Page 82 of Rules

My heart squeezes so hard, I’m surprised it doesn’t burst. My whole body aches for her. For what happened and all the shitty things she’s had to deal with, before and after. How is this fair? How is it fair that something like this happens to a little girl and there is nobody to care?

Brook laughs humorlessly. “Like I wanted her attention. By then I already knew I couldn’t rely on her, and if I wanted to survive, I’d have to do it on my own. But I needed her, dammit.” Her clenched fist connects with my peck, wide, haunted green eyes meeting mine. “I needed somebody to believe me. Somebody tosaveme. Because no matter how strong or resilient or resourceful you are, there are some things out there that are stronger than you. And no matter how hard you try, at the end of the day, when all the bravado falls, you’re only human. A child.”

There is a familiar sting in my eyes. I close them as one of my hands tangles in her hair and pulls her head to my chest. “I’m so sorry, babe. So, so sorry.”

I can’t say it enough, and although I know it’ll never make up for what happened to her, for her mother’s betrayal, I repeat the words over and over again. A silent whisper in her ear, as my hand soothes her.

“She found us in bed, eventually. She was so pissed, but not because he was raping me, of course not. She thought I asked for it.Asked.Do you know how fucked up that is, Max? My own mother found me in bed, covered in sweat, tears, and puke with a man three times older than me, a man who was her boyfriend, and she thought I asked for it.”

“Brook…”

“At least she threw him out after that. The only good thing she ever did for me was get that monster out of my life.”

I shake my head. I’ve never wanted to raise my hand to a woman in my life, not until now. If I ever meet Brook’s mother… not that she can be called that. It’s an insult to every woman who loves and cares for her child, something Josephine Taylor never did for her daughter.

“Why do you still live with her?” I can’t help but ask.

“Are you kidding me?” Brook pushes off my chest to look at me. Her eyes are big and puffy, tears staining her cheeks, but there is a fire in her eyes that has been missing before. The fire I welcome wholeheartedly. “Where would I go? Josephine is a shitty excuse for a human being, but at least I have a roof over my head. I thought about leaving, running away somewhere where nobody would find me and starting from zero. Erasing Brook Taylor from this earth and getting a fresh start, but what if they find me and bring me back? Or even worse, put me in the system? What if I, by some miracle, do manage to get away, but end up on the streets? I’ve felt the ugliness of the world on my skin; I have it carved into my flesh, but I’m not silly enough to believe I’ve reached rock bottom. There are far worse things that can happen to a girl out there, and I’m not going to risk it.” Her head falls back as she inhales, fingers gripping my shoulders tightly. “There are no guarantees. Rationally, I know this, but… if something were to happen again... As it is, I’m broken in so many pieces, jaded beyond repair. I’m holding on by a thread, and if something happens again, I won’t be able to survive it.”

“Don’t say that.” I look into her broken eyes, refusing to believe her words. My forehead presses to hers. “Don’t you dare say that, Brook. They hurt you, but you’re not broken. I call you Firecracker for a reason, and it’s not only because of your feisty attitude. There is a fire burning inside you that’s hotter and stronger than life itself. It will not bow down and be extinguished.”

“I’m not the person you believe I am, Max.”

She tries to shake her head and look away, but I cup her cheeks and force her to look at me so there is no doubt about what I think. “No, you’re so much more than that. What happened to you was terrible, but don’t let it define you. It shaped you into the person you are, but don’t let it own you. They betrayed you and used you, but you’re not tainted.”

“You don’t understa—” She tries again, but I can see her defenses weakening.

“You’re not tainted, Brook. You’re a survivor, a warrior, and don’t let anybody take that away from you.”

Her throat bobs as she swallows, tears streaming down her face. Brushing them away, I press my lips against her forehead. “You’re worthy, Brook. Worthy of a new beginning. Worthy of everything good that’ll come your way. Worthy of family and friends. Worthy of love.”

She inhales a shaky breath, pulling away. Those gem-like eyes zero in on my face, wide and scared, but there is something else hidden inside, a light that wasn’t there before.Hope.My heart flutters—actuallyflutters—in my chest, the ache that I’ve been feeling slowly melting away. Brushing a strand of her hair out of her face, I let the feeling grow inside of me as I stare at the girl who’s been through hell and back. A girl who thinks so little of herself, while everybody else thinks so highly of her. WhileIthink so highly of her. And not only that…

As a smile, soft yet small, curls her lips, I realize something else. Something I didn’t want to think before. For her, I’d do anything. Even travel to hell and back. Because as crazy as it sounds, I think I’m falling for her.

I’m falling for Brook Taylor.

Chapter Thirty-One

BROOK

Slowly, I feel my body stir awake as awareness breaks through the cloud of my dark, dreamless brain. A rare but always welcome thing.

Every muscle in my body aches as I stretch my limbs, only to bump into something.Someone.

My eyes fly open, panic overflowing my body, only to settle on Max’s sleeping face. The instant anxiety I was feeling goes away as the memories of last night come front and center. My whole body shivers, but I don’t let my eyes close. No, instead I concentrate on now and the man lying next to me.

Even in his sleep, there is a frown between his brows, and I cannot help but wonder if I’m the one responsible for putting it there. Yesterday brought a lot of ugly memories for me, but I know that it also upset Max a lot. For all his bad-boy antics, he isn’t used to a world where girls are assaulted in backstreet allies. He was feeling powerless, something I’m very familiar with, yet he didn’t leave, not even for a second. My hand itches to smooth the lines of his face, but I hold back, not wanting to wake him.

I still couldn’t wrap my mind around the fact that I told him. I told him what happened to me, and he believed me. For all these years, I was holding it in because I didn’t want to risk people not believing me. I didn’t want them to put the blame on me for what happened, assume that I asked for it. But there was also this other part of me, a selfish part, that didn’t want people to look at me differently. Look at me like I’m something damaged, broken beyond repair and tainted because of the cruelty I experienced. But Max didn’t look at me differently at all. He could see strength and beauty even in the places I couldn’t. For all the words and insisting I’m the same, I always knew, deep down, that I wasn’t. What happened changed me, marked me, and those changes aren’t just superficial; they’re bone-deep. There is no changing that. I could either accept it and move on or keep obsessing about it, looking for a little girl who was no longer there.

“What’s on your mind?” Max rasps. His hand reaches for me, startling me for a second as it pushes a strand of messy hair out of my face.

“Just thinking.” I shrug.

His hand falls onto the mattress between us, and I can’t help but reach for it. With the tip of my finger, I trace the fine lines on his palm.

“Thank you for everything last night…”

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