Page 3

Crashing into Trouble

“W hat are you two deadbeats doing up there?” Zayne calls up to us.

The tension seeps out of me. “I wish you wouldn’t creep up on me like that,” I say.

For such a big guy—he’s around six two and broad at the shoulder—Zayne moves really quietly. He’s dressed in his usual uniform of faded jeans, black T-shirt, and black leather jacket. His overlong mahogany brown hair falls over his silver eyes, and he swipes it out of the way. Beside me, my cat friend hisses and leaps to the ground, disappearing into the undergrowth. He tolerates Josh but hates Zayne.

“I heard that creepy Pete is back,” Zayne says.

“Yeah.” Zayne might have moved out, but he still checks up on us.

“He hit Lissa,” Josh chimes in. “And she fell down, and he threw a bottle at me, then Amber rescued me and gave me chocolate and…”

Zayne hauls himself up on the roof and sinks down beside me. “Hey, buddy, I hope you’re not trying to steal my girl.”

Josh giggles. “She’s not your girl, she’s your sister.”

I don’t argue. Zayne is a complete ass to most people, but for some reason, he took a liking to me. We’re the same age but he always treats me like I’m this fragile little thing in need of protection. Which I’m not. Though maybe I was back then when we first met. I was lost and scared and pretty pathetic.

And while I would never have chosen Pete and Lissa as surrogate parents, I’m glad I came here because it gave me Zayne. I love him—like a brother. Somehow, my story followed me here. And kids can be horrible to anyone they deem different. High school would have been a nightmare if it hadn’t been for Zayne. He made it clear to everyone that if they picked on me, they’d have to deal with him. And he’s scary as shit with a wicked temper. Even I can see that, though he’s never shown me that side of him.

I never had anyone—well, not anyone I can remember—look out for me before.

He peers at me in the dim light. “What’s wrong with your face?”

“It got in the way of some flying glass.”

He takes the tissue from me and examines the wound. “You’ll live.” That’s what I like about Zayne; he looks out for me, but he doesn’t mollycoddle me. “So what have you been up to, Princess?”

That’s where Josh got the idea. Zayne calls me Princess when he’s pissed at me. And he’s been pissed off since I got my exam results and accepted a place at a college in London. A long way from here.

I dig another chocolate bar out of my bag and hand it to him. I know the men in my life. “Eight-hour shift,” I answer, wiggling my toes. “My feet hurt.”

“You work too hard.”

“And you don’t work enough.” I don’t know what Zayne gets up to, but I’m betting that it’s no good. He always seems to have money, but I have no idea where it comes from. I worry he’s mixing with some dodgy characters.

“You should come to London with me,” I say, not for the first time.

“And leave my best buddy?” he replies, leaning across me and punching Josh on the arm.

He’s right. While I’d like him close to me—I’m a little scared of the idea of heading to the big city all on my own—I’m glad he’ll be here to keep an eye on Josh. It lessens my guilt a little. Not that I have anything to feel guilty about. Josh isn’t my responsibility. If I tell myself that often enough, I might even start to believe it.

“So you haven’t changed your mind?” Zayne asks. “You could go to college somewhere local just as easily. You don’t have to go to London. It’s a shithole anyway.”

“No, it’s not. And you know why I need to go.”

He heaves an exaggerated sigh. “Can’t you just let it go? If you had any family in London, don’t you think they would have come forward by now? It’s been over three years.”

I purse my lips and look away, blinking back a tear. Part of me knows he’s only saying what everyone believes. If there was anyone out there who cared an iota for me, they would have found me. There was enough publicity at the time—I made the national news: Girl found in park with no clothes and no memory . But if anyone recognized me, they didn’t come forward. They obviously didn’t want me.

“I’m sorry,” Zayne says in a quiet voice.

“I know. But I need to do this. I feel like I’m stuck and can’t move forward. I need to know who I am. Maybe I can go back to where I was found and ask some questions and—”

“Knowing the past won’t change who you are.” He twists slightly so he can look into my face, and I can see the sincerity in his eyes. Then he snorts. “Anyway, you don’t know how lucky you are. You get a reboot—you can be anyone you want to be. I’d give my left nut to forget where I came from.”

Zayne’s another one who doesn’t talk about his family or what happened before he was put in foster care, but I know it was bad.

“Me too,” Josh says. “I hate Pete, but it’s still better here than it was at home.”

Poor kid. I reach across and ruffle his hair—it needs washing.

Then I sigh. Maybe they’re right and I should let it go, but I can’t. My hand steals up to the pendant I wear on a thin silver chain around my neck. It is the only possession I had on me when I was found—a piece of dark golden amber that was clutched in my hand. That’s how I got my name, though at the time, it was only meant to be temporary. Social services figured they’d find out my real name when they discovered who I was. Only that never happened.

Maybe the amber pendant holds the secret to who I am, and someone will recognize it. Someone must have placed it in my hand. I don’t know why, but all my senses tell me it’s important.

“I have to try,” I say.

Zayne shakes his head, and in the dim light, I see his face harden. He’s like Josh—his mood can change in a moment. I’d be scared if I didn’t know him so well.

“Why don’t you marry Zayne?” Josh asks. “Then you could adopt me, and we could be a real family?”

The words take me back. I’m searching for something to say—like I already have a family. Maybe. Somewhere.

Beside me, Zayne snorts. “The princess is too good to marry the likes of me,” he says.

I think he’s joking. At least I hope he’s joking. He knows I don’t think of him that way. “I don’t actually remember you asking.”

“And if I did?”

Shock flashes through me. I search his face, looking for some sign that he’s just messing with me, but his eyes are serious. Except he can’t be. We’re both nineteen. No money. No jobs. Even if we wanted to, it would be impossible. Why is he being so difficult? He knows how important this is to me.

“Don’t be silly,” I snap. “You don’t think of me like that.” He’s never even tried to kiss me. Never looked at me like he wants to. Though I know he’s beaten up a few guys who were getting too familiar.

“You don’t know how I feel, Princess.”

I always thought I did. But everything is changing. And suddenly I’m scared. It’s all too much for me. Pressure has been building in my head all night, like fingers trying to pry inside my brain. I need to get out of here. Go somewhere far away.

I don’t bother with the tree; I just use my hands to launch myself from the garage roof. I land lightly.

“What the hell, Amber!” Zayne yells.

I hear the shock in his voice. This is something else I’ve never done in front of anyone before.

“Hey, where are you going? Come back, Amber. It’s after midnight.”

I race through the open gate and down the road. I have no clue where I’m going. Or why. I just know that I need to move. I head down the road; the night is dark, but the street lamps light the way.

Suddenly, that prickle runs down my spine again, and the pain in my head explodes. One by one, the lights snuff out, leaving me in darkness, and my feet slow. I’ve never been afraid of the dark before. Now, my blood thunders in my veins, and my heart beats loud enough to hear. I stand, my chest heaving from my run, my pulse racing from whatever is happening.

A blackout?

The prickle comes again, and I turn slowly. I wince through the pain in my head as I peer into the night. Pinpricks of crimson glow in the shadows, and something darker than the night slithers closer.

As I whirl and launch myself forward, something rustles behind me, and the pain in my head intensifies. I speed up, running faster than I’ve ever run before, as though I can outrun the agony slicing through my mind.

What’s happening?

I have no idea, except it’s nothing good, and I race through the darkness until... wham!

I crash into something solid, something that wraps iron arms around me, and I scream.