Rule Number One (Rule Breakers Book 1) Read online

  Table of Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter Thirty-One

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  Rule Number One

  Book One of

  The Rulebreaker Series

  By Nicky Shanks

  Rule Number One

  Copyright © 2017 by Nicky Shanks.

  All rights reserved.

  First Print Edition: December 2017

  Limitless Publishing, LLC

  Kailua, HI 96734

  www.limitlesspublishing.com

  Formatting: Limitless Publishing

  ISBN-13: 978-1-64034-279-8

  ISBN-10: 1-64034-279-6

  No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to locales, events, business establishments, or actual persons—living or dead—is entirely coincidental.

  Dedication

  To my husband…my own personal Oliver Jackson.

  Life is always a tornado, but you’re my calm in any storm.

  If you’re lucky enough to find someone you can share your whole self with…keep them.

  Fall for them.

  Let yourself be loved.

  To Stacy…always my number one fan and supporter.

  I can’t thank you enough for what you’ve done for me and this journey.

  This series would never have been born if not for you encouraging me to try.

  For you, I will always be grateful.

  Table of Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter Thirty-One

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  Chapter One

  Oliver

  I wake myself up from a light sleep, hungover and still exhausted.

  A girl with a mess of dark hair stirs next to me and yawns. Her morning-after breath reaches me and I wrinkle my nose. What’s her name again? Candace? Mary? Amber? She stretches and moans, making me smile as she turns to face me. I close my eyes quickly, hoping she hadn’t seen me awake so she won’t try to have a conversation. I just want her to leave. Ever since my grandfather and father both died—and my ex, Heather, destroyed my life shortly after—I’ve lived my life by four simple rules that can be applied to any situation in life.

  Rule number one: Don’t let your guard down.

  Rule number two: Don’t take anything for granted.

  Rule number three: Keep your secrets safe.

  Rule number four: Don’t destroy your own happiness.

  Four rules. Four simple, easy rules. So far, living by these rules has been blissful. Except for when I’m alone—like, really alone—and the silence suffocates me.

  I feel the girl move from the bed, and I pop open my left eye to watch her pick up her clothes, piece by piece, and look nervously back toward me before slipping out of the bedroom.

  My eyes open all the way when I hear her shut the front door, and I stare at the paste-white ceiling.

  All alone again.

  I am a mess.

  I hate Heather for sleeping with her brother-in-law in my bed, but there was no way I could’ve known she would do that to me. She always seemed so sweet and normal, interested only in me. I finally realized her game when I caught her, but how could you instantly throw three years with someone out the window and forget them? At first, her betrayal didn’t make sense to me. How could she cheat on someone like me?

  Me, of all people.

  Now I only have one opinion of her: She’s as fake as those cheap “diamonds” she wears.

  I want to sleep for the entire weekend, but I know that isn’t going to make me feel any better. What’s-her-name that just left—she makes me feel better for long enough periods of time that I can turn off the world and indulge a little. I shiver at my shallowness, closing my eyes when the doorbell rings. I hope to God it isn’t What’s-her-name. These women…they’re always leaving something behind to try and come back for more Oliver Jackson.

  The doorbell rings over and over, like a song, as I make my way toward it. I’m getting ready to yell at whoever this is. “What?” I growl, swinging the door open before looking through the peephole. That probably wasn’t a smart idea in case it is What’s-her-name.

  “Man, move.” A broad shoulder pushes me to the side and Casey, my best friend, rolls his eyes at me in annoyance as he enters the apartment. I watch him shove his cell phone in his jeans pocket and look at me, wrinkling his nose because I’m only wearing boxers. “Can you put some clothes on? What is this place? Magic Oliver?”

  I scoff, but I know I look good; he doesn’t have to remind me he’s jealous, or that he looks the complete opposite of me. I notice that he hasn’t washed his copper blonde hair in a few days. For someone who wishes he were more of a ladies’ man, he sure the hell doesn’t put a lot of effort into trying to become one. “What do you want, Casey? I need sleep.” I yawn and pick up a gray V-neck t-shirt from the back of the sofa, sniffing it for any unknown odors. After pulling it on, I find some sweatpants on the floor and do the same thing, watching the disgust in his eyes grow.

  Okay, so maybe he’s not the only one with a few issues in the hygiene department.

  “Okay, so I have a great opportunity for you, Ollie,” he says.

  I sigh. Here we go.

  “Nora—you know, the girl I’ve been chasing around for three months—finally gave me the green light, man.” His schoolboy grin and eager nod make me extra nervous. “There’s just one little problem—she wants me to take her camping. Fucking camping, Ollie. I’ve nev
er been camping in my entire life.”

