[Unbreakable 02.0] Rule Breaker

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[Unbreakable 02.0] Rule Breaker Page 16

by Kat Bastion


  “I’m so sorry, Mase.” She offered words I’d heard before. But they’d never felt as soothing. Gave me the courage to tell her more. Confess all of it.

  “Later, the police asked me if I saw anything. Any small thing, they’d said. A license plate. A car make and model. An unusual sound from the engine. Words said or shouted out. Anything.” My voice cracked.

  Familiar pain flared in my chest. “I struggled with huge guilt that I hadn’t done anything. Hadn’t even glanced up for a second.” I forced a hard breath past the choking cramp in my throat. “Couldn’t tell the police a damn thing.”

  “You did exactly what you were supposed to. You were there for a brother you loved.” Her hand tightened around mine.

  A slight tug made me glance toward her. She’d shifted to prop onto her elbow, facing me. In the darkness, her barely discernable features were blurred by the tears in my eyes. I blinked them away. “Damn wind,” I muttered.

  “It’s okay, Mase.” She slowly shook her head. “Not everything has a reason. We don’t get to solve it all. And maybe we don’t have to. Maybe we just live for them.”

  I stared at her. With all the psychiatrists I’d churned through on my own—because the Prices never had problems—none had explained it quite so simply.

  And I’d begun my journey chasing waves, which had led me to her, because I’d finally realized I was happiest on the wave. Waves I’d discovered with Deke. “How’d you get to be so wise?”

  Her chin dipped on a headshake, hiding her face behind the dark silk of her hair. Then she settled down, pressing her shoulder against mine. She tucked her bent arm under her head again and stared skyward. “I’m not. I’ve just…I’ve been there too.”

  Her voice quieted with every word. Then she sucked in a stuttered breath.

  I braced myself. Then I tightened my hand around hers. She’d supported my heartfelt confession. I would be a rock for her.

  “My worst moment?” She paused, then let out a shaky breath. “Watching my mom die.”

  Leilani…

  I’d never said that aloud…until Mase.

  Everyone else knew. How much my makuahine meant to me, how closed we’d been.

  The devastation I’d suffered when she’d gone.

  Attached to her long skirts, I’d harvested every gourd with her. Together, we’d shopped at every farmer’s market, played in the ocean. I’d learned to trust in others from her.

  “Oh, wow. Lani…”

  He breathed out my name with sadness, but I reached over and silenced him further with a gentle fingertip touched to his lips. I couldn’t handle hearing him say he was sorry, even though I’d expressed it to him over his brother only moments ago.

  I would not break down.

  Not again.

  His gentle whisper of my name, thick with emotion, reminded me of something. An important something. My eyes drifted shut on memories that flooded in. “Makuahine, my mom, she’s the only one who has ever called me Lani. Before you.”

  He needed to know why I’d been so sensitive about it. Everyone had known. But not him.

  A brush of fingertips trailed over one corner of my lips, then his hand cupped my cheek. “Leilani is a beautiful name. What does it mean?”

  Finding strength in who I was, in the love for the woman who’d named me, I opened my eyes to meet his gaze. “Heavenly flower. My mom loved rare orchids.”

  Mind drifting, I recalled the lyrical sound of her voice: “You’re my rarest flower of all.”

  “Thank you,” Mase whispered, “for sharing your name with me. I’m honored, Lani.”

  My breath caught at the reverence in his tone, at the unexpected tie I’d formed with the man only inches away. Yet vulnerable as I felt in the intimate moment, I wanted him to know more about her. “She taught me the meaning of aloha spirit, the importance of sharing our love with others.”

  “What happened?”

  I paused, then drew in a shaky breath at the memory of those last days.

  He turned onto his side, propped up on an elbow. “It’s okay if you don’t want to tell me.”

  “No.” I partially sat up. Distanced myself, but only because I needed the space to breathe; talking about Makuahine brought her right there with us. “I want to.” I hadn’t talked about it with anyone since it’d happened and a part of me wanted to share it.

  And something about Mase made me feel safe enough to do it.

