Wild Fire

By Arianna Courson

About the Book
Ember:
Light . . . That’s how I saw the world before everyone I once loved became dust.
Grey . . . That’s my life now. I can’t trust anyone anymore. Every time I do . . . I end up broken . . .
But that’s when he came . . .
I’m not sure if I’ll ever be the same . . .
I’m not sure if I want to be, either . . .
He’s much worse than feeling broken . . .
He’s ADDICTING . . .
He has secrets . . . Bad ones . . . I’d never thought I’d fall for something so . . .
Dark, mysterious, and . . .
DANGEROUS . . .
Max:
Her name is Ember Angelus, a beautiful girl who has been torn to shreds by the very people she loved. The people who were supposed to love her back.
I want her trust. I will do whatever it takes to gain it.
I don’t care how much she fights. I don’t care how much she screams. I don’t even care if she says she hates me, that I freak her out, that I’m too dangerous.
I know what she wants. Needs. Desires. And I intend to push her until she gives in. That’s what she wants anyway. I know this because I can read her. I know her better than she knows herself. I am what she desires, but she denies it.
Danger is my middle name. And if it takes holding her to me while she kicks and screams, I won’t let go until she falls asleep. Safe . . . Unharmed . . .
If that’s what it takes . . . that’s what I’ll do.
About the Author
Arianna Courson is a young author that loves to write. She is currently a teenager in her Junior year of high school. She works hard and tries to learn more about her genre in other books with the same genre. She loves to draw, and she loves music. Arianna loves to read, of course.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Dorrance Publishing Company
• Release date: Jun 8, 2023
• ISBN: 9798887298207

Book preview

Chapter One

Ember sat in her fifth block psychology class, waiting for the bell to ring in her ears.

Right before the school bell chirped, a tall, lean boy walked into the classroom.

Just seeing him from the corner of her eye made Ember’s curiosity spark, and she looked up.

He had coal black hair and dark eyes.

They almost looked black . . . Wait . . . were they black?

He wore a grey t-shirt and navy-blue jeans. A black backpack was thrown over his shoulder as he cast Ember a glance, his lips twitching up at the corners.

Did he know her?

No one had ever smiled at her like that . . . and he never gave any other person in the classroom a look either.

She had never seen that boy before. And she could tell just by how he looked that he was one of those people you should keep at a distance.

The way he smiled was a little between creepy and amused.

How was that even possible?

He never moved his gaze away from her, even when the other students in the classroom were whispering about his appearance and looks.

But he narrowed his eyes, tilting his head and angling his smile at Ember’s stare. Almost as if he were studying her.

She saw the light of recognition in his eyes . . . as if he somehow knew her . . .

She felt her heart pound faster under the heat of his stare. His eyes burned every coherent thought like fire.

Then Ember’s Psychology teacher came waltzing in, but he never broke eye contact. Ember was the one who did.

Something was off about him: his calm, soft, but menacing demeanor.

How his eyes looked like tunnels into the underworld.

So, Ember decided to focus on her teacher, Ms. Smith.

Hello, youngsters, she said, stacking papers on her desk. As you can see, we have a new student today. I won’t tell you his name, this is high school. If anyone in this school knows how to talk to people, it’s you guys. All you seem to do is yachty yack yack.

She glanced at the boy standing in the front of the room. Anyway, you can go sit next to that girl over there. She pointed to Ember.

Ember gulped cold air, but she kept her head down.

She didn’t like this effect he had on her. How his smile made her cheeks heat. She wanted control over herself. So, she decided to ignore him the whole class.

This boy was too dark and too mysterious. Ember wouldn’t have been surprised if he got into fights or trouble with the police.

His muscles were bulging out of his arms as he walked over to her, carrying his backpack on one shoulder. When he finally settled down, Ember could feel his eyes burning into the side of her head.

Alrighty, youngsters, Ms. Smith said, today we’ll be having a group project. She picked up a marker from the white board and pointed it accusingly at Ember. And NO exceptions.

Ember felt a chill glide down her body.

"We all have table partners now, she continued, so everyone has someone to work with."

The cap of the marker opened with a pop! and Ms. Smith started writing the assignment on the white board. You will be working with your partners to get to know them, and learn about their habits, wants, and desires. You have the rest of class to get this done.

