The Rules for Breaking (15 page)

And then it dawns on me: I forgot to tell Ethan about Noah.

Teeny finally starts moving.

“Teeny, how long was I gone?”

“Huh? Gone? Where’d ya go?” she asks, and then stretches back, arching her back off the mattress.

She was asleep when I left to see Ethan. Does this mean I left and came back before she ever woke up?

I tell Teeny I saw Ethan but I don’t mention the newspaper or the camera or blacking out. Mainly because I’m freaked out over the whole thing.

An entire day goes by without a visit from Thomas or Tyler. It’s the longest day of my life.

When the light starts fading from the room, I wait patiently for Teeny to fall asleep. The second her breathing changes and I know she’s out, I throw open the shutters. It’s quiet again but there’s traffic on the street. It’s still early, darkness hasn’t completely taken over yet. I hear the clip-clop of the horse hooves again, and this time the carriage is headed in my direction. It’s a long carriage, holding maybe ten people. The driver is turned to the side and seems to be giving some sort of tour. The closer he gets, the easier it is to make out his words.

I need to time this perfectly. I have no doubt things will be bad for us on our own, but I feel certain that once Mateo gets to town, things will not end well for us.

And as sure as I am it will be bad for us to stay, I’m equally scared to death to leave. Even if we’re rescued, there’s still the contract on us. We’ll be out in the open. Agent Williams’s part in this will likely rip the entire program apart. There’s still Agent Hammond to consider as well. I sink back in the window and fight down the bile that crawls up my throat. What would Ethan do? Yell at the top of his lungs for help? Figure something else out? I’m completely torn.

I hide out of sight, but keep the shutters open so I can hear when the guide gets close. I don’t want to scream for help until I’m sure he can hear me. It would suck if I started yelling and Thomas heard me first.

The carriage driver stops right in front of our building and turns to his passengers. He’s talking to them through a microphone attached to a speaker and his scratchy, amplified voice echoes through the street.

“And here we are at the Old Ursuline Convent. Today, it’s a museum run by the priests over at the cathedral. It’s the oldest building in the French Quarter, completed in 1750, and the only building left after the great fire.”

I have to try something or I may regret losing the only opportunity I get to save us. Hanging the top half of my body out of the window, I wave my arms back and forth. The driver has his back to me and the people in the carriage don’t seem to notice my movements.

The driver keeps talking, his booming voice filling the empty night air. “After the fire, the Spanish ruled this area for a short time and rebuilt everything in the Spanish style, which is why Ursuline is the only building in the French Quarter with French architecture. But it was the residents of Ursuline who are the most interesting thing about this convent—and I’m not talking about the nuns. I’m talking about the Casket Girls.”

I can hear some faint mumblings of the passengers but for the most part, he’s got their full attention.

Just as he’s about to explain what or who the “Casket Girls” are, another carriage turns onto the street from the opposite direction. But this carriage is partying. It’s as full as the other one, but the riders seem young, college age or just older, and they are having a
very
good time. Instead of the driver giving a tour, he’s playing music over his speaker, a loud, thumping mix. The carriage shakes as the girls dance in their seats and one even uses the pole that holds up the canopy as a…pole to dance on. It’s amazing the whole thing hasn’t tipped over.

I just need one person to see me.

Camera flashes pop and I’m still waving my hands around like a lunatic. The talking tour guide starts yelling at the music tour guide. They pass each other almost right in front of my window.

Nothing.

No one sees me.

Dumb tourists.

The room gets darker and the quiet cool night air fills our room as I settle in for the next carriage to come our way.

Rules for disappearing
by Witness Protection prisoner #18A7R04M:

Never tell anyone your secrets….

New rule by Anna Boyd:

Keeping secrets usually makes everything worse—not better.

dreamed about Tyler last night. I was back in Florida with my long blond hair and still somewhat carefree attitude. Like Witness Protection wouldn’t last forever and somehow I’d have my perfect life back. It was really more like a memory than a dream. We were on the beach, hanging out with a few friends and it was nice.

There was a street fair going on and he pulled me in the photo booth that was set up on the sidewalk. We smiled at the camera and then he kissed me for the first time.

Later that day he was teasing me, asking me about old boyfriends…wanted to know if there was any boy back home that I still had a crush on…now that I was his girl. And I got so nervous when I thought about Brandon. Now I understand why.

The truth about his murder was locked in the deep recesses of my brain, but I still wasn’t ready to let it free.

And again, I think Tyler was trying to get something out of me and I was totally blind.

My stomach is in knots trying to understand how the guy I knew then could be wrapped up in something as sick as this. Was he in it from the beginning? Or was he brought in after the fact? The first time I ever saw Tyler was just after we moved to Naples and I was still beating myself up over screwing up our last placement with my drunken escapade on Facebook.