  “She died of cancer, non-Hodgkin lymphoma. It happened fast, and she didn’t want treatment.” My thoughts drifted to the day she’d broken the news to me. “I was eight. In my first weeks of third grade when she told me before school. She was deep in the rows of orchids that she raised.”

  “She raised orchids?”

  “Yeah. Orchids. Water lilies. She loved flowers. Supplied them to local restaurants for bouquets. She had a deep love for our land—‘āina—like so many Hawaiians do. ‘Aloha ‘āina,’ she’d say: Love and respect the land.”

  “Maui’s an amazing land. Clean water. Pure air. Can’t imagine how you get cancer here.”

  “Easy. A lot of people I know blame the GMO seed companies. And the pesticides they make and spray here to test them. Back then, trucks would spray our roadsides with Roundup. Near schools, churches, and homes too.”

  “They sprayed Roundup everywhere.” Disgust weighted his tone.

  “Used to. Turns out, the ones applying weren’t following the labeling instructions. Supposed to keep people and pets away after spraying until it’s dry.”

  “It’s never dry here.”

  “Yeah…” My lungs burned and I let out a heavy breath. “Her getting sick is another big part of why my brothers are so angry at outsiders. It’s not just surfers coming in and taking the waves. Big corporations snatch up our lands then think they can do whatever they want with them—like they did over a hundred years ago.”

  In my mind, I focused on Makuahine’s face, trying to remember the small dimples bracketing her mouth with her smile, her plump cheeks, skin the color of creamed coffee, eyes dark like the richest curls in heartwood koa. “She taught me to live, to discover what makes me happy and ignore the rest.”

  “The rest?”

  “The anger. It’s what my father has. My brothers. They’re filled with such hate for all the wrongs done to them, they seem to have forgotten how to do right.”

  “Wait…did you say brothers?” He put his hand on my forearm.

  “Uh…yeah. Koa on the beach? My oldest brother.”

  “How many brothers do you have?” He pushed himself more upright, enabling me to see his puzzled expression more easily. His brows furrowed as he cocked his head. “Ka…moku?”

  The possessive idiotic kanak he’d met. “Ke‘eaumoku. And no, he’s not my brother.”

  Mase’s eyes narrowed. “Ex-boyfriend?”

  I huffed out a laugh. “No. He wishes. And I have three brothers, which is plenty. You haven’t met Holokai.”

  “Big as Koa?”

  “Bigger. And more protective.” When his eyes widened, I grabbed a fistful of the front of his shirt and tugged him back down with me, grateful he hadn’t focused on my brother being a part of the group who’d lobbed a beer can up against his head. “No more talk of others. Let’s just enjoy the sky.”

  As we settled back down, a silence fell between us again, deep and comfortable. I rested my head into the crook of his shoulder as we gazed at the stars. Different constellations than those we saw halfway around the world sparkled overhead, yet they seemed to be woven of the same fabric, connected—blanketing us tiny humans down here on this lone planet with their splendor.

  I sighed, emotionally spent. Yet with Mase, I felt safe, protected…happy.

  After about five minutes, he cleared his throat. “You know we’re gonna date, right?”

  “Date?” I fought a smile at his left-field statement.

  “Yeah.”

  Amused at his formality, I nudged into his side. “Not a ‘beac
h-bunny fuck’?”

  He snorted. “Not even close.”

  Pondering the idea, I glanced at him through the darkness. “What’s dating like?”

  “You’ve never been on a date?”

  “Nope.”

  “Uhhh…” He turned, clicked on his phone, then pointed the screen at me. A bluish glow illuminated his face while he stared hard at me, narrowing his eyes. “You have had sex, right?”

  “Yes.” I shoved his phone against his chest, hoping he couldn’t see my embarrassment. “But not anything that counted.”

  He cocked his head, confusion wrinkling his brow. “What kind of sex doesn’t count?”

  I shrugged, trying to be casual about it. “The kind that doesn’t matter.”

  “Oh.” He continued to stare intently at me, like he tried to read my thoughts.