Chatter scattered around the room as all the students pulled out their notebooks and got to doing the assignment.

Well . . . ignoring him wasn’t an option, Ember guessed . . .

Why did this assignment have to be today?

So . . . umm . . . Ember pulled out her notebook, what’s your name?

Max, the boy said. Oh good. So he could talk.

Max, what? Ember wondered, indicating that she needed his last name by tapping the paper.

Just Max.

Well . . . her straight A’s just went in the trash.

I meant what’s your last name. She took this moment to look at him. His eyes were dark and sinister, and she felt chills roll down her body at his cold smile.

Don’t have one.

She let out a light-hearted chuckle. Don’t be silly. Everyone has a last name.

He tried restraining a grin but didn’t respond.

She glanced down at her paper, scratching, "quiet" onto the first line.

She tapped her paper with her pen, trying to distract herself from his eyes that were burning into the side of her head. Can you please stop staring at me? she asked silently.

But you’re so beautiful.

Wait . . . what did he just say?

Here. She tore out a blank piece of paper from her notebook, pushing it to him with her finger. Do you have a pen?

Yes.

Okay, then my name is Ember, she said.

I know.

She felt a slight thunder of shock shake her. When she stared down at his paper, he wrote, "Ember Angelus."

How did he know my name? How did he know my full name?

Ember Angelus, Max said, letting his cheek rest on his hand as he looked at her. A broken girl. Corrupt.

Okay . . . this was creepy . . . She tried to change the subject. What do you like to do for fun?

I watch people, he stated, making her glance at him in the corner of her eye. I do things because I want to.

What are your hobbies? she wondered.

You’re nervous, Max noticed. Am I making you nervous?

What habits do you have? She ignored him.

I could ask you that, too, Emby, he stated, but I already know.

That was a lie.

Where do you live?

You bite your lip when you’re anxious, Max continued, making her heart pound ice into her veins. You never eat. You chew your nails. I could go on.

She glanced up at his black orbs as eyes, trying to mask the fear in her expression, but his grin told her she was terrible at it. "Can you at least give me something? I want to keep my grade point average as it is."

You don’t need good grades, Max stated boldly.

Yeah . . . she looked away from his hot stare, I do, so stop messing with me and let’s get to it.

You’re blushing, Max said, chuckling. Wow. You’re fun.

At that exact moment, she felt her cheeks burning. Stop it . . . you’re kind of freaking me out . . .

I know, he said, hooking his foot around the leg of her chair and dragging her closer. I’m testing you. And so far, you’re passing with flying colors.

Ember gazed over to see him smiling. It was a playful smile that no one had ever looked at her with. She felt her cheeks burn brighter. "What ‘test?’"

It’s a secret, he said, chuckling. I’ll tell you later when I feel like it. Then he added, "If I feel like it."

Why was he so creepy?

Max loomed over her. You’ll see what I mean. And he stood up, grabbing his backpack and throwing it over one shoulder. Oh. He opened the cap of his pen. If you ever want to go out, call me. He grasped her hand and scribbled his phone number on her palm before she could pull her hand away.

Wait . . . WHAT?

Max! Where the hell are you going? Ember yelled but he was already gone through the classroom door.

Who was this boy? How did he know so much about her? Something was going on. Something she had to find out.

Or most probably avoid.

qqq

The rest of school went by in an instant. Psychology was the only time Max showed; he had no other classes with Ember. She didn’t see him after he left, so she just assumed he ditched.

Why did she care anyway?

Well . . . for starters, he knew her name. Her full name, and Ember didn’t tell him or show him a paper with it.

He knew how to get under her skin. But there was something else, something that rested behind those cold dark eyes. Something warm, but she couldn’t recall what.

The moment she made it home, she stepped in the front door, shutting it softly behind her.

It took a couple of glances around the house to make sure she was safe.

At an instant she kicked off her shoes and darted up the stairs across the hall. She tossed her backpack to the side of her bedroom, staring at her desk for a moment before she pulled out her folder. She tugged out the paper from Psychology, gazing down at her writing.

Max, it said on the first line.

Quiet, said the second.

And the third was left blank.

Oh. If you ever want to go out, call me.

