Unbroken Rules (Rules 3)

“You’re so hot when you’re mad.”

“I’m not with a blindfold on?” I mock.

“Winter, you could wear a potato sack and still turn me on.”

Before I can answer, a door opens and a bell chimes above our heads. I’m assuming we’re in some sort of store. But which store? I’m nowhere near figuring that out.

“Hold still.” He unlatches my hand from his arm, and I feel him untie my blindfold. Bright light hits my eyes.

I blink a few times.

“Can I help you?” A woman’s voice emerges on my right.

My eyes jump to her. The woman behind a large counter.

“Yeah. I have an appointment at 12:30,” Haze says.

The woman says something else and walks off. I didn’t hear a single word. No, I didn’t listen to a single word. I’m way too busy shitting my pants. I’m in a bright red room. Designs and drawings cover every available wall. A bright neon sign hangs above the now deserted counter. Tattoo shop.

“Surprise.” Haze throws his hands up, his voice heavy with doubt.

“You… You can’t be serious right now.” I step back, as if I’m about to sprint out the door. “I… I can’t do this.”

“Yes, you can.”

“No, I can’t.” I shake my head.

“Why not?” He reaches for my hand and laces our fingers together.

“Because I haven’t thought this through. It’s a big decision, Haze. A tattoo’s for the rest of your life.”

“So? They have a bunch of books to show you. I’m sure you’ll find something.”

“And if I don’t?”

“Then we’ll just come back some other time. It’s your birthday gift. Your choice.”

“But… What’s my mom going to think?” I only realize the absurdity of what I’ve just said when I catch Haze’s frown. He knocks some sense into me without speaking. I can’t believe that, after all this time, I still have it in me to worry about this woman’s opinion. After she abandoned me on my birthday too many times to count, after she denied me love and affection during my entire childhood, part of me still wishes, deep down, that she’ll change her mind one day. That she’ll wake up and love me. The way a parent should.

Because even after every fucked-up thing Lauren Kingston has done… she’s still my mom.

“Hey, listen to me.” He moves toward me. “You spend too much time worrying about other people. This is for you. No one else. You said you’ve always wanted a tattoo. Well, now’s the time.”

He’s right. There are so many things I never did because I wanted my mother’s approval. Getting a tattoo was just one item on the list. I also didn’t get my hair dyed. My ears pierced. All because she spent my teenage years calling Allie’s wrist tattoo self-harm and saying colored hair was for attention seekers.

“Isn’t it going to be expensive?” I wince.

“That’s not for you to worry about.”

“But—”

“Winter, stop. I know you want this. Let me give it to you.”

His pale eyes soothe me. I inhale a breath and walk straight into his arms. No warning. He’s surprised but grants me the hug I need, resting his chin on the top of my head.

“Thank you,” I whisper, and he holds me for as long as I want. This is one of the things I’ve always loved about him. Some people merely hug you back. Haze just hugs you.

“Why don’t I get you one of their books?” He smiles when I break free from him. I lose myself in his clear eyes, and the answer comes to me, or rather, it appears to me, because it was always there, hiding in a tiny, isolated corner of my heart—just waiting to reveal itself.