you have to tell them,” Catherine says and pulls me into a hug. “This guy is a nut job. Why would he give it back? I’m not buying that bullshit in the note. He wants something.”

  Ethan drops the journal and note back into my purse. “Anna, we have to go tell your dad. Right now.”

  “I’ll come with you,” Catherine offers. Will, Emma, and Ben offer to come along as well.

  “Thanks, guys. But I don’t want to ruin everyone’s night.” I nod at Ethan and walk toward his truck.

  We don’t speak to each other until we’re both inside.

  “I can’t believe you’ve had this all week and didn’t tell me. This is a big deal, Anna. And I guess that’s what this morning was about—you think you’re some match for this guy? He’s a professional killer. You could barely touch that gun this morning.”

  He slams his hand on the steering wheel, letting out a string of curses.

  I don’t want to tell Dad. At all. But with everyone knowing about the journal, there’s no way it won’t come out now. The way this small town works, I bet it will be all over the school by Monday. Half the kids there still call me Meg—the last fake name the suits gave me. This will not help. If…when …I get back to school, no one will probably come near me.

  “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. I ju
st don’t want anything to change.”

  He reaches for my hand and I grab on to his. As mad as he is, I know it’s mostly because he’s scared about what this might mean. Does Thomas want something else from me? And will the suits try to move us away?

  So much for my normal life.

  Rules for disappearing

  by Witness Protection prisoner #18A7R04M:

  Most mistakes are made when you think no one is watching. And someone is always watching.

  New rule by Anna Boyd:

  If someone is always watching, don’t bother hiding. You’re just going to a lot of trouble for nothing.

  did exactly what I thought he would do when we told him about the journal—he got pissed then called Agent Williams, the lead suit on our case.

  The journal and note are in a plastic bag, as instructed, sitting on the coffee table. Agent Williams is coming to Natchitoches to get the journal.

  Ethan paces around the room while Dad stews in his chair by the window. Thankfully, Teeny is still asleep.

  “You need to make a list of everyone you know who touched your journal,” Dad says in a quiet voice.

  “Why?” I squeak out.

  “Because Agent Williams is going to run the cover and pages for prints, hoping to find some trace of…Thomas. There are other prints there—mine, yours, Ethan’s, and whoever else touched it—and he needs to weed those prints out.”

  I’m curled up on the couch, trying not to be totally depressed. And scared. Agent Williams is coming back and I don’t know what that means. “Teeny may have touched it at some point,” I add.

  “When will he be here?” Ethan asks.

  “In a day or so. That’s the soonest he can manage. Until then, I want both of you to be extremely careful.” Dad holds up his hand, stopping me before I can interrupt him. “And I know what you’re going to say, Anna. I don’t care that it’s been a week and nothing else has happened. This guy is a killer. I want you staying close to home. Maybe even stay home from school until Agent Williams gets here.”

  I burst up from the couch, pissed, and run to my room. It’s already started. My freedom is slipping away and the suits haven’t even gotten here yet. Throwing myself across my bed, I bury my face in my pillow.

  It’s only a few minutes later when Ethan knocks on the door and pokes his head inside. “Can I come in?”

  I nod and turn my head away from the door. I feel the bed dip when he sits down beside me.

  The silence is heavy.

  I glance around the room, absorbing each little piece of my time here. Photos cover a corkboard next to my dressing table showing new friends from Natchitoches next to the old ones from Scottsdale that I don’t have to hide anymore. A poster from a concert in Shreveport cozies up next to one promoting the Mardi Gras Ball I snagged from school. Mementos litter the dresser: a napkin from our favorite restaurant, tickets from the chick flick I dragged Ethan to, and a flyer from Pearl’s Pizzeria. It’s the room of a girl savoring every moment of freedom she has.

  “I’m done running away.”

  Ethan lies down next to me, linking his fingers with mine. “You don’t know that they’ll make you leave.” He pauses a moment before saying, “Would you have ever told me about the note?”

  I turn around and face him, our noses just inches apart. “I’m not sure. I’d be lying if I said this doesn’t scare me. It does. It scares me to death. I don’t know what the suits are going to do. I don’t know if this warrants putting us back in protection. But if that’s what they want, I don’t think hiding is the answer. He found us before, and he’d find us again.”

  Ethan whispers, “You have to promise me something. Don’t do anything risky. Promise me you’ll play this safe. We’ll figure it all out later but you have to be safe now.”

  I want to give my word that I’ll do everything he’s asking for right now. But I can’t. I don’t know what the next few days hold, but I won’t sit back and be a victim of my own life. I couldn’t do it before and I sure as hell won’t do it now.

  “Okay. I’ll try.”

  Dad is true to his word; he’s not letting me out of his sight this morning. Even when I move from the kitchen to the den, he’s right behind me.

  Teeny watches him pace back and forth around the room, looking out of the window every five minutes. “Dad, you’re acting like a freak this morning.” She’s lying across the couch, the book in her hand forgotten for the moment.

