Entanglement (YA Dystopian Romance) - By Dan Rix Page 0,59

sets of footsteps streak across the dark marble. He reached the door first and yanked it open, but Dominic slammed into him and they both tumbled out onto the granite steps.

Aaron kneed the rugby player in the face and leapt up, and then there was nothing but cold wind whipping through his hair. He tried to hurtle a dead rosebush, jammed his foot ankle deep in thorns, and toppled face first onto the brick driveway. Dominic went the long way, but the dark blur of his torso closed in fast.

Aaron veered toward the wilderness on the far side of the property. His thighs burned, and his chest threatened to cave in, but he could hear Dominic right behind him, panting, his hot breath on his heels.

They plunged into the pitch-black forest. Branches materialized two feet in front of Aaron’s face, like disfigured human limbs. Too late to duck. He lowered his shoulder and charged through them. Splinters showered behind him.

Then he shoved his foot against a root, swerved, and collapsed into the shadow of an oak tree. Dominic flew by, oblivious, and his muddy splashes faded into the distance.

Aaron waited until there was silence, until only the restless clicking and creaking of the forest could be heard through the trees, then he retraced his steps back to the driveway. Beneath luminous rainclouds, a breeze rippled in the meadow. He knelt at the gate and caught his breath, and inside his rib cage, his heart ricocheted like a bouncy ball.

But he shouldn’t have rested so soon.

Aaron heard a click behind him. He spun, but too late. The fleshy hollow of Dominic’s elbow clamped down on his throat. He felt the switchblade wedge into the side of his windpipe, and then he heard wheezing in his ear.

“How’d you get out of the well, number eleven?”

“I climbed out,” Aaron spat. “It was easy.”

“No way. Those walls are like a slip ’n slide.”

“Yeah?” said Aaron. “My grandmother could have done it.”

The knife’s pressure increased and Aaron struggled to breathe.

“Sounds like you need a doctor,” said Dominic.

“Fine,” said Aaron, “take me back to him . . . play his little lapdog.”

“Don’t insult me,” said Dominic. “I don’t answer to any Selavio, and I never will.”

“Then why’d you let him get away with it?” said Aaron. “He drilled a goddamn hole through Justin’s head. I saw the body.”

“I know what he did, fuckface . . . it’s the same thing he’s going to do to you.” Dominic uncoiled his arm and shoved Aaron away from him. “Lucky for you, it’s Clive’s birthday today, which gives you a one day head start to leave the country. Now get off my property before I change my mind.”

“It’s my birthday too,” said Aaron.

“No shit,” said Dominic, “and you’re going to wish it wasn’t.”

***

At four-thirty in the morning, Aaron scaled Dominic’s gate then stood terrified on the dark road. In all directions, the street’s gloomy houses were concealed behind knotted, cancerous growths of vegetation.

Instead of being sound asleep like the street’s inhabitants, he was fifteen miles from home, alone, with six and a half hours to make his appointment—and all he could think about was Dr. Selavio’s hideous plans for Amber.

First, he had to tell her.

Aaron dialed her number and pressed his cell phone to his ear, but he got her voicemail.

“You’ve reached Amber,” she said, giggling. “If you want me to call you back, try leaving a message.”

“Amber, pick up your phone. Please.” Aaron snapped the phone shut, and a little more of his hope evaporated. She was asleep like everyone else at this ungodly hour, oblivious to the danger she was in.

Or was she oblivious? How often had Amber told him nothing and pretended everything was fine? How often had she hidden her life from him so he wouldn’t try to protect her? How often had she disregarded the future—because she didn’t really have one?

The truth was, Amber had known from the beginning—and that was the hardest part to take.

She knew she was being molded into a prize for the Brotherhood’s heir, domesticated. That the undesirable parts of her would eventually have to be removed. She never told him because she never wanted him to know.

Because after the operation, the scar at the back of her head would heal, but the hole inside her would not. Her eyes would be empty, extinguished forever of their dazzling flare—like all the other juvengamy women.

Aaron’s stomach did queasy somersaults at the thought. He had to get her away from everyone. From