Mom was still under control and Teeny hadn’t completely closed off. Looking back, we were in that sweet spot right before the storm. We had hope. After leaving Florida, it was a disaster. But there, with our apartment a mere two blocks from the beach, life wasn’t completely horrible.

Tyler was on the beach, just sitting in the sand. He asked if I wanted to throw a Frisbee around, said he’d been ditched by his friends. He was so cute, I couldn’t resist. And for the next several nights, he was just sort of there. It wasn’t long before the two of us were making plans and spending a lot of time together.

Until we got hauled out of that placement.

My last day in Naples was the best and worst. The best because I felt like Tyler and I had really connected in the sweeping warm waters of the Gulf and the worst because it’s the day it was all ripped away. The suits busted through our apartment door, and within twenty minutes there was no sign that we had ever lived there. I left that placement dressed like Sandy from
Grease
—supertight black pants and all—waiting for Tyler, who was supposed to be dressed as Danny, to pick me up for a Halloween costume party.

I spent the next two placements, short as they were, being a total bitch to any boy who approached me. It wasn’t worth the feelings of guilt that swamped you after deserting someone who cared about you.

And then I met Ethan. And he got under my skin in a way that no one else ever had, including Tyler. And as much as I tried, I couldn’t scare him off. He called bullshit on my bullshit. And now he’s in this mess because of me and for whatever reason, Tyler has something to do with that.

“Sissy, do you think Francesca and Henry finally found each other?” She doesn’t wait for me to answer, just keeps talking. “I think they did. Maybe he found out she got on the wrong boat and he came here to get her. How cool would it be if he just showed up here one day and rescued her!”

I start to worry that maybe the letters are becoming too important to her. But then if she’s going to obsess over something, I’d rather it be them than Thomas and Tyler.

“Francesca says it was miserable being here during the summer. Like it was really hot and there were huge bugs and people got sick all the time just from their bites.” Teeny scans the newest letter she was able to free from the envelope. “I guess they didn’t have any air-conditioning back then.”

I crawl across the room, exhausted, since I fell asleep leaning against the wall, waiting for another carriage to come by.

“What’s it say?” I ask.

Teeny hands me the yellowed paper and my eyes try to focus on the tiny script. God, how did she write this small and neat?

And sure enough, she goes into great detail about the summer heat and how other girls who had come from France with her weren’t handling the conditions here well and were getting very ill. I drop the letter and look to the ceiling. There wasn’t air-conditioning back then, but there is now. So there has to be a vent, right? Maybe that’s how we can get out of this room!

But all I see are rough wooden beams and plaster.

Running to our small bathroom, I flip the light and see a small grate in the corner, painted the same color as the ceiling. It’s not very big but I might be able to squeeze through it. I never noticed it there. Judging by the walls, the bathroom was a later addition to this room and this space was probably part of the bigger room at one point. I can barely reach the grate.

Teeny follows me back into the bathroom once I’ve gotten the wooden plunger and watches from the opposite corner.

“Where’d you get that?” she asks.

“From the other bathroom with the shower.”

I jab the grate until one corner pops out. Continuing around the edges, the entire thing breaks free. One more jab and the grate falls to the floor.

I’m so excited it’s hard to breathe. “I’m going up.”

“What?” Teeny squeals.

I put one foot on the sink and use it to push myself in the air, grabbing the edges of the opening. There’s a white air duct fitted to the hole, but when I touch it it feels like fabric, and I unhook it from the opening, pushing it aside.

“Teeny, push my feet up.”

With the extra help, I’m able to pull myself inside the hole and get my elbows braced inside. It’s dark up here and bigger than I thought it would be. I heave myself all the way in then turn and look down at Teeny. She’s got her arms raised like she wants me to pull her up.

“You stay. I won’t be long—just taking a look around.”

She nods and I move away before that disappointed face makes me change my mind about leaving her.

The area is big enough for me to stand and only duck my head a little bit. It’s dark and the only thing I can really see is the maze of white ducts worming their way through the space. I head directly across from my room, hoping to find Ethan. It’s super dusty up here and I’m terrified about the little creatures that call this space home.

At the spot where the air duct dives into the floor, I move it to the side and peer in. Pure relief. There he is.

But something is wrong with him. He’s lying on his side, curled in a ball. His shirt has inched up and his side is black and blue.

Oh God! What happened to him?

“Ethan,” I whisper. I pull on the grate, trying to get it open but it won’t budge.

He doesn’t move.

“Ethan,” I say a little louder.

His head lifts off the mattress and he looks around the room.

“Up here. In the ceiling.”

