Lost Girls(22)

“I can pick you up on my bike. I’ve got an extra helmet you can wear.” He sounded a little nervous, like he just realized I might say no.

I flashed on the two of us riding a Harley through night streets, my arms wrapped around his waist, me leaning against him, his heat warming me, the world flying past, a blur of colors and shapes that didn’t matter. It was a memory—one of my first—and I gasped, low and soft, air flowing over my lips like I’d just woken up from a long nap, like an enchantment was lifting.

“I’ve ridden on your bike before, haven’t I?” I asked.

“Lots of times.” He gave me a shy grin. “Is that a yes?”

I nodded, suddenly eager for Friday. I didn’t care if we were going to be alone or in a crowd of a hundred. As long as we were together, that was all that mattered. As far as I was concerned, Friday couldn’t come soon enough.





Chapter Fourteen


I didn’t see Kyle again until after school. I kept expecting to find him lurking outside one of my classes, a worried expression in his eyes, his voice lowered as he asked why I’d been acting so strange on the way to school this morning. He didn’t know Agent Bennet had been following us or that I was now wearing a tracking device. I hoped it would stay that way.

The less my brother had to worry about, the better.

I found Kyle waiting for me by the side exit, backpack draped over one arm, attention focused on his iPhone as he intermittently texted, then chuckled, then texted again. He stuck out his foot like he was going to trip me if I tried to walk past him.

“Hey,” he said, never looking up from his cell, thumbs punching in yet another message. “What the holy effing crap was going on this morning?” He gave me a sidelong glance, eyes peering through hair that had fallen over his face. Then he slipped his phone into his jacket pocket and loped along by my side, his legs longer than mine, his steps carrying a lazy bounce. “Why’d you take that crazy route to school and then dump me off at the front door?”

We were threading our way through the horde of students leaving the building, half of them jogging down the steps, the other half ambling slowly, some talking, some turning around to gaze back at the open doors as if they’d forgotten something.

“Just felt like doing something different,” I told him, ruffling his hair as I kept walking, never breaking my stride.

Kyle shook his head. “You’re weird,” he said. Then he gave me a mischievous grin and held up his right palm, revealing a phone number written in blue ink.

“Amber’s digits. Total score, despite your attempts to ruin my social life earlier today,” he said. He scampered away from me then, running and jumping and whooping.

“I wasn’t trying to wreck your life,” I grumbled, knowing he was too far away to hear me. “I was trying to save it.”

We’d both made our way down the steps and onto the path that wended toward the parking lot. Other students milled around us, some heading to the football field for practice, wearing shoulder pads and carrying helmets. Brett was among them and he waved at me from the edge of the field—something I still couldn’t get used to, having friends who were either captain of the football team or head of the cheerleading squad. He cupped his hands around his mouth and called out to me, “Hey, I hear you’re coming to the thing on Friday.” He gave me a thumbs-up.

I waved back, confused. I was going to a ‘thing’ on Friday? I thought Dylan and I were going on a date—I’d been looking forward to us spending time alone together. I sighed, trying not to feel disappointed. We were probably going to some party and hopefully we wouldn’t stay too long.

Then I froze in place, staring down at that kandi bracelet, my fingers running over the brightly colored beads as I remembered all the stuff I’d found in that box yesterday morning—the ballet slippers, the list of names, the ticket stubs.

Maybe we were going to a rave. Maybe a Phase Two rave.

I was so caught up in my thoughts I barely heard Brett when he called out again.

“It’s gonna be a blast!” he shouted, then he turned and jogged onto the field with his teammates.

I couldn’t decide if I was excited or terrified. Tomorrow night I was quite possibly going back to my own personal Ground Zero, the place where my transformation had begun, the place where I may have met my kidnappers.

“Must be nice to be so popular,” a familiar voice said behind me. “Hanging out with the head cheerleader and captain of the football team, dating one of the hottest guys in Lincoln High.”

I spun around and saw Molly McFadden following in my footsteps. Thick, black glasses sliding down her nose, red hair pulled back in a ponytail that exploded in curls, pale blue eyes studying me, looking me up and down. She stooped to pull up one of her sagging white knee socks, but she didn’t stop walking.

“Molly!” I said. I wanted to tell her that I’d been looking for her at school and I’d tried calling her a hundred times, but I’d never been able to finish dialing. Calling Dad today had been the first time I’d been able to make a phone call since I’d gone missing. But I didn’t get a chance to say anything. In typical Molly style, she took over the conversation.

“I know we’re not besties anymore, but that doesn’t mean I don’t still care. I’ve been so worried about you and then I have to find out you were rescued by watching the news.” She leaned toward me for effect. “The frigging news, and you’ve been home for what, a week? Two weeks? I don’t even know how long you’ve been home and you still don’t call or answer my texts. And now you’re back at school, which I have to find out through the rotten Lincoln High grapevine. You could have at least posted a status update on Facebook—”