Entanglement (YA Dystopian Romance) - By Dan Rix Page 0,23
vague expressions of ecstasy, as every puzzling facet of Amber and Clive’s abusive relationship clicked into place.
They were juvengamy halves; their parents had put them together shortly after birth. There were still a few who clung to the old belief that nature intended it that way, even though juvengamy had been illegal for decades. It damaged halves, thus Amber and Clive’s love-hate relationship.
Aaron’s skin prickled with sweat, and he licked his lips, which had dried to scabs. If Amber was Clive’s half, it didn’t make sense to feel jealous any more. He would meet his own half in a week. So why, he asked himself as he stormed into the hallway, did he still have the squeamish feeling that Clive had stolen her from him?
Dominic Brees was on his way in, though, and they collided in the doorway.
***
“You?” said Aaron, but before he could act, Dominic grabbed his collar and slammed him against the wall outside the door.
“This is my house, fuckface, and nap time’s over. You owe me now for saving your life . . . Clive almost killed you.”
“No shit,” said Aaron, peeling Dominic’s fingers off his collar one by one. He could see why Buff hated this guy. “What the hell was that anyway?”
“It’s what he does to idiots who hit on Amber,” said Dominic, lowering his hand. “You’re lucky his father was here to examine your head. Dr. Selavio wants to check you again later.”
Dr. Selavio. Clive’s father. the same man, Aaron recalled, who was likely responsible for Emma Mist’s half death. “We’ll see about that,” he said, surveying the huge candlelit hallway. “By the way, where is our wonder boy?”
“If I were you, I would stop provoking him.”
“Once he fixes my car,” said Aaron. “This is his room, right? I think I’ll wait for him here.”
“No, you won’t. His father’s going to deal with him,” said Dominic. “Your job right now, number eleven, is to go downstairs and end whatever fling you got with Amber.”
Aaron’s heart stammered. “She’s here?”
“And she shouldn’t be,” said Dominic. “If Clive comes back and finds both of you, you’re dead.”
“So they’re halves, then?”
“What’s it to you anyway?” said Dominic. “She’s not available. End of story.”
“I’m just curious, I’m not interested in dating her.”
“Oh yeah? And what was all that on the dance floor?” said Dominic.
Aaron turned away, wishing Dominic hadn’t reminded him. “It was her idea,” he said.
“I’m sure you begged her to stop.”
He ignored the comment. “So are they really juvengamy halves?”
Dominic laughed. “What moron told you that?”
“On Clive’s dresser,” said Aaron, feeling a twinge of hope as he nodded to the sculpture through the doorway.
“Yeah, he’s kind of twisted like that,” said Dominic, “but no, the Chamber hasn’t confirmed them yet. I don’t know their full story, but I do know they’re going in on their birthday just like everyone else. Now, go downstairs and deal with her . . . tell her you have rabies or something.”
***
Aaron forgot Dominic’s request, though, when he found her biting her nails in an empty downstairs bedroom, her face hidden by her golden hair. Though she wasn’t a juvengamy baby—and Aaron was still shaky at the good news—he still had his doubts.
When Amber saw him, she jumped up from the bed and tried without success to hide her relief. “What did Clive do to you?” she said.
“I’m fine.” Aaron stopped right in front of her, and he felt the same rush he’d felt while they were dancing. Like the nervous, lightheaded excitement that comes on a roller coaster before the big drop.
Aaron had to resist the temptation to move even closer. “Tell me the truth,” he said, “are you his half?”
“I’m seventeen,” she said.
It wasn’t even an answer. “Why is he making a collage of your face on his wall?”
“He’s a family friend,” she said.
“Who happens to be obsessed with you?”
Amber smoothed her fingers slowly through her hair then let it swish back, fanning Aaron with the smell of her vanilla shampoo. “Isn’t that what boys do?” she said.
“The sick ones.”
“Maybe I take cute pictures,” she said.
“Yeah, except most of them weren’t that cute.”
She stared at him. “Aaron, what am I to you?”
“I have no idea,” said Aaron. “We’re not friends, we’re not dating, and you don’t think we’re halves. Why don’t you make something up?”
“You’re infuriating,” she said.
Aaron raised his eyebrows. “Oh, but Clive’s no big deal?”
“It was a compliment,” she said.
“I’d hate to get an insult.”
“You’re about to.”
Her hair fell in front of her face again, and in a