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CHAPTER ONE
8 years earlier . . .
TESSA
I check my outfit one last time in my full-length mirror. Callie rolls her eyes impatiently. “Can we just go, please?” She’s eager because her new boyfriend is waiting for us in the car outside.
“Are you sure he won’t mind me coming?” I ask.
“I told you already, he’s fine about it. We’re going to a house party, and there’s gonna be loads of people there.”
We rush down the stairs, and my care-worker pokes her head around the kitchen door. “Going somewhere nice?”
“Cinema. Mike cleared it,” I lie.
“Ten o’clock curfew,” she shouts after me as we head out. The care home where I’m currently living is nicer than most places I’ve stayed, but it’s strict on curfews and rules. I’ve spent my life in care, passed around several different foster homes, and now, at the age of sixteen, I’m here. They no longer call them children’s homes, but that’s what it is—a home for the kids no one wants. They say if you haven’t been adopted by eight years old, you’ve missed your chance, and for me, that’s the case.
I climb into the back of the black BMW. I can’t lie, I’m a little impressed. Callie gets in the front and leans over to kiss the guy in the driver’s seat. He then turns to me, smiling, and I catch a glimpse of a gold tooth. “I’m Jase,” he introduces, and I try not to look shocked. He’s a lot older than me and Callie. She never mentioned that part.
“Tessa,” I say warily. He winks, then turns back around and starts the engine.
We drive around for a half-hour before he pulls up outside a house. It’s huge, much better than the houses on the estate where we live, and there’s music pumping from inside. As we get out the car, I see people hanging around in the garden. They all look older than me and Callie, and I hook my arm in hers and lean close so Jase doesn’t hear me. “You never said you were dating Hugh Hefner,” I hiss.
She laughs. “He’s not that old.”
“Yet he’s not that young either.”
She rolls her eyes. “Come on, Tess, lighten up. He’s twenty-five, hardly a grandad, and he thinks I’m eighteen, so don’t say a word.”
“Where did you meet him?”
“A bar. Live a little and let your hair down. These parties are amazing.”
I look around doubtfully as we head inside, trailing behind Jase. He stops occasionally, shaking hands and chatting with the other partygoers, but eventually leads us over to a couch. He waves down a passing girl carrying a tray of drinks and takes two glasses of wine, handing them to us. I hate wine, but Callie gives me a warning glare to keep quiet and smile gratefully. When he turns to chat with someone else, another woman places a tray on the table with lines of white powder neatly sectioned and some black straws.
“Is that what I think it is?” I hiss, and Callie nods. “You’re not gonna do that, are you?”
Jase crouches at the table and takes a straw, sniffing as he guides it along the line of powder. He grins at us before offering the straw to Callie. She takes it, and I watch in horror as she does the same. She turns to me, but I’m already shaking my head. “Come on, Tess, don’t be a bore.”
“I’m not a fucking bore, Callie. If I go home out my face, they’ll kick me out.” I’m proud of the fact that I haven’t gone down the route so many kids in my situation do. I’ve never done drugs or smoked, and I only have the occasional drink.
“They’ll kick you out soon, anyway,” she mutters, handing the straw back to Jase. She’s right, I can only stay at the home until I turn seventeen, and then they’ll point me in the direction of a hostel or a bedsit. The thought terrifies me because I’ve never lived alone. I’ve always been surrounded by other kids.
“You’re an idiot,” I mutter. She’s only doing this crap to impress her new boyfriend. He’s not even that nice-looking.
“If you’re going to nag, go away,” she snaps. Standing, she wraps her arms around Jase and kisses him. I shudder, watching as he leads her away towards the stairs. Great, now what?
The atmosphere in the room suddenly changes. People begin to shift uncomfortably and then they part, almost like they’re waiting for a storm to pass through. A group of men appear, all dressed in smart suits with gold watches on show and shades covering their eyes. I feel like I’m watching a movie scene, and I want to laugh at the ridiculousness. They stop in front of me, and one of the men lifts his shades, revealing his piercing blue eyes that stare hard into mine. “Move,” he says clearly.
I look behind me to make sure he’s speaking to me. When I see he is, I frown. “No.”
He stares a little longer, unsure of what to say. I don’t suppose many people tell him no. Another guy pushes to the front. “Who’s she?” he asks, also lifting his shades to eye me suspiciously.
“Who are you here with?”
“Jase,” I reply.
They both exchange a smirk. “Where is he?”
