Broken Rules Read online

  Not that he could say anything about it since only his closest family members knew he was bisexual. He wasn't stupid enough to bring a boyfriend back to the Tri-Towns for the weekend.

  "What did he say to you?"

  Neil shrugged, not knowing what to say to Henry. Sighing, he shook his head. "It doesn't matter, Henry. Over and done with. Michel was drunk."

  Henry peered closely at him. Neil kept his face stony, he wasn't going to gossip, and he wasn't sure what Henry knew anyway. Was Rita-Anne aware of Jonah's preferences? Of course she was. Stupid question.

  "Where's Jonah?"

  "He's grieving." Well, look at that. Mr. Henry Bradford could do stony too.

  "I just want to make sure he's okay." And he wasn't going to discuss it with Henry.

  Henry wrinkled his nose. "Fine. He's in our bedroom. I sat him down in front of the TV. It's been a bit of a rough week for him."

  Neil nodded, brushing past Henry with a grateful nod. He ignored the few people that tried to stop him to chat in the kitchen, passing them to wander down the empty hallway. Debbie and Tom were still here, and so were two of his other brothers. They all watched him without saying a word, obviously knowing better. He wondered how many people had overheard his little discussion with Michel. The man hadn't been quiet. Fuck.

  Stopping in front of the master bedroom, Neil knocked softly, opening the door before Jonah could refuse him entrance.

  He needn't have bothered. Jonah was slumped in a chair, the TV turned on with the volume set to a whispering level. The sound was obviously low enough that Jonah had fallen asleep to it. Although, Neil remembered a few hockey trips where he'd discovered Jonah could sleep through anything, so the sound could have been turned up full blast and not made a difference.

  Jonah's head was tilted back and even from the doorway Neil could tell he had been crying.

  His chest heavy, Neil paced toward Jonah. He reached down and slipped the remote out of Jonah's relaxed hand before he dropped it. Neil brushed back his hair with a shaking hand. Without stopping to consider his actions, he bent down, and pressed a tender kiss to Jonah's lips, tasting him. Rising up, he kissed Jonah's forehead, letting his lips linger before fnally moving to leave. He jolted, seeing Rita-Anne standing in the doorway. She backed up, waiting for him to walk out. Setting the remote on top of the TV, he glanced back at Jonah one last time before closing the door gently and leaning back against the doorframe.

  "Is he okay?" she asked, getting right to the point.

  Neil glanced behind her but they were alone for the moment. "He'll be fne. It's been a long day for him."

  "Neil, how long have I known you?"

  "Now, Reet, you know better than to age either one of us."

  "Don't hurt him."

  He frowned. "What makes you think I'd hurt him?"

  "Just…don't. Please."

  Neil sighed. "I wouldn't ever hurt him if I could help it." He was so turned around inside he didn't know what was going on. He desperately needed to sit somewhere and go over everything in his mind. Had there been signs before that he'd missed? Was he really that blind? He didn't know what to do.

  chAPteR ten

  Jonah sat staring at the church, unable to move. He couldn't believe how nice it was outside. The sun was shining and it was defnitely too warm with his suit coat. The way he was feeling it should be cold and damp instead. It somehow seemed like the weather was mocking the somber proceedings of the day.

  Hell, when had they changed this to a French church? Growing up it'd been Holy Cross and now all of a sudden it was Paroisse Ste Croix. Not that he minded, but shit, it was like nothing was the same. Everything had changed. He just wanted things to go back to the way they were. Was that too much to ask for? He wanted his mom. He was so fucking angry with her but he'd give almost anything to have her sitting beside him right now.

  He was vaguely aware of people moving past him to walk into the church, but thankfully no one stopped to chat. He didn't think he'd be able to take it. Not today.

  A heavy hand was pressing down on his chest, making his breath shaky, shallow. He couldn't breathe. Oh crisse, he couldn't breathe.

  "Jonah?" A light touch to the top of his head. He knew that voice.

  "Hey, buddy, you okay? I was worried I was going to be late. You know how David is. The bugger can't be on time for anything."

  Jonah let his friend's voice roll over him. It was so familiar, he latched onto it. He couldn't look at Neil, though, couldn't tear his gaze away from the front of the church. This was the moment he'd been dreading all week and he couldn't put it off any longer.

  "Jonah?"

  Neil crouched in front of him. He wasn't sure why Neil just didn't sit on the bench beside him but that was about as far as his thoughts went. The pain in his chest grew, nearly unbearable. Hell, he was so busy trying to fgure out how to breathe, he wasn't even worried about the fact that the last time he'd seen Neil he'd stupidly kissed him. Although, just seeing Neil here probably meant Jonah hadn't fucked things up too badly.

  "Hey now, you're okay." Neil brushed back the hair on Jonah's forehead, his face wreathed in concern.

  "I can't go in," Jonah murmured.

  "What?" Neil cocked his head.

  "I can't…it's not real. As long as I don't go in and see her, none of this is real."

  "Oh, Jonah."

