Chapter 1
Boston
Angel. I had seen one—or someone I thought was one. She had been right before me. Somewhere. Blonde hair. Green eyes. Flawless. A real angel? No…a girl. There was a girl, and now she was gone, transitioning from female to male. A man. A man yelling at a woman with dark hair. They were young. Mid-twenties. His jet-black hair was slicked to his scalp. Biker. Tattoos. A large hand lifted and blood flew from the side of her mouth in slow motion, the connection causing me to slow in front of the rundown bar.
City. Lights. The hum of traffic.
Strobing colors brightened and faded as a light glow suddenly surrounded me. Wooden walls. A cabin. Metallic perfume burning into my nostrils as large brown eyes looked up, pleading. Disgust rolled through me, and I smashed my fist into his face once again. Rage over what I had seen left me unhinged. Blonde hair. Angel. Her young face flashed, then an older boy who looked strikingly like her followed. Abusing, hitting my girl. Mine.
The faint memory barely wormed through, but somehow fed the heat encouraging my hand to slam into the biker’s face with more force. Flesh split under my power, oozing red. Flowing like a river of death—a death that would find him soon enough. I knew this place—this me.
Blonde. Blonde.
The scene wavered, but rushed back as I brought my knife up. The man’s eyes rolled under swollen, lacerated lids. The need to embed my blade through each one was there, but that wasn’t where he had hit the dark-haired girl. No.
“P-Please.”
The mumbling brought a smile to my face. I licked my lips, flattening the metal against his chin.
“You like to hit women?”
His mouth opened, bringing his bottom lip level with the point of my knife. Before he could speak, I pinched the thick meat and drove through the center. The pop from the layers of skin turned to resistance while I sawed through muscle toward his cheek in one direction, then moved back to the middle of his lip to slice toward the other cheek. Deep screams echoed from the walls as I ripped through what remained. The chunk of lip jiggled in my fingers while I brought it up so he could see.
Exposed, bloody bottom teeth open and closed as he screamed from pain—yelled for help. Help. Help. No…he’d find no help here.
Collection. Movie. Tape. Recording. Happiness.
****
Beep.
Beep.
Beep.
“What did I tell you about coming here, Lucy? Go home.”
Beep.
Beep.
Beep.
Another man. An older man. Eyelids. A chunk of cheek.
A black abyss.
****
Beep.
Beep.
Beep.
“You missed work again?” Whack! “What did I tell you?” Whack!
“Jeff, stop. You’re hurting me!”
“I’m going to hurt you a lot more if I find you here again. I told you to stay away. Boston is crazy. He did this to himself.”
“You did this! I hate you!
Shuffling.
“Get off me! You’re not my—”
“What? Your boss? Out, now! I better never catch you here again.”
A sob. A slam of the door. A second of silence.
Beep.
The void—a breath of time.
****
“Hey, Boston. It’s me again. I say that every time I come. So stupid,” she mumbled. “It’s me, Lucy. I know you probably can’t hear me, and I’m sorry it’s been a few weeks since I’ve visited. Jeff would kill me if he knew…I’m so sorry I distracted you. I feel horrible. I miss you so much. It’s not the same without you. I want you to get better. I want you to come back.”
Pressure squeezed into my hand, though I wasn’t sure how I knew. I didn’t physically feel the touch, but something within the darkness told me this person held on tight. Heat sparked in my core. Urges combusted, twisting, igniting. Awakening. My heart made itself known—thump, thump. One set of beats. Two. Gone. A weird heaviness pulled me back under, seductively smothering me, whispering lustful, violent-filled lullabies. Energy detonated from within the pitch-black oblivion and rage festered stronger than before.
Beep.
Beep.
Gone.
Exposed bone from the bridge of a nose.
A flap of skin wiggling between my fingers.
My yells. Anger. My fist as a meat tenderizer.
BAM!
BAM!
BAM!
****
Light flickered, blinding me. My eyes squeezed shut, and a woman’s voice registered. Tingling prickled the bottom of my foot and my leg jerked at the strong sensation.
“Yes, he’ll be awake again soon. I’ll get the doctor.”
Confusion had instinct bringing my lids up again and water pooled at the brightness. Someone was hovering above me. Brown haloed her head as her blurry figure leaned in closer.
“Boston, it’s Mom. Oh, Boston, we’ve all been praying so hard for you. Honey, can you hear me?”
She sniffled, and I tried to turn away, but I could barely move. My legs and arms felt weak. Stiffness had my entire body aching as I managed to shift the tiniest amount.
“It’s okay. You’ve been coming in and out of it for two days. Do you remember anything?”
A moan left me, and I flexed my jaw, making another sound. It was easier than the first.
