Free No Rules by Starr Ambrose Page A

that.”
    “Confidential files?” He jumped on it. “What files? Do you have a juvenile record or something?”
    “No.”
    “Because I don’t give a shit about some prank you pulled in high school, or if you had your license suspended.”
    “I didn’t. For your information, I have never been in trouble with the law. Some of us have no trouble obeying laws and following rules.” It sounded so snooty she had to remind herself that following the rules was a good thing.
    “Then what’s the big deal? What else is confidential?”
    Thankfully he thought like someone in law enforcement—if someone had something to hide, it had to be illegal. Unfortunately, Avery’s thinking was less linear. She stopped swinging her leg as the answer occurred to her. “Medical records.”
    “You have a medical problem?” He still didn’t get it. “I promise it won’t leave this room, if that’s what you’re worried about.”
    Jess glared and said nothing. A knowing smile snaked across Avery’s mouth as she elaborated for him. “Psychiatric records.”
    Shit.
    Avery finally seemed to be enjoying the conversation. “Your little friend has issues, Tyler. Something she doesn’t want to share with the group.”
    Jess felt a flush spread up her neck to her cheeks. She ground her teeth, refusing to acknowledge what Avery had guessed, even though one look at her face must have revealed the truth.
    Donovan studied her. She tried not to flinch, certain she felt his mind probing for facts inside her own. Learning the embarrassing truth. Holding it up for everyone to see and laugh at.
    Without looking directly at them, she knew Mitch and Kyle sat up straighter, suddenly interested in the drama.
    Avery obliged them by continuing her guessing game. “Wally’s daughter must have been in therapy.”
    It was nothing to be ashamed of, Jess lectured herself. But damn it, it was supposed to be private. How had her father known?
    Sensing success, Avery tilted her head, assessing Jess on some scale only she could read. “Maybe she was even hospitalized. Psych ward.”
    Wrong. Jess wanted to scream her denial, but the truth was more embarrassing, so she held the words back, trembling with the effort.
    “Shut up, Avery.” Donovan’s voice was soft but carried an ominous note. Jess silently thanked him for the unexpected help.
    Avery wasn’t listening. “Maybe she even attempted suicide.”
    Unable to let that one go by, Jess blurted, “I did not.”
    “No?”
    Too late, Jess saw her mistake. She shouldn’t have said anything. By denying that outrageous accusation, Avery’s innocent response challenged her to correct it. To tell the real reason for her years of therapy. Tell them, or leave the horrible allegation of attempted suicide hanging over her head.
    Anger, hot and jagged, ripped through her. They had no right to put her in this position, to question her about the most embarrassing and private parts of her life.
    “That’s enough,” Donovan ordered. Surprised and relieved, she gave him a grateful look.
    “I agree.” Evan’s low voice carried authority. Avery closed her mouth over what she’d been about to say, but it didn’t wipe away her satisfaction.
    The director’s eyes were kind. “Wally felt he’d been the cause of your—problems, didn’t he?”
    She gave him a tight nod, hoping he hadn’t guessed the extent of it. It was so simple, so Freudian, she hated it.
    She risked a glance at Donovan, a man so confident and secure in his identity he couldn’t possibly understand her problem, knowing she’d crumple into a tiny ball if she saw pity in his eyes. She didn’t. He stared with open curiosity as if he had a dozen follow-up questions. Questions that would expose every humiliating detail of her personal life and prove she had no right being attracted to a man like him. Questions he might put off for now, but would not forget to ask later.

If he had any respect for her at all, it was about to disappear