Unspoken Rules (Rules 2)

“Are you insane? What do you think they’re going to say, huh? What’s going to happen? Thanks for your honesty, you’re free to go? No, fuck no. I’m not dying in prison.”

“Damn it, Marcus, you just killed a kid.”

And just like that…

Haze’s world stopped turning.

Distant sirens roared outside. Colton Gate was a small town. A gunshot at 2:00 a.m. wasn’t an everyday thing. The neighbors had probably called the police the second it had happened.

“We need to get out of here.”

“Are you insane? We can’t just leave her like this.”

“Listen to me. Listen… Do you want to be locked up for the rest of your life? Is that what you want? Because that’s what’s going to happen if we let them find us here.”

Silence.

“That’s what I thought. Come on, we have to leave. Now!”

And so they did…

They left, running back down the stairs and exiting through the exact same window Tanner always used to sneak in. This was probably how they’d found out about it in the first place. Burning tears filled up the teenage boy’s eyes as he started to hyperventilate, his throat tightening with every forced and agonizing breath. This wasn’t real. This couldn’t be real.

From there, he acted on instinct, using the pieces of marble on the ground to cut the ropes holding him prisoner. The blaring police sirens were getting closer. He ran upstairs, ignoring his blood dripping on the squeaky steps. When he reached the second floor, the boy screamed… the loudest, longest, and most heartbreaking scream of his life.

There she was.

On the ground.

Haze had never considered himself to be squeamish when it came to blood. But this was a whole other story. He’d never seen so much.

“Des!” he choked out. “No!”

He ran to the child, picking up the pale, blood-covered five-year-old into his arms and swaying her in a miserable attempt to comfort her, the way he always did when she had nightmares. Except that now her

skin was freezing, and the nightmare was real. She was still conscious, crying and shaking as she fought for each gasp of air.

“No, no, no, stay with me. Des, don’t close your eyes. Des, don’t leave me, please!” he begged, shaking her as though he hoped it would change anything, patch up her wounds, and give her back her life. The life they’d stolen from her.

The blue-eyed little girl didn’t speak. She couldn’t.

“I’ll make them pay for this, I promise.” He sobbed harder. “I’ll make them pay.”

She squeezed her big brother’s sleeve as a reply, her delicate fingers holding him for the last time.

Then she stopped.

The shakes left her, the tears ceased, and the life spilled out of her eyes.

And, in that moment…

He knew.

She was dead.

His baby sister was dead.

Because he wasn’t strong enough. Because he couldn’t stand up to the intruders. The teenager cried, all the water his body contained. He cried enough tears to match the blood on the floor, and he held her, until the police forcefully removed him from the scene. Even then, he fought with all he had. As they took him away for questioning, he recalled the words the thief had said to him.