  He couldn't stand that, didn't want to sit here and listen to the sorrow in Neil's voice. It wasn't real. None of this was real. "I-I…" Oh, no. He couldn't do this if his voice was going to crack. Desperately trying to stop the food of tears that were sitting right there, waiting to overcome him, Jonah sniffed. "It's not real as long as I don't see her urn. I can't…I don't…oh God. I can't do this." He ran a hand over his face, brushing away the damning tears. "I haven't seen her in ten years, but it still feels like she's there. You know? Back at home, baking a pie. A phone call away. I wanted so many times to pick up the phone and call her. I needed to talk to her so many times, but I just couldn't. She can't be dead. There's…I…there's so much I haven't said. So much I need to tell her. I…I c-can't do this…she's not dead as long as I don't see her."

  Jonah rocked forward, suddenly engulfed in Neil's big embrace. His friend remained silent, one of his callused hands brushed Jonah's cheek before sliding back, running through his hair and smoothing along his back. Jonah closed his eyes, sinking into the comfort Neil offered. It was just the two of them, his best friend, the only man who really got him.

  His body shook, silent sobs unable to be voiced.

  He didn't know how long they sat there, holding on to each other. Eventually he calmed, but Neil never let him go. Maybe it was the death grip Jonah had on his suit jacket, but it was nice to be able to hold on to someone else. No, that wasn't true… it was Neil that he wanted to hold onto. He wouldn't be doing this with anyone else.

  "Jonah? Oh, mon petit chou-feur, are you okay?" Rita-Anne touched his back. He could sense her crouched down beside them. When'd she get back? She'd left him outside earlier when he hadn't been able to go inside the church with her.

  Lifting his head, he nodded. Breathing deeply, Jonah brushed his hand across his eyes. Man, he just wanted this day to be over already.

  "You ready to come inside now, chou feur?"

  Jonah nodded. He didn't have much of a choice. They weren't going to hold the funeral back just because of him. Standing up, he pressed a hand to Neil's arm, thanking him. A quick glanced showed Neil all spiffed up in his Sunday best. Damn, Neil flled out a suit nicely. Too bad it wasn't quite enough to distract Jonah. He really didn't want to walk inside the church.

  "I'll meet you in there, okay?" Neil waited until Jonah nodded his head before taking off.

  Rita-Anne stepped in front of Jonah, clutching her hands. "Are you sure you're—?"

  "Reet, I'm fne. I'll be fne. Just... let's just get this over with."

  Entering the church, he resolutely kept his gaze forward. He didn't want to look at anyone. Di
dn't want to talk to anyone. He especially didn't want to see his mom's urn sitting at the front of the Sanctuary. Although, thank God for the fact that she wasn't laid out in a coffn. He really didn't want to see her like that. He didn't think he could bear it.

  Following Rita-Anne inside, he spotted Henry at the end of the second row, Neil sitting a bit away from him. Jonah slid past Henry, seating himself beside Neil with Rita-Anne following to sit between him and Henry.

  For the life of him he couldn't catch anything the priest said for the frst ten minutes. It was like there was a haze coating his mind, cutting him off from everything around him. His father was sitting in front of him, all by himself. A part of him felt bad about that but not enough to actually risk himself and move up there. He just didn't want to deal with him. Not today of all days.

  Father Peter droned on and on, talking about how wonderful Jane's life was. Jonah wondered what the priest thought about the fact that saintly Jane didn't want anything to do with her only son. Hell, he'd probably congratulate her. Either that or he'd try and forgive Jonah for his sins.

  Maybe he should just shut his internal voice up. He had no idea what Father Peter would say and it would just make Jonah look bad if he was wrong. Not everyone was against him and he really knew better that not everyone was against gays.

  Nope, just his parents.

  Jonah's breath hitched, and he could feel himself start to spiral again to that dark place he'd been before. He curled his fngers around the rosary hidden in his pants pocket, squeezing the cross and feeling the metal dig into his skin. He couldn't lose control here. If he did he'd be just like his father. The bâtard was sitting in the front pew sobbing so loudly Jonah could barely hear the priest praying in the background.

  Closing his eyes, he inhaled deeply, a prickle of tears forming behind his lids. He couldn't do this. He just couldn't do this.

  "My father plays dominoes better than your father," Neil chanted under his breath, his words lilting into a Gregorian hymn.

  Blinking, Jonah lifted his head, trying to fgure out if he'd actually heard that right. He couldn't stop his lips from curving, surprising himself. He held in his laughter, releasing the rosary and moving his hand to brush his pinky against Neil's thigh in gratitude. Just like that, the heavy feeling in his chest lifted.

  He was so grateful Neil was sitting here beside him. There wasn't anyone else in the world who understood him enough to know exactly what to do.  

  Neil shifted in his seat, wishing Uncle Peter would wrap things up. Although, considering his Uncle was a priest—and looking right at him, shit—it wasn't a good idea to look bored or restless. He'd never hear the end of it next time the family got together.

