By Jus Accardo
Whilst an odd boy tumbles down a river embankment and lands at her ft, seventeen-year-old adrenaline junkie Deznee go snatches the chance to piss off her father through bringing the mysterious hottie with ice blue eyes domestic. other than there is something off with Kale. He wears her footwear within the bathe, is overly serious about such things as DVDs and vases, and acts like she'll flip to dirt if he touches her. it isn't until eventually Dez's father exhibits up, wielding a gun and realizing extra approximately Kale than he may still, that Dez realizes there is extra to this boy--and her father's "law firm"--than she learned. Kale has been a prisoner of Denazen Corporation--an association dedicated to amassing "special" young children referred to as Sixes and utilizing them as weapons--his complete lifestyles. And, oh yeah, his contact? It kills. the 2 workforce up with a bunch of rogue Sixes hellbent on taking down Denazen prior to they are stuck and her father discovers the most important mystery of all. A mystery Dez has spent her lifestyles retaining secure. A mystery Kale will kill to guard.
Read or Download Touch (A Denazen Novel, Book 1) PDF
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Additional info for Touch (A Denazen Novel, Book 1)
Not sounds coming from the party, men yelling. Heavy footsteps stomping and thrashing through the brush. The yelling came again, this time closer. I whirled in time to see someone stumble down the hill and land a few feet from the stream. The guy looked like he’d gone ten rounds with a weed whacker. This guy obviously hit the gym, something the local boys could’ve used. I bent down to check the gash on the side of his head, but he jerked away and staggered to his feet as the yelling came again.
His voice changed from surprised to deadly in a single beat of my heart and, crazy or not, I found it kind of hot. Acid churned in my stomach. In the driveway. Dad’s car. The damn thing never stuck for him. Only the cold, flat tone he used when speaking to me about everything ranging from toast to suspension from school. Trying to get a reaction from him, any reaction, was my sole purpose in life. According to him, Dad was the enemy, and I, the one who helped him back by the stream, the one who gave him my shoes and lied to those men, was a friend.
All the men would have had to do was turn to the right and they’d surely see him. I threw my hands up in surrender and pointed in the direction opposite the one I planned on going. Guess they didn’t trust a semi-drunk chick with a nose ring and no shoes. The guy had some serious nerve. Pointer, middle, ring, and pinky, over and over. Hell, he might even have a llama. Eventually, I gave up and settled on counting the heavy fall of my shoes, still on his feet, as they clomped against the earth.