Free The Rules for Breaking by Ashley Elston Page B

contact anyone.”
    I take a deep breath before I finish the last part. “If you break his rules, he will break his word and kill us.”
    And then he ends the video, flips the screen, and reviews what he filmed. I can’t see it, but I can hear my shaky voice and can only imagine how awful it will be when Dad and the Landrys watch this.
    “Get her the paper and bring me the box,” he says to the masked man, then turns to me. “Write: Push play on that paper.”
    I do as I’m told and he takes the paper and the camera and puts it in a large white box.
    Handing it to the masked man, he says, “Leave this closer to the camp. Be fast, we need to get moving.”
    Masked man runs back the way we came, the box in his hands so white it’s glowing in the darkness. There’s no way our parents won’t find it when they start looking for us.
    I’m so mesmerized by the box, I don’t realize Thomas has zip-tied my hands behind my back until it’s too late.
    The masked man returns and sits in the driver’s seat, then Thomas throws me inside the vehicle—I’m sandwiched between him and the masked man on the small bench seat. Masked man’s breathing is heavy, probably from carrying Ethan and running through the woods, and a scary image of Darth Vader pops in my head. Soon I can’t think of anything else when I see him. There’s no space separating any of us, and it makes my skin crawl. Vader cranks the vehicle but doesn’t turn on the headlights.
    “Sissy?”
    I freeze. Spinning around, I see Teeny step out from behind a tree. Oh. My. God. She must have followed Vader back after he delivered the box.
    “RUN, TEENY!” I scream.
    Thomas mutters something under his breath then bolts out of the vehicle, pulling his gun out of his waistband.
    Teeny panics. Doesn’t move a muscle. Before I can make it off the bench seat, Vader throws an arm around my chest and pins me to his side.
    “Da—” His other hand slaps over my mouth before I get the rest of the word Dad out.
    Thomas raises his arm and fires. Teeny drops to the ground. I let out a muffled scream. Thomas walks back to the vehicle and aims the gun at me.
    Everything goes dark.

Rules for disappearing
by Witness Protection prisoner #18A7R04M:
    Know what you’re getting into before you get into it.
    New rule by Anna Boyd:
    You can’t always know what you’re getting into, but you can sure as hell find out as much as you can once you’re there.

    I hear my name but I can’t lift my head. There’s no feeling in my arms—the only thing I’m sure of is they’re stuck behind my back.
    The ground bounces. My face slams down hard and my cheek explodes in agony.
    “Anna, open your eyes,” a voice whispers.
    I can’t. They’re so heavy. My tongue sticks to the roof of my mouth and it’s hard to swallow.
    “Anna.”
    My face hurts. I try to open my mouth and pain slices through my cheek. Something taps my knee. It won’t stop.
    Tap. Tap. Tap.
    I shake it off but it just comes right back.
    Tap. Tap. Tap.
    I peel one eye open. It’s dark.
    Slam. My head hits the ground again. I moan but I’m not sure if the sound actually leaves my lips.
    The tapping turns into a kick.
    “Anna.” The whispering gets louder. Ethan. A wave crashes over me—scenes of Ethan and Teeny dropping to the ground surge through my brain. Oh God. And Thomas.
    He’s back.
    I try to roll over but my arms are dead behind me. Twitching my head, the damp hair covering my face falls to the side, and I try to focus on where I am. I’m inside the back of a truck or van. My clothes are wet and I’m cold. Really cold.
    Slam. Again my head nails the floor. Tears burn my eyes and I’m afraid my cheekbone may be broken.
    “Anna.”
    I tilt my head up and find Ethan’s face a few feet from mine. He’s stuck in the same position—he’s on his stomach, hands bound behind his back.
    “Are you okay?”
    I pry my tongue loose and croak out, “No. I hurt.”
    I run through a mental inventory of my