The Rules for Breaking (14 page)

Rules for disappearing
by Witness Protection prisoner #18A7R04M:

Never, under any circumstances, try to re-enter your old life in any way….

New rule by Anna Boyd:

Sometimes your old life sucks you back in. Reacting to what you’re feeling does not lead to smart decisions. Even if you feel like bashing someone’s head in and throwing him out of the window. It may make you feel better, but it won’t help your situation.

backs away until he hits the door and stares at me with hard eyes.

The urge to slap his face conflicts with the urge to throw my arms around him. This internal power struggle makes me want to vomit.

My stomach is in knots as my brain races to comprehend this. All that time I worried about him. Worried what he thought when he showed up at my door and we were gone. How horrible for him that there wasn’t a trace left of us and how long he must have wondered about what happened to me. All that friggin’ time and here he is—in a ski mask helping Thomas hold us hostage. Tyler Collins—the first boy I trusted once I was in the Witness Protection Program. The first boy I allowed myself to have feelings for even though I knew I’d have to leave him behind one day. The boy who made it so hard to open up to Ethan—because I didn’t want to lose anyone else—has been right in front of me for three days.

There are no words. Questions and accusations race through my head but I can’t force any of them from my mouth.

“Good; you obviously didn’t forget about me completely,” Tyler says.

Tyler looks the exact same as he did when we lived in Florida except for the row of fresh stiches across his cheek.

Teeny starts sobbing again and races to my side. “I don’t understand,” she says through hiccups. “Why are you here? Why are you working with
him
?”

I try to comfort her but some unknown sensation has settled in my chest and frozen everything inside.

Tyler’s here.

He’s here and he’s helping Thomas.

As I stare at his face, my mind flashes between his unapologetic expression and his sun-kissed face the last time I saw him in Florida. It was the afternoon just before we were yanked out of that placement and we were playing in the waves…jumping in them and splashing around. A big one had knocked us both under, and the current pushed me headfirst into the sandy bottom. But Tyler was there to pull me back up. We stood in the water, body to body, while he dusted away the wet sand that stuck to my cheek. It was the first time since we’d gotten into the program that I felt truly happy. Teeny called from the shore that I had to come home. Tyler kissed me lightly on the lips and said he would pick me up at seven for our date. That was the last time I saw him.

Until today.

I feel paralyzed by that memory.

Teeny pulls her head away from where she’s buried it in my side and yells at him, “You’re a big liar! I hate you!”

The fire Teeny feels slowly breaks through the cold panic I’m in.

I stroke her head and ask him, “Is Tyler even your real name?” My teeth grind through every word.

He nods. “Yes. My real name is Tyler.”

I take a deep breath in and try to control the burst of anger rushing through me. Teeny blubbers against my shoulder and it sounds like she’s finally letting go. I’m so mad I can’t think. I hope like hell the disgust shows on my face when I say, “Get out of my sight.”

He waits a moment then stands quickly, leaving the room without looking back. He doesn’t forget to lock the door, though.

Teeny cries and cries until I don’t think there’s any more water left in her body, then her sobs turn to sniffles. We’re both in such shock that we remain on the hard, wood floor instead of crawling the few inches it would take to get on the mattress.

“Sissy, why is he here, doing this to us? I’m so confused.”

“I don’t know.” How in the world is he involved with this? Sweet Tyler, who played Frisbee on the beach with us and showed Teeny how to catch sand crabs.

I think hard about each moment we were together, dissecting them so I can make sense of him being here.

Like the afternoon we were hanging out at our apartment and he wanted to watch the Arizona Cardinals game. Said he had always been a big fan of theirs. Kept asking me if I liked them. I thought it was fate at the time. How awesome that his favorite team was from my home state. Of course, I played dumb, I wasn’t supposed to be from Arizona, but it was something that drew me closer to him.

Was he playing me? Trying to get me to slip up?

Teeny leans back and pulls the top sheet from the mattress so she can mop up her face. “Do you think he knew Thomas back in Florida?”

I shrug. “I don’t know.”

Now that I’ve had time to think, I’m mad at myself for not demanding some sort of explanation when Tyler was here.

Florida.

It was the last somewhat happy placement.

Agent Hammond was the one to relocate us to Florida.

Everything started falling apart once we left Florida.

“Teeny, can I borrow one of the puzzle books?”

She picks the one off the top and hands it to me. I always do better with a list, so it’s time to figure this out.

I scratch out the things I know for sure on the back inside cover:

1. An assassin named Mateo is after all of us.

2. Tyler is a piece-of-shit fraud.

3. Agent Williams’s grandson is being held hostage, too.

4. I don’t know where Ethan is or if he’s okay.

5. We’re in New Orleans but don’t know who to trust if we make it out of this building.

6. Agent Hammond is the mole.

7. My only weapon is a plunger.

That’s it. I stare at it for a long time but can’t add anything else to it. The light fades from the room and Teeny falls asleep much earlier than usual, probably exhausted from all the crying.

The lock turns, the door slowly opening, and I gear up for a confrontation with Tyler. I need to keep my cool and try to get some answers. But it’s not Tyler. It’s Thomas and he’s not in the priest clothes this time. He’s dressed as a cop: badge, gun, and all.

Oh, crap. If I ever thought the local cops could help—I don’t now. Does he know Tyler’s been outed?

