Unbroken Rules (Rules 3)

“Hey Vic. It’s Winter. Can I talk to Haze?”

He snorts. “I mean… Don’t you have his number?”

I hear in his tone that he’s no stranger to alcohol this evening. I’m surprised Haze would allow him to drink when he went there specifically because he’s having a hard time.

“I tried, but he’s not picking up. He said he’d be back home by now.”

“Home from where?” He sounds confused.

“From your place, duh.”

A long silence follows.

“What are you talking about? Haze wasn’t at my place today.”

My lungs collapse.

“What? But… he said that you were hanging out.”

“When I texted him, he said he was spending the day with you.”

It slaps me across the face.

He lied.

Again.

Allie, who’s sitting right next to me, offers me an apologetic look. No explanations are needed. She knows merely from the look on my face that something happened, and it’s not a good something.

The front door opens.

A hurricane of emotions sucks me in.

He’s here.

If he’d just picked up the phone, I would’ve never called Vic. If he’d just come home a few minutes sooner, I would’ve never found out about this. Is this what our relationship is going to be like? Am I going to develop trust issues, become completely paranoid every time he goes out?

I refuse to let go of the million excuses colliding in my head. Maybe he has a great, solid reason. Maybe his car broke down so he couldn’t go. What bothers me the mos

t isn’t even that I don’t know where he went today. Or what he did. All I care about is that he lied.

“Babe?” He shuts the door.

Kendrick comes back from the bathroom at the same time, and Allie gives him the look. The let’s save ourselves while we still can look. She grabs his hand and drags him up the stairs to give us privacy.

“Winter?” he calls again.

I’m going to crucify him, I swear.

With a heavy heart, I head for the kitchen. He’s standing near the doorway, with this unbearably beautiful smile on his face. Seeing him turns my rage into excruciating pain. He tucks his smile away when he notices the absence of mine.

“Why?” I whisper.

I don’t need to explain myself. His face instantly changes. He knows. He knows what he did.

“I swear I was going to tell you.”

“Answer the question.” His false promises aren’t enough to pierce through my icy exterior.