Rule. Jay Crownover
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I wasn’t exactly tight with my folks. In fact, our relationship hovered somewhere around the mutually tolerable area, which is why my mom sent Shaw to drag me home each weekend. We were both from a small town called Brookside, in an affluent part of Colorado. I’d moved to Denver as soon as I had my diploma in hand, and Shaw had moved there a few years later. She was a few years younger than me, and she had wanted nothing more than to get into the University of Denver. Not only did the girl look like a fairy-tale princess, but she was also on track to be a freaking doctor. My mom knew there was no way I would make the two-hour drive there and back to see them on the weekends, but if Shaw came to get me, I would have to go, not only because I would feel guilty that she’d taken time out of her busy schedule, but also because she paid for the gas, waited for me to stumble out of bed, and dragged my sorry ass home every single Sunday and not once in going on two years had she complained about it.
“No, I was busy all week.” I was busy, but I also just didn’t like talking to my mom, so I had ignored her all three times she had called me this week.
Shaw sighed and her hands twisted even tighter on the steering wheel. “She was calling to tell you that Rome got hurt and the army is sending him home for six weeks of R and R. Your dad went down to the base in the Springs yesterday to pick him up.”
I bolted up in the seat so fast that I smacked my head on the roof of the car. I swore and rubbed the spot, which made my head throb even more. “What? What do you mean he got hurt?” Rome was my older brother. He had three years on me and had been overseas for a good portion of the last six. We were still tight and, even though he didn’t like all the distance I’d put between me and my parents over the years, I was sure that if he was injured I would have heard it from him.
“I’m not sure. Margot said something happened to the convoy he was in when they were out on patrol. He was in a pretty bad accident I guess. She said his arm was broken and he had a few cracked ribs. She was pretty upset so I had a hard time understanding her when she called.”
“Rome would have called me.”
“Rome was doped up and spent the last two days being debriefed. He asked your mom to call because you Archer boys are nothing if not persistent. Margot told him that you wouldn’t answer, but he told her to keep trying.”
My brother was hurt and was home, but I hadn’t known about it. I closed my eyes again and let my head drop back against the headrest. “Well, hell, that’s good news I guess. Are you going to go by and see your mom?” I asked her. I didn’t have to look at her to know that she had stiffened even more. I could practically feel the tension rolling off her in icy waves.
“No.” She didn’t say more and I didn’t expect her to. The Archers may not be the closest, warmest bunch, but we didn’t have anything on the Landons. Shaw’s family crapped gold and breathed money. They also cheated and lied, had been divorced and remarried. From what I had seen over the years, they had little need or interest in their biological daughter, who, it seemed, was conceived in order to get a tax deduction rather than time spent in a bedroom. I knew Shaw loved my house and loved my parents, because it was the only semblance of normalcy she had ever experienced. I didn’t begrudge her that; in fact I appreciated that she took most of the heat off me. If Shaw was doing well in school, dating an affluent undergrad, living the life my parents had always wanted for their sons but had been denied, they stayed off my case. Since Rome was usually a continent away, I was the only one they could get to so I took no shame in using Shaw as a buffer.
“Man, I haven’t talked to Rome in three months. It’ll be awesome to see him. I wonder if I can convince him to come spend some time in D-town with me and Nash. He’s probably more than ready for a little bit of fun.”
She sighed again and moved to turn the radio back up a little bit. “You’re twenty-two, Rule. When are you going to stop acting like an indulgent teenager? Did you even ask this one her name? In case you were wondering, you smell like a mix between a distillery and a strip club.”
I snorted and let my eyes drift back shut. “You’re nineteen, Shaw. When are you going to stop living your life by everyone else’s standards? My eighty-two-year-old grandma has more of a social calendar than you, and I think she’s less uptight.” I wasn’t going to tell her what she smelled like because it was sweet and lovely and I had no desire to be nice at the moment.
I could feel her glaring at me and I hid a grin. “I like Ethel.” Her tone was surly.
“Everybody likes Ethel. She’s feisty and won’t take crap from anyone. You could learn a thing or two from her.”
“Oh, maybe I should just dye my hair pink, tattoo every visible surface of my body, shove a bunch of metal in my face, and sleep with everything that moves. Isn’t that your philosophy on how to live a rich and fulfilling life?”
That made me crank my eyes back open and the marching band in my head decide to go for round two.
“At least I’m doing what I want. I know who and what I am, Shaw, and I don’t make any apologies for it. I hear plenty of Margot Archer coming out of your pretty mouth right now.”
Her mouth twisted down into a frown. “Whatever. Let’s just go back to ignoring each other, okay? I just thought you should know about Rome. The Archer boys have never been big on surprises.”
She was right. In my experience surprises were never a good thing. They usually resulted in someone getting pissed and me ending up in some kind of fight. I loved my brother, but I had to admit I was kind of irritated he hadn’t, one, bothered to let me know he was hurt, and, two, was still trying to force me to play nice with my folks. I figured Shaw’s plan for us to ignore each other the rest of the way was a winner, so I slumped down as far as the sporty little car would allow and started to doze off. I was only out for twenty minutes or so when her Civil Wars ringtone jarred me awake. I blinked my gritty eyes and rubbed a hand over the scruff on my face. If the hair and the hickey didn’t piss Mom off, the fact I was too busy to shave for her precious brunch might just send her into hysterics.
“No, I told you I was going to Brookside and won’t be back until late.” When I looked across the car at her she must have felt my gaze because she looked at me quickly and I saw a little bit of pink work its way onto her high cheekbones. “No, Gabe, I told you I won’t have time and that I have a lab due.” I couldn’t make out the words on the other end but the person sounded angry at her brush-off, and I saw her fingers tighten on the phone. “It’s none of your business. I have to go now, so I’ll talk to you later.” She swiped a finger across the screen and tossed the fancy device into the cup holder by my knee.
“Trouble in paradise?” I didn’t really care about Shaw and her richer-than-God, future-ruler-of-the-known-universe boyfriend, but it was polite to ask when she was obviously upset. I hadn’t ever met Gabe, but what I’d heard from Mom when I bothered to listen was that he was custom-made for Shaw’s future doctor persona. His family was as loaded as hers; his dad was a judge, or lawyer, or some other political nonsense I had no use for. I was sure, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that the dude wore pleated slacks and pink polo shirts with white loafers. For a long moment I didn’t think she was going to respond, but then she cleared her throat and started tapping out a beat on the steering wheel with her manicured fingers.
“Not really, we broke up but I don’t think Gabe really gets it.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, a couple weeks ago, actually. I had been thinking about doing it for a while. I’m just too busy with school and work to have a boyfriend.”
“If he was the right guy you wouldn’t have felt that way. You would have made the time because you wanted to be with him.”
She looked at me with both blond brows raised to her hairline. “Are you, Mr. Manwhore of the Century, seriously trying to give me relationship advice?”
I rolled my eyes, which made my head scream in protest. “Just because there hasn’t been one girl I wanted to hang out with exclusively doesn’t mean I don’t know the