Rule

She bit her lip again, conceding I probably had a valid point as she pulled the car into the coffee shop’s parking lot. I practically bolted out of the car, eager to stretch my legs and get a little distance from her typical haughty attitude.

There was a line when I got inside, and I took a quick look around to see if I recognized anyone. Brookside is a pretty small town and usually when I stopped by on the weekends I inevitably ran into someone I used to go to school with. I hadn’t bothered to ask Shaw if she wanted me to grab her anything because she was being all uppity about having to stop in the first place. It was almost my turn to order when my phone started blasting a Social Distortion song in my pocket. I dug it out after ordering a big-ass black coffee and took a spot by the counter next to a cute brunette who was trying her hardest to not get caught checking me out.

“What up?”

I could hear the music in the shop blaring behind Nash when he asked, “How did this morning go?”

Nash knew my faults and bad habits better than anyone, and the reason we had maintained our friendship as long as we had was because he never judged me.

“Sucked. I’m hungover, grumpy, and about to sit through yet another forced family function. Plus, Shaw is in rare form today.”

“How was the chick from last night?”

“No clue. I don’t even remember leaving the bar with her. Apparently I did a huge piece on her side so she was a little pissed that I didn’t remember who she was, so ouch.”

He chuckled on the other end of the line. “She told you that, like, six times last night. She even tried to pull her top off to show you. And I drove your dumb ass home last night, drunko. I tried to get you to leave at, like, midnight but you weren’t having any of it, as usual. I had to drive your truck home and then take a cab back to get my car.”

I snorted and reached for the coffee when the guy behind the counter called my name. I noticed the brunette’s eyes follow the hand that wrapped around the cardboard cup. It was the hand that had the flared head of a king cobra on it, the snake’s forked tongue making the L in my name that was inked across my four knuckles. The rest of the snake wound its way up my forearm and around my elbow. The brunette’s mouth made a little O of surprise so I flashed her a wink and walked back to the BMW.

“Sorry, dude. How did your appointment go?”

Nash’s uncle Phil had opened the tattoo shop years ago on Capitol Hill when it mainly catered to gangbangers and bikers. Now with the influx of young urbanites and hipsters populating the area, the Marked was one of the busiest tattoo parlors in town. Nash and I met in art class in the fifth grade and have been inseparable since. In fact, ever since we were twelve our plan was to move to the city and work for Phil. We both had mad skills and the personality to make the shop bump with business so Phil had no qualms apprenticing us and putting us to work before we were both in our twenties. It was killer to have a friend in the same field; I had a plethora of ink on my skin that ranged from not-so-great to great that chronicled Nash’s evolution as a tattoo artist, and he could state the same thing about me.

“I finished that back piece that I’ve been working on since July. It turned out better than I thought and the dude is talking about doing the front. I’ll take it, because he’s a fat tipper.”

“Nice.” I was juggling the phone and the coffee, trying to open the door to the car when a female voice stopped me in my tracks.

“Hey.” I looked over my shoulder and the brunette was standing a car over with a smile on her face. “I really like your tattoos.”

I smiled back at her and then jumped, nearly spilling scalding hot coffee down my crotch as Shaw shoved the door open from the inside.

“Thanks.” If we had been closer to home and Shaw wasn’t already putting the car in reverse I probably would have taken a second to ask the girl for her number. Shaw shot me a look of contempt that I promptly ignored, and I went back to my conversation with Nash. “Rome is home. He got in an accident and Shaw said he’s got a few weeks of R and R coming to him. I guess that’s why Mom was blowing my phone up all week.”

“Kick ass. Ask him if he wants to roll with us for a few days. I miss that surly bastard.”

I sipped on the coffee and my head finally started to calm down. “That’s the plan. I’ll hit you up on my way home and let you know what the story is.”

I flicked my thumb across the screen to end the call and settled back into the seat. Shaw scowled angrily at me and I swore her eyes glowed. Really. I have never seen anything that green, even in nature, and when she gets mad they are just otherworldly.

