Page 27 of Unwritten Rules (Rules 1)

“Thanks for letting me spend the night.”

“Don’t thank me. Haze is free to bring home whoever he wants.” He grins, insinuating that I did more than “spend the night.”

I’m about to tell him he’s wrong when he speaks again.

“So what exactly are you to my brother?” He narrows his eyes, staring at me intently. “Friend? Special friend?”

I make a face. Even the word friend sounds like too much.

“We’re not sleeping together if that’s what you’re asking. And I don’t really know, to be honest. We’re acquaintances at most.”

“So he invited you over because you’re nothing to him?” He frowns, clearly not buying my story.

“I was in trouble, and he offered me a place to stay. He was trying to help. Nothing more. Is the interrogation over?” I try a joke, and he laughs faintly.

“I’m sorry. It’s just…” He pauses. “My brother never, and I mean never, brings a girl home. You can’t blame me for being curious.”

If I was drinking water right now, I’d probably be choking.

“Oh, come on. You can’t seriously expect me to fall for that?” I shake my head, the conversation I overheard between Bianca and him yesterday coming back to me. Haze is no saint.

“I know what you’re thinking. You’d assume with all the girls throwing themselves at him, he’d bring a different girl home every night. Well, he doesn’t—he goes to their place. But bringing them here? Don’t even think about it.”

Well, that’s weird.

I don’t reply, smiling awkwardly.

“Do you know about him?” He raises an eyebrow.

“You mean, do I know about the fights? Yeah. I do.”

He nods. “Good. I thought I’d have to make up stories.”

The familiar sound of a text message coming through interrupts us. Tanner reaches for his phone in his pocket and unlocks it. I can’t tell what he’s looking at, but when uncertainty crosses his face, I know something’s wrong. Realization seems to hit him. Then he looks up as any trace of kindness quickly drains from his emerald-green eyes.

“Hold on. You said my brother offered you a place to stay because you were in trouble last night. What kind of trouble?”

I mentally debate on whether or not I should tell him.

“Listen, it was great talking to you, but I really have to go. It’s getting late,” I stutter, walking toward the kitchen where the closest door is screaming my name.

He gets up as well, a hatred I’ve never seen before occupying his gaze. Then he says the two most dreadful words I’ve ever heard.

“You’re her.”

“What?” I step back, desperately analyzing my surroundings for an object I could use as a weapon.

“You’re the East Side girl.”

I don’t even have time to react when he rushes toward me, his eyes as dark as night. The oxygen is knocked out of my lungs when he pushes me against the wall, his hands circling my throat roughly. I hit him as hard as I can to get him off me, but it’s no use. He’s a good six foot five of muscle and obviously stronger than me.

“You’re that girl he made the deal about, aren’t you?” he hisses, barely an inch from my face. “Listen, I don’t know what the fuck is going on with Haze or why he’s messing with the enemy, but this is never going to happen again. You stay the hell away from my brother, do you hear me? You tell the East Side their pathetic attempt to screw us over is not going to work.”

Then I do the only thing I can think of. I lift my leg up and knee him as hard as I can where the sun doesn’t shine. He lets go of me almost instantly, groaning in pain. I sprint to the exit, slam the door open, and rush out onto the street. I have never run so fast in my entire life. Unable to see my feet hitting the ground, I look back to the Adams house that keeps getting smaller.

In the end, I was right. What I was running toward turned out to be so much worse than what I ran away from.

F I V E