Entanglement (YA Dystopian Romance) (29 page)

In the soundproofed
interior, Amber could just make out Tina’s voice on the other end. “Can I talk
to Amber?”

“I told you to stop
calling,” said Clive.

“Is she okay?”

“Tina, I didn’t kidnap
her,” he spat. “She’s my
half.
”

“Is she there?” said
Tina.

“She doesn’t want to
talk to you,” said Clive.

Then Tina yelled
something. “
Amber
, Aaron said—”

But Clive slammed his
phone shut before she finished. “Bitch,” he muttered, and then he turned his
phone off. “Harper won’t be saying anything once Father deals with him.”

It took Amber a moment
to process what she’d heard, and a moment more to realize Tina had been trying
to send her a message—a message about Aaron.

Was he in danger? Had
Casler gotten to him?

The driver opened the
door again, and the screaming jets scrambled her thoughts. She stumbled out
into the haze of heat. Her hair lifted and blew across her face, catching the
sun like strands of glass, blinding her.

She had to make sure he
was okay. No, she had no right, he was with his half now—

Clive grabbed her waist
and hurried her toward the jet’s airstairs, and her shirt scraped across the
still wet cuts on her back. The sting made her flinch.

Clearly Aaron’s half
wasn’t keeping him safe. She was probably dumb and spineless. And ugly.
Besides, what did it matter anyway if Aaron and Amber weren’t halves? She was
in love with him.

Amber halted in the
plane’s doorway. “I want to go back,” she said.

Clive grabbed her
wrist. “Not now, Amber.”

She yanked herself
free. “Did you hear me?”

“We
can’t
,” said
Clive.

“Why not? Aren’t you
the heir?” she said, and she knew she was going to have to pay for this later.

“You think I do
whatever I want?” said Clive, his eyes narrowing.

She stepped up the last
step, and their eyes were almost level. “Unless you’re scared,” she said, and
though her thoughts were a dizzying blur, she didn’t blink. The operation.
Casler could use her clairvoyance instead of Aaron’s. Clive would never let
her, but if she went straight to Casler—

“The potentate is
expecting
us,” said Clive.

“Oh, so this is the
potentate’s
honeymoon?”

“It’s
ours
.”

“Then prove it,” she
said, and with a final, smoldering look she kissed him in a way she never
wanted Aaron to know about. 

***

It
was out of Aaron’s hands now.

Later,
Tina called him back and said she might have gotten through; maybe Amber heard.
Maybe
.

Maybe
he was asking for too much.

Aaron
stormed out of his house and down the street. He hurried through morning
shadows, crisp with icy air. He headed nowhere, just away.

She
was the most meaningful part of his life, yet for a whole month he had denied
it, pushed her away, hurt her—when all along she was supposed to be his half.

But
just to be sure, Aaron went over the details one more time. Eighteen years ago,
Clive was about to die from half death, but Dr. Selavio split him from his
half. He did the same thing to Amber, and the two of them snapped together—stopping
Clive’s leak. Dr. Selavio must have used his machine on Amber’s mother while
she was giving birth to Amber.

And
Clive . . . he could have been older. Once his son was connected to Amber, Casler
only had to fake his birth certificate. He could have been twenty.

With
each passing hour, Aaron felt more feverish. His heart thundered, rattling his
skull with every beat. In the evening, he knelt in his driveway and watched the
sun bleed through the trees. The violet sky gaped above him, ready to swallow
him whole.

And
he waited.

Around
three in the morning, he got a response. His cell phone beeped, and he barely
heard it through the clammy fog of his own thoughts. A text message from a
number he didn’t recognize.

Tina
told me. Next time, you can just send me a rose.

Aaron
felt his heart lighten. He thumbed his reply with shaky fingers.
So you’re
back? How’d you do it?

Don’t
ask. Where are you?

Twenty
minutes later, Aaron glided his Mazda through the parking lot at Arroyo beach
and untwisted his ignition wires. His house wasn’t safe.

Around
him, glistening black cliffs towered out of view. And what if the texts weren’t
hers? What if it was a trap? Clive, with someone else’s phone, maybe?

The
night seeped in, ice-cold and surreal.

A
few minutes later, headlights swerved into the parking lot—and Amber’s powder
blue Bug pulled up next to him.

A
figure stepped out, and then it became real.

***

The
first thing he saw was a shock of silver hair, shimmering under the quarter
moon. He jumped out of his car, and Amber fell into his arms. Soundlessly, they
held each other. When his hand brushed her back, she winced and took quick, shallow
breaths.

Almost
as soon as they touched, though, she jumped away. Her eyes darted to the
Mazda’s empty passenger seat. “I forgot—”

He
yanked her back. “There’s no one there.”

Her
green eyes locked on his. “You came alone?”

“So
did you.”

“What
about your half?”

“You’re
my half,” he said. “You were right all along. They switched us. Clive’s not
even eighteen.”

Amber
searched his gaze. “Then why was it him at the Chamber?” she said.

“Clive’s
half died
before you were born,” said Aaron. “They used you to save his
life. Casler split us apart and sealed your channel to Clive’s so it would stop
leaking. He made you guys into artificial halves—
I’m
your real half,
Amber.”

Amber’s
eyes widened and her mouth fell open. Then she flung herself into his arms and
kissed him, convinced, and Aaron’s lungs inflated with helium. He felt her
shivering, though, so they climbed into his car. Moonlight dusted their faces.

“Run
away with me,” said Aaron, and he reached for the ignition.

“No,”
she said, brushing her hair behind her ear, “because then we’d just be
pretending. I want to be yours completely.”

“Amber,
we have to leave—”

“And
if they see me?”

