(Please read Theron 1 before moving on to this book)
A stranger washes ashore on a deserted beach.
With no memory of who or what he is, the only clue he has to his identity--the only thing he recalls from his past life--is a single, solitary name:...
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I can feel someone watching me.
Stalking me.
The hairs on the back of my neck bristled in that mysteriously familiar way they do when someone is close.
My body always knows before me.
I may not remember one fucking thing about myself but I had come to discover I was blessed with extra ordinary senses. Simply put, I heard, smelled and saw better than the average human. While that sounds cool as shit, I can guaran-fucking-tee you, it most definitely is not.
Much like a dog with raised hackles, my heart shoots adrenaline through my veins.
It's a message to be wary, to stay alert...
Trouble's coming.
In this case, however, I know who is trying to sneak up on me.
I know this scent and I know it well.
So, I continue packing my bag, with what little I actually own, pretending not to be as aware as I really am. "Has no one taught you that it's impolite to sneak up on people, Arabella?"
"Fuck all, B.G, I told you not use that name 'round here," she whisper yells, her lips pursing in disappointment.
B.G. she calls me.
aka Big Guy.
Since I awoke and had no memory of my real name, I allowed it. She claimed I was a big dude so she would call me Big Guy. Unfortunately, it fucking stuck.
I smirk knowing I'm about to rile her up, "There's nothing wrong with Arabella. It's a pretty name."
She blows a loose strand of dark spiral curl from her chocolate face... a face that now looks a bit perturbed, "I don't need a pretty name! I live on the streets! I got a rep to protect!"
"Yeah, 'cause the name Ladybug really sends chills through the spines of men everywhere!" I chuckle with a faux shake of my body. I mean, she's fucking twelve for crying out loud. She's tough, but definitely not scary.
"Ah!" She throws her hands into the air and screeches, "It's BUG! Just Bug!"
"Oh. Right. Sorry, Cuddlebug."
"Fuck you."
I stifle a laugh, "Watch your fucking language... Beetlebug." Being the adult in this weird friendship is difficult for me sometimes. She sighs, deflated, "I wanna punch ya in the face, ya know that?" As if her little hand could reach my face. I got to give it to the girl though, she does have big dreams.
And then, she asks the one thing I have been dreading--the one question I have been preparing myself to answer for over a week now, "Why does it look like you're goin' somewhere?"
"Because I'm going somewhere," I return to packing, hoping the nonchalance in my voice is enough to make me leaving not sound like a huge deal.