  I laugh in his face. “It’s just camping…what are you so afraid of?”

  Casey scoffs. “Everything, asshole. Bugs, animals, creepy sounds and shadows—”

  “Fine, you big baby. Just use my cabin at Lake Reed; that way it’s still outdoors but indoors too. The best of both worlds. Problem solved.”

  He snaps his fingers at me in enthusiasm. “Good idea! See, that’s why I came here.” He looks at me and gives me a cheesy smile, but I’ve been down this road way too many times with Casey to believe that he doesn’t want more from me.

  “You are such a bad liar,” I say to him. “What else do you want?”

  Casey looks sick, like he’s trying to figure out how to tell me he slept with my girlfriend. “Don’t say no—listen to me first.”

  “What else, Casey?”

  “Now, just listen first—”

  “What. Else. Do. You—”

  He cuts me off this time. “I need you to go with us.”

  I laugh; I really think he’s trying to be funny. “No.”

  “Come on, Ollie, she’s insisting she bring a few of her friends with her and I want to bring friends too.” He’s out of his mind if he thinks I’m gonna be paraded around a bunch of vanilla virgins, walking on eggshells the whole time and hoping I don’t offend someone by walking around half-naked. Or worse—one of them falls in love with me and I end up getting stalked again. That definitely wasn’t the best week of my life.

  “Ollie—”

  I shake my head. “No.”

  “But—”

  “NO,” I say louder, sleepily walking toward the kitchen to start making coffee. “Can’t you get a girl to sleep with you without dragging me along? Wouldn’t it be easier to get them in bed without me there?” The amused smile on my face isn’t as amusing to Casey. I know he hates when I point out that we’re different, and I know he really hates it when I remind him how many women pass through my door while he has to chase one all the way to Lake Reed.

  I honestly have nothing better to do these days. Since I kicked Heather out of the apartment, I haven’t thought about my next move. I graduated from NYU three years ago; my business degree is gathering dust on a shelf. When my grandfather died and left me all of his money, I didn’t see a need to spend endless hours sending out resumes.

  “Ollie, come on, man. She’s bringing three friends, and I have Harley and Victor going with us. I just need one more slightly less idiotic friend than the rest of my options.” He clenches his jaw. “I need someone who won’t embarrass me.”

  I shake my head. “I doubt any of those girls will enjoy my company anyway.” I take my cup from the machine and add a few spoonfuls of sugar before blowing on the steam. “You do realize that Heather just basically screwed my head up only a few months ago, right?”

  Casey smiles wide. “Yes! Exactly, which is why you need this.”

  “I don’t need this.” I wave him off. “I need to have sex with random girls, that’s what I need to do. I’m pissed off, Casey—no amount of faking a good time will fix that.”

  “I’ve known you for over twenty years. I know when you’re pissed, and you’re not pissed—you’re sort of…broken.” He slowly says the last word. It feels like a hot dagger through my torso just the same, if not worse.

  “Screw you, I’m not broken,” I retort and cross my arms over my chest.

  Casey holds up his hands. “Okay, okay, sorry. I just need you on this, Ollie.”

  I close my eyes and slowly shake my head from side to side. “Dammit,” I hiss. I know I’m making him feel uncomfortable, but I give him what he wants. “Fine.”

  He pumps his fist in the air and claps his hands. “Okay, we leave tonight—”

  “Whoa—” I stop him before he can go any further. “You want to leave tonight?” Casey pouts. “Fine, but no more surprises, and you owe me more than one for this.”

  He blows out a hard breath. “Okay, good. Yes, I promise I owe you more than one for this.”

  “Way more than just one.” I cross my arms again; this time I mean business. I’m sort of a pushover for Casey and his crazy tactics to get women out of his league. Sometimes I get lucky too and they have decent-looking friends, but I never remember their names, either.

  “Get out—text me the details.” He gets up, salutes me, and races from the apartment before I can change my mind. My mind wanders to Heather again—the way her pale, milky skin glows in the moonlight when she wears those little lacy outfits to bed. I lick my lips and clear my throat, remembering that I’m alone…again.

  Three months ago, I had it all. Hell, I had more than everything a guy could ever dream of: I had the girl, the popularity, and the money.

  Until I didn’t have the girl anymore.