  I did my best to show only a blank page. But then, I began to wonder what he might be thinking I was thinking. “I’m not a slut.”

  “Never thought that.”

  “Good.” I frowned, unhappy with the tension between us. “It’s just…guys I know here…”

  “Guys you’ve been with?”

  “Only a couple of guys.”

  “Okay.” His tone softened.

  “Three,” I clarified. “Only three.”

  “Leilani, it’s okay. I don’t need a headcount. Or the details.”

  “No.” I let out a heavy breath. “I want you to know.”

  “Okay…whatever you want me to know.”

  I struggled to find the words to describe my lame encounters. Had no idea why they’d been so disappointing. “They…” Did what? It’d been more what they hadn’t done. “I didn’t…”

  Heat fired my face. Talking to Mase had seemed so easy about everything else.

  “How ’bout I guess?”

  I huffed out laughter. “You wanna guess the deets about my awful sex life?”

  “No.” He gave a gentle headshake. “I really don’t want specifics.” He took my hand in his, gave it a gentle squeeze. “I’m guessing none of them gave you an orgasm?”

  Oh, God. We were actually going there. “No.”

  “No, they did? Or no, they didn’t…”

  “No.” I pulled my hand from his, dropped my heating face into it, then mumbled, “I have not had an orgasm.”

  “What?” He leaned his head down close. “I can’t hear you.”

  I repeated it, but the wind whistled around me, protecting my confession.

  “Leilani.” His stern tone made me glance up. He grasped my shoulders, then pulled me up into a seated position in front of him. We were face-to-face, his inches above mine but close enough that his breath fanned over my lips as he stared into my eyes. “This is important. And I can’t hear the words you’re saying.”

  The moment felt right and incredibly raw. Standing on a precipice, toes gripping the sharp rocky edge, I sensed the wind pushing at my back, urging me to jump, trust that I’d land in safe water.

  Mase was the water…

  “I didn’t have an orgasm.”

  “With them?”

  “With them.” Be brave. He’s got you. “Or ever.”

  The intensity of his stare stole my breath. I closed my eyes, afraid I’d said too much. The lightest touch brushed over my eyelid. A kiss. Another feathered across the bridge of my nose, danced over my brow. When I inhaled deeply, his scent, salty and of the earth, poured inside me.

  With the softest touch, his lips pressed to mine. I gasped at the pleasant shock, then he gently sealed his mouth over mine, deepening the kiss.

  When we broke contact, it was for a split second. Only long enough for him to whisper a promise between our lips. “Ours will count. We matter. You matter.”

  My body relaxed at the conviction in his tone and I fell forward into his strong embrace. When tears sprang to my eyes, I buried my face into the crook of his shoulder and took a deep breath, holding tight to the man I hadn’t seen coming.

  No one had ever said anything like that to me.

  “And we will be dating.” He kissed the top of my head.

  I smiled through my tears at his perseverance. And I finally gave in to the idea.

  Yeah, I guess we will.

  A tiny part of my hardened heart melted. The rest clung to the hope that he wouldn’t crash it over the jagged rocks.

  The following week…

  Mase…

  Taking on a wave is a tricky thing.

  No two are the same.

  Skills and experience come into play—to a point.

  Because the forces of nature heavily influence the outcome.

  That’s why even the best surfers get hurt…some get killed. But every last one paddled into the situation unable to help themselves, living life on the edge of adrenaline, passion in their hearts for the thrill of the ride.

  Incredible risk. Euphoric reward.

  When I glanced at Leilani, my heart filled with pride, because the brave surfer girl who sat beside me in my truck, had decided to paddle with me toward an enormous swell building in our future.

  We didn’t know how things would turn out. No one ever did. Yet when I tore my gaze from her beautiful face and stared at the roadway, I threw out a wish that we’d make it in spite of our personal storms edging in on both sides of the horizon.

  Then I remembered our teasing banter in my kitchen less than an hour ago.

  “Whatcha packin’ there for our date?” Her curious gaze remained fixed on the frozen water bottles I’d worked into the cooler bag.