  He just didn't want to listen to Jonah's dad carrying on anymore. Sure, the guy was upset that his wife died but Neil knew the difference between real tears and alligator tears and Michel was faking it. He probably thought people would feel sorry for him if he made a big racket and showed how upset he was.

  He much preferred Jonah's quiet grief. Although, looking at Jonah keeping his composure was just about killing Neil. He had a death grip on whatever he held in his pocket. The way Jonah's arm was moving slightly let Neil know he was holding something but he couldn't tell what it was. Something of his mother's? Whatever it was, Neil was curious.

  Neil couldn't even remember the last time he'd been to a funeral like this. They'd gone the whole nine yards. He was pretty sure Jonah wasn't a practicing Catholic, not if he was gay. Not that Neil was going to judge him on that since he didn't go to church either.

  Would be a little hypocritical of him anyway. When Neil fnally came out to his family he stopped going to church on a regular basis, except for the holidays when his mom forced all the boys to attend mass. He didn't believe in the bullshit spouted by the leadership, so it didn't make any sense to pretend.

  Seriously, he was going to lose it if Michel didn't stop blubbering. Neil was fucking pissed at him for ignoring Jonah the way he was. Did he just not care what anyone else was thinking? Was anyone else even aware of the fact that Jonah was sitting with his cousin instead of his father? Neil had no idea how many of the people packed into the church were even cognizant of the fact that Jonah had virtually disappeared for a decade. Wait, what was he thinking? You couldn't scratch your ass in this town without at least fve people reporting it to your mother within a half hour.

  He'd never thought about it before, but he was starting to get the idea that Jonah didn't talk to his parents much when he was gone. Was it because he was gay? Neil knew how Michel felt about it, but what about Jane? She was such a wonderful person when they were growing up. Neil had loved coming to her house and she'd been pretty good friends with his mom back then. Why hadn't he seen the change? When was the last time his mom had even had lunch with Jane Chevalier? Jesus, how blind had Neil been?

  If he was right, and Jonah had been virtually kicked out of his house, then how was he supposed to feel right now? How could he reconcile the image of Jane the nurturer with someone who would turn her back on her son? Fuck.

  Neil prodded Jonah to stand up for communion, making sure he followed Rita-Anne back to their pew after receiving the Eucharist. Seeing Mrs. Chevalier's urn sitting at the front of the church was making him wish for his own mom. Man, he was going to hold her for forever the minute she stepped off the plane in Toronto. His mom had stood by him when he told her about his sexuality. She'd never made him feel like he wasn't good enough or that she was disappointed. And it had nothing to do with him being bisexual and potentially falling in love with a woman. He knew to the bottom of his soul that his parents would be just as happy if he brought home a man as they would be if he brought home a woman.

  Neil watched the long line of people snake to the front of the church to receive communion. He caught sight of Smiley walking past them with his wife and he gave his friend a small wave. Shit, there was Jackson too. He was living down in Michigan right now, so Neil hadn't expected him to come to the funeral. Half the old hockey team was here, too. The guys that still lived here, anyway. All dressed in somber suits. Neil nodded to his brothers as they fled past one by one. Debbie was crying, that much was obvious.

  It was nice to see Jonah's friends come out to support him. They weren't here for Jane, they were here for her son. He wondered if Jonah was even aware of the people around him. Probably not. The way Jonah stared down at the foor and clutched whatever was in his pocket made him think that Jonah was lost to his thoughts.

  The funeral fnally over, Neil stood up with everyone else, grabbing Jonah's arm to pull him up and move into the aisle. Mr. Chevalier lurched forward, throwing himself at the table holding his wife's urn and sobbing loudly.

  "Jesus Christ," Neil said. He watched in horror as the urn tilted to the side. Pushing forward, he grabbed one side of the table as Henry grabbed the other. Either not aware or not caring that he almost spread his wife's ashes all over the foor, Michel continued to scream and moan.

  Making eye contact with Henry, Neil shook his head. Damn Michel. Why was he pulling this crap? No one needed to see him like this. Rita-Anne took on the dreaded task of trying to get Michel to calm down. Turning, Neil looked for Jonah, expected his friend to be standing right beside them. He was gone. Where the hell had Jonah gone?

  chAPteR eLeven

  Jonah stepped inside the welcoming embrace of Rita-Anne's home. The noise was nearly deafening and he knew for a fact only the closest of family and friends had been invited back here after the funeral. Hop-skipping over the shoes piled up at the back door, he fnally found a clear place to stop and slip his own loafers off. Man, if he couldn't hear the conversations from where he was standing he'd know a shitload of people were here just from the amount of footwear at the back door.

  Waving a hand to Henry who had appeared at the top of the steps into the kitchen, Jonah walked sock-footed toward him.

  "You okay, man?"

  Jonah nodded. Not much to say to that.
r />   "Where'd you go?"

  Noticing the look of concern on Henry's face, Jonah exhaled loudly. "Just drove around. Needed some time alone."

  Henry shrugged. "Want a beer?"

  "You have to ask?" His whole body felt old. Washed out. Limp. He wanted to get drunk. He'd probably regret it in the morning but he didn't want to think.