Rachel Clancy made a decision to erase herself from the lives of her friends and family. She did this, she believes, to free herself up to make some hard decisions. Only to realize out she was manipulated by a master into doing just what he wanted….
Now, she is alone with no one to turn to for help.
But fate isn't done with Rachel. When she is thrust back into the path of her former people—who have no idea who she is—she will find that life gives second chances. Will she gain redemption? Or is it too late…?
“I hate the nickname you’ve given me.”
Rolling over, I elbowed Jason hard in the chest. He grunted, more for show than actual pain, I suspected, and laughed. If my parents came home and found us lying in my bed together, there would be hell to pay. We only cuddled, but they wouldn’t care. All they would see was me, their sixteen-year-old daughter, Rachel, with her boyfriend, sprawled out together on my bed in my bedroom, a place they’d banned us from being alone in months ago.
I snapped my gum in my mouth and reread the text my best friend Kayla had sent me. She wanted to go to some club, wanted me to come out with her. If I went, I’d have to do so in secret. I’d never get permission to go, and Jason might actually lose his mind if I let him in on the plan. Sometimes he got really, really possessive. I hated when he did.
Most of the time.
“Why do you hate your nickname? Pixie-girl suits you.”
“Blah.” I rolled my eyes. “I’m way too old for fairy tales. I prefer to live in the here and now. The real world. Come up with something else.”
“I’ll call you whatever I want. End of story.”
I stood and made my way over to the window.
Why do I let him come into my bedroom if I’m just going to spend the entire time he’s here worrying about getting caught?
Apparently, he’d hadn’t finished talking. “Rachel, there’s lots of real things in the world. Things existing outside of your definition. Even some things found in fairy tales. Don’t be so closed-minded. I don’t like it.”
Jason’s voice had gotten low and sharp. I knew the tone well. Every once in a while, my sweet, gorgeous, blond, horribly popular boyfriend would seem like a different person. Where had the Jason I loved gone? Every once in a while he seemed entirely changed. I shivered and rubbed my arms. I pretended I had all the answers to life’s problems, but deep in my heart I knew I still had a lot to learn before I handled the kind of baggage Jason’s intensity spoke toward. Or so my mother said.
“Are you listening to me?” He banged on the wall as if his action might make me answer him faster.
What brought on these episodes? I mean, really, how much secret history did he have to hide to justify his darkness? He’d been born the upper-middle-class son of a prominent research physician. Jason’s troubles seemed pretty null and void to me. My family wouldn’t end up on some reality show for the deprived, either. My father, a science teacher with his summers off, who liked NASCAR, and my mom, an investment banker, managed to provide me with everything I needed or wanted. Unless something really awful happened behind closed doors, neither Jason nor I had much leg to stand on when it came to “issues.” Hence, why I had such a hard time understanding Jason’s dark, spooky side.