“Get up.”

I scoot back. “Why?”

“You want to see your boyfriend?”

I jump up from the mattress and race to the door. “Yes.” I glance back at Teeny. She’s still asleep.

“I know you better than you think. You’re doing any and every little thing you can to find a way out of here. So let me give you a little reality check. If you find a way to contact the police, I will know. If you find a way to contact your father, I will know. Do not underestimate my power. I am everywhere, even the places you would never think to look.”

My hands form fists the moment he mentions Dad. Is he that powerful or just a full-blown egomaniac?

Get him talking. Do not blindly do what he asks.

“How do I know you’re not bluffing?”

His cold facade breaks and he looks pissed. For a second, I’m afraid he’s going to hit me or something by the look on his face.

But instead he whispers, “Currently, your father and the Landrys are still in Arkansas and are debating whether or not to defy me and leave the island. Mrs. Landry hasn’t stopped crying since the three of you left.”

I can’t speak. And I can’t imagine what it’s like for Dad and the Landrys.

“I can tell by your expression that you believe me now.”

Thomas steps aside so I can pass through the door before he shuts and locks it again. I say a quick prayer Teeny won’t wake while I’m gone. I’m surprised when we head to a door across the hall rather than down it. Ethan’s window isn’t as close as I thought it was.

Thomas pulls a set of keys from his pocket and I stare at the patches on the uniform. City of New Orleans. The key ring is full, maybe thirty keys in all, but it takes him no time to find the right one.

The door opens and Ethan is tied to a chair in the center of the room.

I run to him, throwing my arms around him. He can’t move but he burrows his head into my neck.

“Are you and Teeny okay?” He whispers in my ear.

I nod, unable to talk.

Ethan pulls back to look at me. “Your cheek looks terrible.”

I let out a desperate laugh. “You don’t look that much better. Weren’t you the one who said to stay out of trouble?” He’s got a black eye and a busted lip.

“Yeah, I’m having a little trouble taking my own advice.”

His room is similar to ours—single mattress on the floor with the same white sheets. No card table of snacks though, just a small ice chest and the same little light fixture on the wall. And a bucket. He does have the same shuttered window with the same little brass padlock, but his room would look out to the back of the building.

“Why is he tied up like this?” I scream at Thomas.

He ignores my question. “Anna, kneel down beside him so your face is close to his.”

This is such an odd request, I drop to my knees without thinking what he’s asking. Ethan looks nervous and begins to fidget in his bindings.

Tyler steps in the room—mask back on—and hands Thomas a rolled-up newspaper and a camera.

Thomas says something to him in Spanish, then Tyler turns to leave the room without looking at me once.

Thomas hands me the paper and says, “Hold this in front of you.”

I look down and it’s the front page of the
Times-Picayune
with what I’m assuming is today’s date. I hold it up and look at Ethan. I don’t like the expression on his face.

“Anna, don’t do it. Move away from me right now.”

I don’t understand. I scoot back, mainly because of the crazed look on Ethan’s face, but Thomas stops me when he says, “Don’t make me involve Elena in this.”

I move back in and hold the paper up, just as he requested.

“Look right here.”

I turn toward Thomas and blink at the flash from the camera.

“You son of a bitch, you’re sending evidence you have us and telling them where we are,” Ethan yells, then tries to get out of the chair but all he does is fall over sideways.

Oh my God, oh my God, Oh my God…

“Señor Vega required proof and I’m happy to oblige.”

I try to pick Ethan up or untie him or something. This shouldn’t be a shock—Thomas said he was using us as bait—but this makes it so real. Mateo will know where we are. He will come to New Orleans to kill us
.

Thomas grabs my arm and starts pulling while I hold on to Ethan for dear life.

I whisper in his ear, “We’re across the hall. Masked guy is someone I knew from Florida.” I turn to Thomas and beg, “Please let him stay with Teeny and me. I swear we won’t cause any trouble.”

“No,” he answers.

I kick Thomas away, hitting him on the side of the knee and he goes down. I dig in closer to Ethan again and whisper, “I got to the roof, it’s steep. Don’t know what to do.”

Thomas gets up, grabs me by the shoulders and I feel a sharp prick on my shoulder.

“Ow!”

I stop moving. Thomas lets go and moves toward Ethan. It looks like Ethan’s still screaming but I can’t hear him. I can’t hear anything. Vader leans over Ethan but everything gets blurry. Stars dance in front of my eyes and my tongue gets thick.

And then it all fades away.

My eyes pop open and I’m back in my room, in the bed with Teeny, who’s sleeping next to me.

Did I see Ethan? Or did I dream that? I don’t remember leaving Ethan’s room. Or getting in this bed. My hand goes to the back of my shoulder, finding the tender part immediately.

He drugged me again.

The room is dark but there is a soft pink light filtering in through the crack in the shutters. I can’t figure how long I’ve been out this time. I want to wake Teeny up and ask her how much time has passed, but I don’t. I’m scared to know. Crawling out of the bed, I start pacing the room. We have to get out of here. Out o
f
New Orleans. That may not be the best solution, but it’s better than staying here, a pawn in this sick game between two assassins.

I really hope I haven’t lost too much time. I pinch off a chunk of bread from the loaf, praying it will settle my stomach. Whatever Thomas gave me has left me feeling hungover.