  We haven’t told her what’s going on. She’ll find out soon enough and she might as well enjoy the last day of freedom. For her, I want reality to wait.

  I gesture for him to knock it off—act normal—but he ignores me.

  “Sissy, can we stop by Georgia’s house on the way to the store today? She’s letting me borrow a book and I want to start it tonight.”

  Since today is Sunday, it’s also grocery store day. On Sundays, I always make a menu for the week and shop for what we need. I found out really quickly that having a plan is better than winging it. I’ve been playing Mom for longer than I like to think about and this was a hard-learned lesson.

  “The shopping can wait,” Dad says from the corner of the room. “I thought, maybe, you both would like to come to work with me today.”

  We try not to look at him like that’s the dumbest thing in the world he could have said. Dad still works at the factory where the suits stuck him when he first moved to Natchitoches. He’s not on the assembly line floor anymore, he’s in the accounting office, but I’m still really surprised he stayed since he could have easily gotten a better job. Maybe he felt uneasy working for another CPA firm after he found out his old firm was laundering money for drug dealers right under his nose.

  “Are you serious?” Teeny screeches. “I only have two days off from school each week and there is no way I’m spending them hanging out in your little office at the factory. Please.”

  Even though Teeny sounds like a complete brat, Dad and I smile. She hid in her shell for the majority of last year and any emotion—even bratty—is welcome. It means she’s back to her regular self.

  I just pray she doesn’t relapse when Agent Williams shows.

  Teeny goes back to her book and Dad motions for me to follow him to the kitchen. I’m barely through the door when he says, “I need to take care of some work so I’m free when Agent Williams gets here. He just called and said he’d be here just before noon tomorrow.”

  “Dad, we can stay here. I’ll lock the door.”

  He’s shaking his head before I finish. “No. That is not acceptable.”

  “What if we hang out at Ethan’s while you’re gone?”

  His face is unreadable while he considers this. “You go to Ethan’s and you come straight back here when I call you and tell you I’m home. Nowhere else. Do I have your word?”

  I nod. “I’ll call him and tell him to come pick us up.”

  Ethan is more than happy for us to hang out. He’s as worried as I am about what tomorrow will bring and it’s hard not to think today could be our last day together for a while.

  Teeny talks the entire way to Ethan’s. She’s sandwiched between us in the front seat and is going on and on about some drama in her class between her friend, Georgia, and the boy she likes named Jimmy.

  It’s a good thing it doesn’t take long to get to Ethan’s.

  Teeny runs in the house as soon as she jumps out of the truck but Ethan holds me back. “For today, let’s not talk about what’s going on or try to guess what will happen next.”

  “Or act like this might be our last day together?” I ask.

  “No matter what, this won’t be our last day together,” he answers, his voice full of emotion. “Let’s try for a normal day, okay?”

  “Okay.”

  I love the feeling I get when I’m at Ethan’s house. Homey. Relaxed.
Safe. I want a normal day more than anything else and I know this is the perfect place to get it.

  It’s not long before Teeny and Mrs. Landry are baking cookies while Ethan and I settle in for a movie marathon.

  Later that afternoon, just after Mrs. Landry invites us to stay for dinner, my phone starts ringing. I have to dig past the plastic bag–covered journal in my bag to find my phone. I’m not sure why I brought it with me. Even though it makes me feel nervous and sick, I can’t let it go.

  I find my phone just before the call went to voice mail.

  “Hello.”

  “Where are you?” Dad all but screams on the other end.

  “At Ethan’s. Why?”

  “Did you come home at all after you left with him this morning?”

  He’s frantic on the phone and it’s terrifying to hear.

  “No! We’ve been here all day. Just like you said! Why?”

  “Stay there. Don’t move. Someone’s been here. In the house. I’m calling the cops,” Dad says.

  “What?” I scream.

  Ethan’s head is close to mine, listening to Dad, and Teeny sticks her head out from the kitchen. It’s obvious something is terribly wrong. And I can tell by her face, she’s heard more of this than I wanted her to know.

  “It has to be him! Who else could it be?” Dad’s voice catches when he says, “And the journal’s gone. If there were any prints there to identify him, it’s gone now.”

  My eyes dart to my bag. “No. It’s not. The journal is with me, in my bag.”

  “Sissy, what’s happening?” Teeny asks.

  I pull her close to me and tell her what’s happened in as few words as possible.

  “I want to see Dad,” she says.

  Even though Dad told us to wait, Ethan, Teeny, and I run from the Landry’s house to Ethan’s truck parked outside.

  Expecting Ethan to crank the truck, I throw on my seat belt, but he sits still in his seat, staring at the cup holders.

  “My remote to the farm is gone.”

  “What?” I lift my bag from off the floorboard. “Maybe it fell, like before.” I search under the seat but it’s not there.