  I think that’s where I went wrong, now that I stop and really think about it. When I say that I had it all, that might be the biggest lie I’ve ever told. I have no family left after my grandfather died—my mother disappeared when I was five and my father died when I was fourteen. I’m sort of a curse on my family, people dying and leaving wherever I go. When my father died, my grandfather was forced to take me in, twisting me into something I learned to hate, and then he died of lung cancer.

  …Actually, no. That’s not entirely true—he died from being an asshole and we both knew it. I still miss him sometimes, though. Not often, but times like this—times when I need a swift kick in the ass for being such an idiot. Right now, he’d say something like, “Oliver, I told you that girl was trouble; stop being a waste of a man and take life by the balls.” The memory of his raspy voice haunts the walls of my mind and I shiver.

  “Seriously…come on, man,” I say and shake my head, my dark hair falling into my eyes. Brushing it back, I sigh and walk toward the spare bedroom of the apartment that houses my personal gym, and after a few hours of working off the Heather tension, I shower and change into jeans and a green, long-sleeved shirt.

  My phone dings as I put on socks and boots, pushing my hair to the side. Casey’s name pops up on the screen, followed by a series of texts.

  Casey: Thank you so much for doing this, Nora and I are already on our way to the cabin.

  Casey: Can you pick up her friend?

  Casey: She lives in Rockford, 411 South Avenue.

  Casey: Her name is Julie. She’s expecting you around three.

  Casey: Can you also get snacks?

  I scoff and throw the phone onto the bed. “Great.” I start packing my things. That jerk only gave me an hour to pick the girl up and that was thirty minutes ago. I pick my phone back up, typing a reply.

  Oliver: The master bedroom is mine and mine only.

  I send it to him and start throwing stuff into my suitcase without any real organization. As I close the suitcase and click it shut, I start wondering what Julie looks like. No matter what, she’s probably going to talk my ear off the entire drive about makeup and who’s dating who in Hollywood, and I can’t think of anything worse.

  The suitcase has a brochure sticking out from the side, so I snatch it and look at the cover. It features the waves of a blue ocean behind a group of women with leis around their necks, swaying their hips side to side.

  Hawaii with Heather.

  My face grows red with heat.

  I hate her.

  I hate packing too. Heather always does—did—it for me.

  I’m going to be late if I don’t leave soon, so I grab the suitcase and the small bag with other essentials in it, lock my apartment door behind me, and stick a note on my across-the-hall neighbor, Mrs. Atchley’s, door, reminding her to feed my fish for me. The building fades in the distance as I race toward the black dot that the GPS is taking me to.

  Julie.

  It’s taking me toward Julie.

  The houses look the same in the cookie-cutter neighborhood, and I stop when the GPS lady tells me to, in front of a large red-bricked house. Biting my lip, I don’t see anyone waiting for me, so I sigh
and leave the car, my long legs shuffling to the front door.

  I want to get this over with.

  I push the doorbell and wait. Nothing. I push it again.

  The door finally opens, slowly, and a small boy with wild red hair and freckles looks up at me, his eyes covered by thick glasses. “What?” he snaps.

  I frown. “I’m here for Julie?”

  “And?”

  My laugh is quick and cold. “Look kid, can you just get her for me? Is she your mom or something?”

  The kid scoffs, loudly. “You’re a stranger, you idiot, like I’d ever tell you anything. You could be a spy.”

  My lips flatten. “Seriously, kid, get Julie.”

  The kid crosses his arms over his small chest. “I don’t know a ‘Julie.’”

  “Clyde,” I hear a woman say from out of view, “let him know I’ll be out in a few minutes, okay? I’m almost done packing. I didn’t have much notice.”

  The kid snaps his fingers. “Hear that?”

  “I can help you with your things,” I call through the open door.

  Clyde snorts. “Wow, what a loser.”

  I shake my head at him. “I’m not a loser, trust me.”

  “You sound like a total douche.” Clyde mocks me: “I can help you with your things.”

  “Clyde, leave him alone,” the woman says from inside the house. “Okay…” Her voice gets louder and she finally appears. “I’m ready, sorry. Nora never gives enough notice for anything she does.”

  I grunt and try not to stare at her. I swear to God I could have a damn heart attack right here. Julie’s electric blue eyes lock on mine and she blushes. I can get used to that. Her honey blonde hair is thrown into a messy bun on her head and her pink-and-black flannel shirt skims the top of the light denim cut-off shorts she has on, displaying her curvy frame for all to see. I can see goosebumps forming on the alabaster skin on her legs as a breeze kicks up. I bite my lip as my eyes stop at the top button of her shirt; it’s undone and flirting with the top of a lacy black—