Page 51 of House Rules
“I’ll let the staff know.” Atticus picks up his phone. He’ll make sure everything is arranged so that the yacht is ready for us, stocked with food and drink and anything else we could have need of while sailing.
“Is she coming with us?” Storm asks.
I look at Phoenix, surprised to realize I’m still holding her hand. “Yeah. She’s coming.”
I’m actually a little conflicted about bringing her with us. I don’t have a choice. It’s part of the deal with my father that she goes with us wherever we go, even if we stay on the property. But the boat is special. Despite Maverick’s joking, it’s not for hookers, drugs and parties. When it’s just the four of us in the open water, we’re not Titans. It’s the only place where we get to be Atticus, Maverick, Storm, and Con. No pretense, no bullshit, no games.
“Go get changed,” I whisper in Phoenix’s ear. “ I want you in those daisy dukes and a white top.”
It was the only outfit in that entire closet that wasn’t stripper wear with easy access. At first I wasn’t even sure why I bought it, and then I remembered. It looked like her. Back when I first saw her, sweet, innocent and untainted by the ugliness of this world we lived in. I was going to win this little game, but maybe tonight wasn’t going to be just about the game. Maybe it was our chance to see if Phoenix really fit, if she could possibly be one of us.
Disturbed by the realization that maybe revenge wasn’t my end goal after all, I go to get ready.
The secondwe step on deck, the wind wraps around us like a breath held too long and finally let go. Salt air, diesel, and sunwarmed teak fill my lungs—sharp and grounding.
I glance at her. She blinks against the breeze, one hand brushing her hair off her face.
The moment her feet hit the deck, something shifts. Her shoulders drop half an inch. Her breath comes out easier. She doesn’t say it, but I feel it.
She’s safe out here. And I hate how much that fucking matters to me.
When we board the boat, Storm goes below deck, where he keeps his throwing knives. After an incident involving his mother, a hotel guest, and some wallpaper when we were kids, he was no longer allowed to have them in the resort, so the boat is the only place he gets to practice.
Atticus goes to the helm to program our destination. We won’t be going far, just far enough that we can’t see land. Far enough to not feel like our parents are watching us. Far enough for their expectations to blur and lose shape.
Maverick goes to go do whatever the fuck Maverick feels like doing.
I grab Phoenix and bring her over to one of the main decks, and sit down with her on one of the lounge chairs.
I lie back, wrap my arms around her, and turn my face up to the fading sunlight.
It takes far too long for the tension in her body to recede, but she finally relaxes into me and closes her eyes. The ocean breeze skims over us, cool and bracing.
“Why are we out here?” she asks, not opening her eyes.
“Out here, no one is trying to get to us. There are no family expectations to deal with, no townie girls or randos trying to get in our pants.”
Phoenix snorts.
“What? You don’t think we get tired of being chased after?”
“I don’t think you mind the attention,” she says with just a little bit of snark.
“You’d be surprised. Out here we can be whoever we want. We don’t have to be the Titans. Out here, we can’t get into any trouble by ourselves, so you don’t have to be our little babysitter tonight. I mean, you have to be out here with us, but tonight just relax. Just enjoy it.”
Her body has gone stiff again, so I press my thumbs into the nape of her neck and start massaging her shoulders.
Almost instantly, her muscles go lax, and a low moan escapes her pretty lips.
“What do you like to do for fun, Phoenix?” I ask. A need to understand her—to figure out what makes her tick, what she loves, what she hates…why she left—seizes me..
She only laughs at my question.
“No.” I press my fingers deeper into the muscles of her shoulders. “Don’t do that. Tell me what you like to do, princess. Do you like to go to the movies? Do you play video games? What do you do?”
“I work.” she says, like it’s the most obvious thing.
“Right, but what do you do after work?”