“Your mom called while you were busy flirting. She’s mad that we’re late.”

I sucked on more of the black nectar of the gods and started tapping out a beat on my knee with my free hand. I was always kind of a fidgety guy and the closer we got to my parents’ house, the worse it usually got. Brunch was always stilted and forced. I couldn’t figure out why they insisted on going through with it every single week and couldn’t figure out why Shaw enabled the farce, but I went, even when I knew nothing would ever change.

“She’s mad that you’re late. We both know she couldn’t care less if I’m there or not.” My fingers moved faster and faster as she wheeled the car into a gated community and passed rows and rows of cookie-cutter minimansions that were built back into the mountains.

“That’s not true and you know it, Rule. I do not suffer through these car rides every weekend, subject myself to the delight of your morning-after nastiness because your parents want me to have eggs and pancakes every Sunday. I do it because they want to see you, want to try to have a relationship with you no matter how many times you hurt them or push them away. I owe it to your parents and, more important, I owe it to Remy to try to make you act right even though lord knows that’s almost a full-time job.”

I sucked in a breath as the blinding pain that always came when someone mentioned Remy’s name barreled through my chest. My fingers involuntarily opened and closed around the coffee cup and I whipped my head around to glare at her.

“Remy wouldn’t be all over my ass to try and be something to them I’m not. I was never good enough for them, and never will be. He understood that better than anyone and worked overtime to try and be everything to them I never could be.”

She sighed and pulled the car to a stop in the driveway behind my dad’s SUV. “The only difference between you and Remy is that he let people love him, and you”—she yanked open the driver’s door and glared at me across the space that separated us—“you have always been determined to make everyone who cares about you prove it beyond a shadow of a doubt. You’ve never wanted to be easy to love, Rule, and you make damn sure that nobody can ever forget it.” She slammed the door with enough force that it rattled my back teeth and made my head start to throb again.

It has been three years. Three lonely, three empty, three sorrow-filled years since the Archer brothers went from a trio to a duo. I am close to Rome—he’s awesome and has always been my role model when it comes to being a badass—but Remy was my other half, both figuratively and literally. He was my identical twin, the light to my dark, the easy to my hard, the joy to my angst, the perfect to my oh-so-totally fucked up, and without him I was only half the person I would ever be. It has been three years since I called him in the middle of the night to come pick me up from some lame-ass party because I had been too drunk to drive. Three years since he left the apartment we shared to come get me—zero questions asked—because that’s just what he did.

It’s been three years since he lost control of his car on a rainy and slick I-25 and slammed into the back of a semi truck going well over eighty. Three years since we put my twin in the ground and my mother looked at me with tears in her eyes and stated point-blank, “It should have been you” as they lowered Remy into the ground.

It’s been three years and his name alone is still enough to drop me to my knees, especially coming from the one person in the world Remy had loved as much as he loved me.

Remy was everything I wasn’t—clean-cut, well dressed, and interested in getting an education and building a secure future. The only person on the planet who was good enough and classy enough to match all the magnificence that he possessed was Shaw Landon. The two of them had been inseparable since the first time he brought her home when she was fourteen and trying to escape the fortress of the Landon compound. He insisted they were just friends, that he loved Shaw like a sister, that he just wanted to protect her from her awful, sterile family, but the way he was with her was full of reverence and care. I knew he loved her, and since Remy could do no wrong, Shaw had quickly become an honorary member of my family. As much as it galled me, she was the only one who really, truly understood the depth of my pain when it came to losing him.

I had to take a few extra minutes to get my feet back under me so I sucked back the rest of the coffee and shoved open the door. I wasn’t surprised to see a tall figure coming around the SUV as I labored out of the sports car. My brother was an inch or so taller than me and built more along the lines of a warrior. His dark-brown hair was buzzed in a typical military cut and his pale-blue eyes, the same icy shade as mine, looked tired as he forced a smile at me. I let out a whistle because his left arm was in a cast and sling, he had a walking boot on one foot, and there was a nasty line of black stitches running through one of his eyebrows and across his forehead. The Weedwacker that had attacked my hair had clearly gotten a good shot at my big bro, too.