  I zipped the bag shut. “Packed. And not tellin’.”

  “Where we goin’?”

  “Not tellin’.” I gave her a pointed stare.

  When we stepped outside and she rounded the side of my truck, I opened the passenger door for her but she paused at the back corner. She turned my way, gaze tearing reluctantly away from the gear in the back.

  She tipped her head toward the boards while watching me. “The date is us surfin’?”

  “Nope.” I nodded toward the cab.

  “But…”

  “In.” I arched my brows, amused that she questioned so much, challenged me on almost everything. “Not. Tellin’.”

  Mischief flashed in her eyes. “Not even if I tempt it out of you?”

  Damn. Maybe…

  “I dunno. You well-versed in interrogation techniques?” Couldn’t help pushing her buttons. Unexpected things happened. Like her letting her true self out to play.

  “You wish, surfer boy.”

  Hell yeah, I do. But no rush. We had plenty of time. And I didn’t want to scare her from the path she’d agreed to. One small step at a time had gotten us to this point. And waiting for her? Worth every second of patience.

  “Watcha smilin’ at?” Her voice tugged me back into the present.

  “You.” Always you.

  I tried to wipe the grin from my face as we slowed for traffic. The wind from our open-window driving calmed and the tropical scent of plumeria filled my lungs. I closed my eyes and blew out a controlled breath.

  Think about nonsexual things, Mase. Like her brother. Brothers, plural…who would beat the shit out of me if they knew where my thoughts kept going about their baby sister.

  “Hey, you never told me what Makani has on you.” The reason she’d had to fly down to recruit me in the first place, why we’d even met.

  A sudden scowl crinkled her face. Adorable. Then she gave a one-shoulder shrug and slouched down, resting the ball of her bare foot on the dash.

  Silence filled the cab as she stared out the windshield.

  “Not talkin’?”

  “Don’t see the need to.”

  “Because it’s a family thing? ‘Ohana?” Maybe she needed to protect someone.

  “In a way…”

  Couldn’t fault her for wanting to be vague. Had my own demons with ‘ohana that I hadn’t opened up about. “You’ll share when you’re ready.” We both would.

  “Yeah
.” Her tone held doubt.

  “You can tell me anything, you know. No judgment.” She had to know that by now.

  “N’kay.”

  Serious topic change needed. “What’s with the zipped lips on the tour-guiding?”

  She straightened in her seat and spun toward me. “Sorry. Am I on the clock or we on a date?”

  Aha. There you are. Just needed to rile her a bit. “Date.”

  “Then, I am not your tour guide.”

  “What if I asked you to be? I’d love to know your favorite places.” Teach me about you. “Off the clock.”

  I held her gaze until I had to tear it away again to drive. But not before I saw her eyes soften, the hint of a smile. Like she understood I wanted today to be different and she wanted that too.

  She finally settled back on a nod. Only the distance between us had lessened, her bare leg only a couple of inches from mine. “Well, you don’t want to go in the water out there.”

  I glanced right, stared at nothing but gorgeous blue. “Sharks?”

  “Well, yeah. That too.”

  “Worse than sharks?”

  “Sewage runoff.”

  “Uck.” The bane of a surfer’s existence. Some locales had corporations who viewed unspoiled tropical paradise as expendable. Others had local wastewater treatment practices that failed to protect the water due to carelessness, ignorance, or cost. No coastal area fell immune. Everything eventually washed out to sea.

  “Where’s it safe?” Acting as nonchalant as possible, I lowered my right hand from the steering wheel, then casually settled it in the empty space between us on the seat.

  “Anything south of Cove Park is safe. She nodded ahead, down the coastline. Big resorts are coming up: Four Seasons, Fairmont, Grand Wailea. Golf courses. Some of the priciest homes on the island sit on beachfront there.”

  “There’s Peggy Sue’s.” She pointed toward the shopping area where I’d found Halia, my truck, then ran her fingers along the edge of the dash panel. “You talk with Kaleo after you bought her?”

 

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