Or the need for so much more.
As she dressed for the ball, a band seemed to tighten around her chest, a feeling of such loss overwhelming her as she realized she wouldn’t be able to stay out of his bed if he offered again. And she knew he would offer.
The need riding her was too great, and Gypsy knew she wasn’t strong enough to hold out against another erotic onslaught from the Breed who was becoming far too important to her in too many ways.
“I’m sorry, Mark,” she whispered as she stood in her bedroom, dressed, her hair perfectly arranged, knowing that once again she’d betrayed him. “I don’t know how to stay away from him.”
Would her brother have been angry?
She closed her eyes, remembering his smile, his laughter—
“It’s not in you not to love, Gypsy. I raised you better than that.” The memory of the conversation that had come on the heels of yet another forgotten birthday by her parents surprised her.
“I don’t need their stupid old presents or their happy birthdays.” She shrugged, her arms crossed tight over her aching chest. “They don’t matter to me. No one matters but you.” She looked into his somber eyes. “You never forget my birthdays, do you, Mark?”
His smile was incredibly gentle. “And I’ll never forget one of them,” he promised. “How could I forget the day my favorite girl started screaming like someone was killing her when she heard my voice?”
He’d told her that story so many times.
“But I shut up when you held me.” She finished it for him with a smile.
The hug he gave her had eased the hurt, as had the cake and the surprise pizza party in town with several of her friends from school.
But her parents hadn’t been there. Her sister hadn’t been there. They’d been in California on another business trip. Mark had refused to go, but Gypsy hadn’t been invited.
He wouldn’t have blamed her, she thought. But he wouldn’t have blamed her for his death either.
“What do I do?” she whispered into the silence of the bedroom. “What do I do with my life now, Mark?”
Because she knew, once she let Rule take her to his bed, Mark would really be gone in ways he hadn’t been in the past nine years. And despite the aching regret, the pain, she knew it was inevitable.
Rule Breaker. The name said it all. Because he was making her break the rules she had lived by. Forcing her to realize she was more than just Mark’s sister.
And that was something she had never wanted to do.
...
Listening to the lost, pain-filled voice through the audio device Jonas had placed in her room, Rule lowered his head and rubbed at the bridge of his nose in frustration.
Dammit, he should be there with her. Holding her.
Behind him, Jonas was quiet as well, and Rule swore he could feel the emanations of the director’s regret.
“We’ve had that fucking bug in her room for a week now, Jonas,” he growled, still furious that it had been placed there without his knowledge. “If she were meeting with anyone there, we would know it.”
The director was becoming more calculating, he thought. The device had been in place for two days before he’d gotten around to telling Rule about it. Not that Jonas told him everything, but this he would have expected to know about.
“I still remember that night,” Jonas sighed behind him. “She didn’t cry. I don’t think she’s ever cried, because each time she’s in my presence I swear I can feel those tears ripping her apart.”