“We’ll
blend in,” he said, searching for the wires.

“You
want
me
to blend in?” she said. “Now that I’m officially Clive’s half, a
lot more people are going to know I’m missing. They’ll come after us.”

“So
we lay low—”

“You
are
aware that I’m the heiress of the Juvengamy Brotherhood?” she said.

“So?”
Aaron peered sideways at her, and for the first time that night, he noticed the
light behind her eyes was dimmer, clouded over. Scarred. “Amber . . . what happened?”

Slowly,
she swiveled away from him and pulled up her shirt—and Aaron finally lowered
his hand from the ignition.

Because
all across her back, adhering to the side of her waist and crisscrossing her
spine, were strips of blood-spotted bandages. Where he’d rubbed her back, fresh
blood stains soaked into the gauze, spreading as he watched. By connecting the
dots, he could make out the design underneath—the mirror image of Clive’s
tattoo, marking her as his stolen property.

She
dropped her shirt and faced him, and the surf sparkled behind her. Aaron could
taste the ocean’s salt. And he had nothing to say.

“I
wish they’d just empty me out already,” she whispered.

“Don’t
ever say that,” he said. “Those marks will heal after we switch back, after we
become halves
again.”

She
nodded, and some of her hair came loose and fell across her eyes. “What about
the part of me they gave to Clive?”

“What
part?”

“The
part of me you should have gotten when we were born,” she said. “The part that
would have made us halves. I won’t get it back, will I?”

Aaron
stared at her, and he could feel the hollow seconds between his heartbeats. She
meant the vials worth of clairvoyance Casler’s machine had cut out of her. It
was inside Clive now, not Aaron, and it would forever be missing if they tried
to switch back.

“How
much do you think I’ll lose?” she said.

“We
need to find someone who can help us,” said Aaron, reaching for the ignition
wires again.

“Who?”
she said. “Casler’s the only doctor who would know what to do, and he’s the one
who did this to us.”

“We’ll
find someone.” Aaron fumbled with the wires, but they bounced off his fingers.

“Wait—”
She held his hand. “Can’t we just stay here for a minute, together?”

He
squeezed her hand and faced her. Amber lifted herself off her seat, slid over
the gear stick, and climbed into his lap. Carefully, he ran his hands behind
her neck, where her skin was cool, slippery. Her hair slid between his fingers.
She kissed him.

And
the universe paused to watch as they broke the law of halves. He could taste
how utterly forbidden she was, how kissing her was tearing her inside out. She
belonged to Clive now.

He
felt it too, a prick at the back of his head as a little more clairvoyance
drained out.

They
did it anyway.

She
pulled her head away and gasped. “Aaron, you have to run away before Casler
gets to you.”

“I’m
not running unless you’re with me,” he said.

“Aaron—”
She pressed her cheek to his, and her tears filmed between them. “No matter
what happens,
d
on’t
let him talk you into
anything—”

But
a squeal of tires cut her off.

They
both jerked their heads around as a pair of headlights veered into the parking
lot.

The
vehicle pulled up behind them, engine growling. Its high beams glared in like
searchlights, and the glass flared with white haze, opaque as frost. They had fogged
up every last window. And it left them blind.

“It’s
Clive!” Amber scrambled back into the passenger seat, her whole body trembling.
“He must have followed me here.
Drive!
”

***

The
sharp ends of the ignition wires stabbed Aaron’s fingers, drew blood. Silence.

He
tried the next pair. 

A
black figure loomed outside Amber’s window, shadowing her from the glare. The
wires shorted, and Aaron’s Mazda roared to life. The smell of his own burnt
skin reeked in his nostrils.

“Hurry!”
Amber mouthed.

Aaron
floored it and popped the clutch. His car lurched, recoiled, and heaved them
forward. The engine stalled.

He
had started too fast.

“Lock
your door,” he yelled, staring into Amber’s fear-soaked eyes. She just stared
back, frozen.

“
Lock
it!
”

She
finally obeyed—just as the latch clicked. Outside, Clive grunted and vaulted
over the hood, gorilla-like. He stomped across the metal to the driver’s side
door—which didn’t latch.

Clive
jerked the handle and it flew open, taking him by surprise. He staggered
backwards, still gripping the handle as the steel bent under his weight. The
hinges groaned.

A
frozen gust whipped Aaron’s eyes, and he yanked back on the door. But Clive had
already looped his arm inside the car, preventing it from closing. His tendons
swelled like tree trunks.

The
door’s hinges reeled on threads.

Clive’s
face plastered against the window, and for a split second, their eyes burned
into each other. Then Aaron dropped his shoulder and sank his full weight into
the door, broke it free completely, and tackled Clive to the asphalt. He hardly
felt the crunch in his spine.

Aaron
rose, and a black fog closed around him. The back of his brain burned under his
skull, and every stroke of his heart fueled the roar. He bent his fingers
around the car door, raised it, and cocked it behind his head. Might as well
have been cardboard.

He
swung the door like a baseball bat, as hard as he could. Clive jumped to his
feet, but not fast enough. The sharp edge gauged into his chest. The result was
a fleshy sound, like cutting steak with a blunt knife. The impact flipped
Clive’s body, and he landed with a slap.

Clive
tried to crawl away, but Aaron followed and swung the door again, made it
whistle—buried the steel into Clive’s shoulder and knocked him clear off the
asphalt.

Fury
pounded through him. It scorched his veins. He couldn’t stand the idea of Clive
possessing any part of Amber. He swung again—
thwack—
and again—
thwack—
he
swung until saliva foamed on his lips.
Thwack.
Until Clive’s blood ran
in purple rivulets