“Looking good, soldier.”

He pulled me to him in a one-armed hug and I winced for him when I felt the taped-up side of his body clearly indicating some injury beyond the busted ribs. “I look about as good as I feel. You look like a clown getting out of that car.”

“I look like a clown no matter what when I’m around that girl.” He barked out a laugh and rubbed a rough hand through my spiky hair.

“You and Shaw are still acting like mortal enemies?”

“More like uneasy acquaintances. She’s just as prissy and judgmental as always. Why didn’t you call or email me that you were hurt? I had to hear it from Shaw on the way over.”

He swore as we started to slowly make our way toward the house. It upset me to see how deliberate he was moving and I wondered if the damage was more serious than what was visible.

“I was unconscious after the Hummer flipped. We drove over an IED and it was bad. I was in the hospital for a week with a scrambled noggin, and when I woke up they had to do surgery on my shoulder so I was all drugged up. I called Mom and figured she would let you know what the deal was, but I heard that, as usual, you were unavailable when she called.”

I shrugged a shoulder and reached out a hand to steady him as he faltered a little on the stairs to the front door. “I was busy.”

“You’re stubborn.”

“Not too stubborn. I’m here aren’t I? I didn’t even know you were home until this morning.”

“The only reason you’re here is because that little girl in there is bound and determined to keep this family together regardless if we’re her own or not. You go in there and play nice; otherwise, I’ll kick your ass, broken arm and all.”

I muttered a few choice words and followed my battered sibling into the house. Sundays really were my least favorite day.

CHAPTER 2

Shaw

I closed the bathroom door with a soft click and turned the lock. I collapsed against the sink and ran shaking hands over my face. It was getting harder and harder to be Rule’s chaperone to these family gatherings every Sunday. I already felt like I was getting an ulcer, and if I had to walk in on him and one of his disgusting bar bimbos again, I wasn’t sure I was going to make it out of his apartment without committing homicide.

I turned around to splash some cold water on my face and lifted the heavy fall of blond hair off my neck. I needed to get it together because the last thing I wanted was for Margot or Dale—or Rome for that matter—to notice that something was off. Rome was one of the most observant people I had ever met and I had a feeling that even drugged up and in pain he wouldn’t miss a thing when it came to his younger brother and sister, since by association I had technically been lumped into the category of surrogate little sister.

It was getting harder and harder to spend time around Rule and not just because looking at him reminded me of everything that I no longer had—which was the problem Margot and Dale struggled with, not that the insensitive ass had any empathy for his parents. My struggle was that Rule was complicated; he was brash, mouthy, careless, thoughtless, often cranky, and generally an insufferable pain in the ass. But when he chose to be, he was charming and funny, artistically brilliant, and more often than not, the most interesting person in the room. I have been head over heels in love with both sides of him since I was fourteen years old. Of course I loved Remy, loved him like a brother, like the best friend and consummate protector he had been, but I loved Rule like it was my mission in life. I loved him like it was inevitable, like no matter how many times I was shown what an awful idea it was, what a bad match we were, what a callous asshole he could be, I couldn’t shake it. So each and every time I had to have the fact that he didn’t even think of me as more than a carpool driver shoved in my face it tore a little bit more of my battered heart apart.

Because my own family was such a mess, there was no way I would be half the person I was today without everything the Archers had done for me. Remy had taken me under his wing when I was a friendless and lonely teen. Rome had threatened to beat up the first boy who made me cry because I liked him and he didn’t like me back. Margot had taken me shopping for homecoming and prom dresses when my own mother was too busy with her new husband to care. Dale had taken me to the University of Denver and the University of Colorado–Boulder and helped whittle down the choices logically and rationally when it came to picking a college. And Rule, well, Rule was a constant reminder that money didn’t get you everything you wanted and that no matter how perfect I tried to be, how hard I worked at being everything to everyone, it still wasn’t enough.