“Shhh. It’s okay. The doctor is on his way. It’s so good to have you back. You have no idea how worried we’ve been.”
Lies. All lies.
I wasn’t sure how I knew, but my gut told me I was cautious of this woman who called herself my mother. Recollection was absent. Did I even know her? Irritation flared. She wasn’t who I wanted to see. Who that person might have been, I wasn’t quite sure. There was a girl. A blonde-haired girl. I knew her. I wanted her.
Sleep beckoned, and I gave myself over to it. There wasn’t intrigue to figure out answers. In truth, questions didn’t even come. I felt nothing. Cared about nothing. Familiarity accompanied the realization. The girl. She was the only thing making itself known. She was with me—in my mind. Maybe even inside me. I wasn’t sure how that was possible, but we were meant to be together. Fog took over my mind and I told myself I’d think more about it later—after I slept. After this woman was gone.
How much time had passed, I wasn’t sure. My eyes flew open at a deep voice. I wasn’t as out of it as I’d been before. Three faces stared at me—the dark-haired woman, a gray-haired woman, and a tall, slender man with red hair. He paused, flipping through his chart, eyeing me. It was only then I noticed another man way off in the corner. He was older too, mid-fifties, and powerfully built under his suit. His white hair and dark eyes triggered something, but it faded just as fast.
“Boston.” The dark-haired woman came back to the bed. Mother. Yes, hadn’t she said she was my mom? “Welcome back, honey.”
“W-Who…? I cleared my throat, barely able to swallow at the dryness. Water was quickly poured, and my head was lifted. I sucked from the plastic straw, eyeing the redheaded man wearily as he came around to the other side.
“What’s…” seconds went by before I had the strength to continue, “happening?”
“You were in an accident, honey.” The woman glanced from me to the doctor, but came back to me. “Poor Jeff was devastated. He thought he killed you.” She paused. “Well, he sort of did, but they saved you.”
It took me a moment. The name bounced around the emptiness and I shook my head. “Who’s Jeff? Who are you?”
“Me?” Fear drew in her features and her gaze shot to the red-haired man, her eyes pleading. Doctor.
“Amnesia is fairly common considering the circumstances. Boston, can you look ahead for me?”
I wanted to tell him I already fucking was, but light blinded one side, then quickly jumped to the other. He put the tiny flashlight back in his pocket and wrote something down on a clipboard. As he did, my agitation grew.
“Can you tell me your name—first, middle, and last?”
“Boston,” I managed. More searching. More blanks.
“It’s okay. No rush. Do you know where you are?”
“A hospital?”
“Yes. Good. Do you know what town we’re in?” Nothing. “It’s okay. Don’t push. Can you tell me anything you might remember? Anything at all.”
“Uh…” More time passed as I tried to gather my strength. “There’s a girl. Blonde hair. I can’t remember what her face looks like.”
The woman beside me shifted, looking to the white-haired man in the corner.
“All right. Anything else?”
I yawned, exhaustion creeping back in. Flickering scenery had the hospital room fading. A small, rundown cabin wavered into view. One of the windows was cracked in the far left corner, and the door hung open, leaning off-balance from the broken hinge at the bottom. I was in a forest. Trees towered above—bare, dead. It was cold as I spun in a circle. Blood covered my hands. So much blood. Looking down, my shirt was saturated in it. And I was smiling…and running? No, not merely running, I was chasing after someone.
“I’m Boston Marks. No middle name.” The words flooded from my mouth, but I had no idea where they came from. I was staring at the doctor, only just seeing him as the vivid pictures vanished from my view.
“Perfect. That’s all for now. Why don’t you get some rest?” The doctor motioned with his head to my mother, and the nurse checked some things on a computer screen before following all three of them out. I closed my eyes, seeing dark. Seeing my salvation. I liked this place. I didn’t want to be awake anymore. If I returned to nothingness, I could have her back. I could keep the blonde and do whatever I wanted. And there were so many things. What, exactly, didn’t come—just a desperate need buried in my subconscious I couldn’t decipher.
Minutes went by, and my door sounded. I refused to open my eyes or give anyone else my attention. Not that I really had a choice. As much as I wanted to fade away, my newly awakened state didn’t allow me to. I hung between the curse of awareness and brink of unconsciousness.
Footsteps approached. Light, barely existent.
“Boston?”
My mind fought through sleep despite the soft, feminine voice.
“I won’t stay long. I came to check on you. Your mom said you’re awake. That…well, that you woke up and have amnesia. I’m so sorry.” I drifted at her silence, only to jolt awake as she continued. “I’m not sure I can come back for a few days. Jeff will be keeping a close eye on me once he finds out your back.” She paused. “I should really go. I just wanted to—”
“Wait.”