He turns over, letting out an awful moan. It must be so painful to move. “Anna?”

“Yes. Up here. Look for a painted grate.” I’m still pulling and pushing on it but it’s stuck. I’ve never felt so desperate to touch him…to be near him.

By the time he’s standing underneath me, I want to cry. Pain is etched across his face.

“What happened to you?”

He holds his side when he tries to reach the grate. He’s not even close. He jumps up once and comes back down, collapsing on the mattress.

It takes a moment before he answers me. “That asshole in the mask. After Thomas drugged you, he turned on me and started kicking me. I was tied to that chair and couldn’t even defend myself.”

We have to get out of here. I scan the room and there’s nothing for him to stand on.

“How’d you get up there?”

“Mine was in our bathroom. I stood on the sink and pushed myself up.”

“How’d you get yours open?”

“I have a wooden plunger that I poked it with until it popped off.”

Ethan eyes the grate from the mattress. “I’m not sure I’d fit through there even if it was open and I could get to it.”

“How long did they keep you tied up?”

“I woke up untied. Thomas drugged me once the other dude finished beating the shit out of me. I don’t think I’ve been awake long. Everything is sort of running together.”

Things are so much worse for Ethan and I’m sure Tyler is the reason.

“The roof is really steep. I got outside but couldn’t get anywhere. We’re in the French Quarter and I think this building is an old convent that’s now a museum. I saw two different carriages full of tourists last night. I waved at them but they didn’t see me. We’re pretty far from the street.”

“Well, at least we’re not too far from home. That sucks no one saw you.”

“Yeah, but if it’s a regular tour, they’ll be back tonight. I’m really torn about taking a chance on our own or trusting Thomas not to kill us. But after seeing you like this, we can’t stay here.”

He runs his hands across his face. “I’ve been thinking the same thing. We’ve got to figure out where we go if we get out of here. Who do we trust?”

I shrug. “I don’t know. Thomas told me yesterday that if we called the cops he would know and if we called our dads he would know. Told me my dad and your family is debating whether or not to defy him and leave the island. Do you think we’d be better off staying here?”

Ethan closes his eyes and it’s so hard to see him like this. “I don’t know, Anna. I might have said yes until he killed Agent Parker. My gut says to scream until you’re hoarse at anything and everything that passes by your window. Don’t even wait for it to be dark. But the thought of someone out there hunting you down makes me want to kill someone. Maybe if we could get out of here and get in touch with Agent Williams…”

“Oh my God, I totally forgot to tell you! Agent Williams’s grandson is in the room next to us.”

“What?” Ethan sits up quickly then groans, grabbing his side again. “What the hell is going on? Do you think he was blackmailed into giving us up? Does the grandson know anything about any of this?” Ethan asks.

“His name is Noah, and, no, he doesn’t. He’s young, just a year older than Teeny, and pretty terrified. He got here about two days before us. And if it was blackmail, why’s he still here?”

Ethan moves slowly to the edge of the mattress and rolls to a sitting position. “So who’s the guy with Thomas? You said it was someone you knew from Florida. What’s he got to do with this?”

Ethan doesn’t know about Tyler. I just didn’t see the point in talking about him. Now, it seems like a pretty bad idea to tell him he’s an old boyfriend, especially since he seems to be taking out his hurt feelings on Ethan.

“Just a guy I knew. I haven’t talked to him since I yanked that mask off, so I don’t know why he’s here.”

He has a funny grin. “You yanked his mask off?”

“Yeah. I couldn’t quit thinking his voice was familiar and it was making me nuts. So I grabbed it when he got close enough.”

“How old is he? He doesn’t seem that old.”

I shrug, then realize he probably can’t see that. “Not sure. Not much older than us.”

“Did he go to your school?”

Ethan knows I’m hiding something, and I swore I’d never lie to him again. But I can hear that tone in his voice. It won’t help if he knows we used to date. No telling what Ethan will say to him. Thomas doesn’t need a reason to decide Ethan is too much trouble to keep around, and he can’t handle another beating.

“No, just someone who hung out at the beach near our apartment.”

He picks up an empty water bottle and throws it across the room. “I knew he knew you. He’s baiting me. Drops little comments about you every time he walks in the room. And then when he was kicking me, it felt personal.” He looks up at the grate. “Be careful around him. I think he’s got a thing for you. He’s psycho.”

Yeah, I definitely don’t need to tell him we dated.

“Ethan, don’t fight with him and give Thomas a reason to get rid of you. He’s not worth it.”

Ethan stares at the ground for a few minutes before looking back up. “How’s Teeny?”

“She’s okay. She broke down yesterday but I think that’s good. She doesn’t need to hold it all in.”