I blew out a breath that I felt like I had been holding for more than an hour and took a piece of Kleenex to wipe away the black smudges from under my eyes. If I didn’t get down to the dining room fast Margot was bound to come looking for me and I didn’t have a reasonable excuse as to why I was currently freaking out in the bathroom. I fished a hair tie out of my pocket and pulled my hair into a low ponytail, slicked on a sheer coat of gloss, and gave myself a silent pep talk, reminding myself that I had done this a million other Sundays and that this one was no different.

Just as I was stepping into the hall my phone rang and I had to struggle to hold back a groan when I saw that it was Gabe calling again. I sent the call to voice mail and wondered for the hundredth time in the last month why I had ever wasted a second of my time on his pompous ass. He was overly entitled, overly grabby, overly superficial, and more interested in my last name and the fact that my parents were loaded than he was in me.

I wasn’t even interested in dating him—wasn’t interested in dating anyone—but my parents had forced my hand. As usual, under their pressure, I folded and ended up spending more time with him than I wanted to. I had managed to tolerate him for a lot longer than I thought I would be able to. After all, Gabe was way more interested in himself than in me. It wasn’t until he had started pushing for sex—making me uncomfortable by grabbing and touching things I didn’t want his hands anywhere near—that I cut the cord. Unfortunately, neither he nor my parents seem to have gotten the message and I have been inundated with calls, texts, and emails for the last two weeks. Gabe was easy enough to dodge; my mother not so much.

I was shoving the phone into my back pocket when a quiet voice stopped me. “What’s going on with you, little girl? I’ve been gone for over eighteen months and all I get is a hug and a peck on the cheek before you disappear? Where are the tears? Where’s the hysterics that I’m home safe and sound? What’s working in that complicated brain of yours? Because I can tell something is on your mind.”

I hiccupped a little laugh and let my forehead fall onto the strong chest in front of me. Even battered and bruised Rome was the kind of guy who stood between the people he loved and anything that might possibly hurt them. He patted the top of my head and laid a heavy hand on the back of my neck. “I missed your pretty face, Shaw; you don’t know how good it is to be home.”

I shuddered a little and wrapped a careful arm around his waist so that I could give him a squeeze and not hurt him. “I missed you, too, Rome. I’m just stressed out. School is crazy right now, I’m working three or four nights a week, and my parents won’t get off my back about this guy I just broke up with. You know I love it when we’re all together. I thought your mom was going to have a heart attack when she called to tell me what happened to you. I’m so glad you’re okay. I don’t think this family would be able to handle losing another Archer son.”

“No, probably not. I can’t believe she still has you playing chauffeur for my idiot brother.”

I hooked my arm through his and we started to make our way to the dining room. “It’s the only way he’ll come. If I have to miss it because of school or because something comes up he just blows them off. Half the time when I get to the apartment he doesn’t even know what day it is and has to scramble to get out the door. Today would be a prime example of that. If I show up he feels obligated to come with me no matter what or who he’s in the middle of doing.”

Rome swore under his breath. “It wouldn’t kill that kid to play nice with Mom and Dad once a week. He shouldn’t need you to be his babysitter.”

I shrugged my shoulders because we both knew that all the Archer brothers had a role. Remy had been the good son, the straight-A student, the future Ivy Leaguer. He was also the one saddled with the role of keeping Rule out of jail and running interference when his twin got into trouble that he couldn’t talk his way out of. Rule was the wild card, the one who lived life to the fullest and made no apologies to those he might offend or hurt along the way. Rome was the boss and the twins adored him and followed his lead through good and bad, because lord knew with the way the three of them looked, there was lots and lots of bad thrown their way. With Remy gone it wasn’t a surprise to anyone that Rome had become even more protective of his remaining brother and that I had fallen seamlessly into the role of trying to keep Rule on some kind of straight and narrow path.

“It’s the least I can do for Margot and Dale. They’ve always done so much for me and asked for so little in return. Suffering Rule’s wrath once a week is a pretty easy sacrifice to make.”

Something flashed in his eyes, which were so much like his brother’s that it sometimes hurt to look into them. Rome wasn’t anyone’s fool and it wouldn’t surprise me if he knew more about all the things I kept locked up than he let on.

“I just don’t want you being the target of Rule being Rule. Mom needs to get over her shit and so does he. Everyone is grown now and life is too short for you to be constantly playing the peacemaker between those two.”

I sighed and lowered my voice as we got to the entrance of the dining room. The table was already set and everyone was already in his regular seat. Dale was at the head of the table, Margot on his right, with an open spot for me. His left side was open for Rome, and Rule had taken the seat at the opposite end of the table as far away from both of his parents as he could get. “They need to move past the fact that he’s never going to be Remy, and he has to stop intentionally cramming that fact down their throats. Until one side gives and learns how to forgive it’s always going to be this way.”

He pressed a superlight kiss to my temple and gave me a little squeeze back. “I don’t think any of them realize how lucky they are to have you, little girl.”

I let him go and went to take my seat between Margot and Rule. I tried not to wince when Rule sent a narrow-eyed look in my direction, knowing Rome and I had more than likely been whispering about him. I slid into my spot and flashed Dale a smile as he started passing the typically lavish food around. I was about to ask Rome what he planned to do with his time off when Margot had me snapping my head around in shock.

“Would it be too much of a stretch to expect you to come to brunch in a shirt that buttons and in a pair of pants that don’t look like they came from a thrift store? I mean, your brother has several broken bones and was in a horrific accident and he still manages to look more put together than you, Rule.”

I had to bite my tongue to stop from snapping at her to lay off him. Mostly because family gatherings were supposed to be informal and fun. I knew good and well that if I had shown up in jeans and a T-shirt she wouldn’t even have blinked, but because it was him she viewed it as a direct attack on her.

He picked a couple pieces of bacon off the platter I handed to him and didn’t even bother to respond to her. Instead, he turned to Rome and asked what his plans were while he was home. Rule wanted him to come to the city for a week and spend time with him and Nash. I saw Margot’s mouth tighten at the dismissal and Dale’s eyebrows pull down in a frown. I saw varying degrees of the same look every Sunday we were here. It hurt my chest because even in a rumpled shirt and torn jeans Rule was the kind of guy who owned whatever look he was wearing. It was the same thing with the mass amounts of tattoos that covered him from head to toe and the array of metal that dotted his face here and there.

There was no denying Rule was a good-looking guy, probably too good-looking, to be honest, but he was complicated, and the beauty he possessed was buried and camouflaged under things that weren’t easy to look past. Of all the brothers, he has the clearest, most arctic blue eyes, and his hair, even when it’s decorated with purple or green or blue, is still the thickest and the shiniest. Even with every color under the sun dancing across his skin, of the three of them, Rule had always been the one the girls gravitated to. Just like the brunette at Starbucks this afternoon. Her name was Amy Rodgers, and I had spent all four years of high school being tormented by her and her cheerleader cronies. She dated jocks and boys who bled blue, not guys who rocked Mohawks and had their eyebrows and lips pierced, but even she couldn’t resist all that was Rule Archer in his magnetic glory.

“And what’s going on with your hair, son?” Dale asked. “A color actually found in nature might be a nice change of pace, especially since the whole family is together and we’re all lucky to have your brother home in one piece.”

I groaned inwardly and silently took the bowl of fruit Margot handed me. Now that they had teamed up on him there was no way he was going to stay quiet. Normally, he ignored his mom and shot sarcastic one-liners at Dale, but being interrupted and attacked from both sides while he was trying to catch up with Rome wasn’t going to fly. Rule had a short fuse on a good day but corner him when he was hungover and being reluctantly civil at best—the fur was, no doubt, going to fly. I shot Rome a panicked look across the table, but before he could interject, Rule’s voice snapped out like a verbal backhand across the face.