Who was this guy? Why did his eyes look so cold-hearted when his personality was light and humorous?

And how did he know so much about her?

Ember pulled out her smart phone from her pocket, glancing at the time.

4:10 p.m.

She sat on her bed, setting her phone down next to her. Opening her hand, she gazed down at the numbers scribbled on her palm in black ink. She blinked a couple times, then glanced down at her phone.

No, no. What was she doing?

Quietly, she picked up her phone, gazing down at the screen for a couple of seconds before pressing the home button and typing her passcode.

Pressing in the phone number on her hand, she continuously thought she was going crazy.

Ember held the phone to her ear, listening to the dial tone.

Hello? a man’s voice came through the speaker.

Is . . . Ember hesitated, is this Max?

Ember?

Y—yes . . .

Are you in danger? You sound a little out of it.

Yes—I mean, no. I just . . . she took a deep breath, I just wanted to talk to you.

A pause.

What about?

I just don’t understand what’s going on . . . she said. "Who are you?"

There was a brief moment of silence. I told you, he said, my name is Max.

But you don’t have a last name.

No, I don’t.

"Why did you say I don’t need good grades? Why did you say to call if I wanted to go out?"

Ember heard him chuckle through the other line. "You seriously don’t know what going out means? It’s a thing that people do. You know, like–"

"I know what going out fricking means!" Ember snapped.

Okay, okay. She could hear the smile in his tone.

She heard music playing faintly in the background. Where are you?

Somewhere.

Max . . . at least be honest for once . . .

He sighed. I’m at a club.

Which club?

His tone immediately turned humorous. Do you intend to meet me here?

She paused, staring down at the floor. Maybe.

Don’t sweat. I’ll come and get you.

Something warm struck her chest, and she couldn’t tell what it was. Wait, she said. You don’t know where I—

The line went dead, and she lowered her phone, staring at it in disbelief for a moment. Live, she finished.

Ember gulped cold air as she tried to steady the pounding of her heart.

Did Max . . . a boy she just met . . . know where she lived?

Are you sure you haven’t seen him before? she asked herself.

Yes . . . yes, she was sure. Nobody had this butterfly effect on her before. No one.

She tried to number off a list of how she could’ve possibly known him.

She had no boyfriends before, he clearly wasn’t a family member, and he didn’t have any features she remembered seeing. This was odd . . . How did he know her so well?

Then a horrible surge of anxiety clumped in her chest. Was he . . . stalking her?

That would explain a lot. How he knew her name, how he knew where she lived, where she went to school.

But one thing it didn’t explain was how he knew how to get under her skin. She was always quiet at school and outside of the house. Rarely did she ever talk.

Also . . . if he was stalking her . . . why did he show himself to her? Shouldn’t he have stayed hidden and fantasized about her?

She cringed at the thought.

This could’ve meant two things: either he was trying to gain her trust so he could do something horrible later, or he was protecting her from something.

Either way, he knew some things she didn’t. So, he had some talking to do. She promised herself to not get lost in the pounding of her heart, that she needed to focus to keep herself safe.

qqq

Five minutes later, Ember saw a large motorcycle roll up on the driveway. A teenage man with a black leather jacket and steel-toed boots swung off the bike and placed his helmet on the handle.

Even though he was thirty feet down, Ember could see Max’s black hair curl at the ends from sweat.

She grabbed her purse, shoving her wallet, phone, keys, and a small pocketknife into the front pocket.

Launching into a sprint, she ran down the stairs, slipping on her shoes as a brief knock subsided on the front door.

One second! she called as she pulled the back of her sneakers over her heels.

She ran over to the front door and opened it.

Max stood at the entrance, his black hair waving in the wind as his obsidian eyes focused on Ember.

I have a question, she stated.

He raised his eyebrows, his gaze saying, Hmm?

How do you know where I live?

He pointed his thumb behind him. Everyone lives in this neighborhood. I just asked your neighbor which house was yours.

Who did you ask? she quizzed, not believing a word out of his mouth.

Tall, he explained, blonde, lots of wrinkles.

He just explained the old lady across the street, Ms. Wellsworth. Clearly, he couldn’t have known what she looked like if he didn’t ask her, right?

Then . . . why did Ember still seem unsure if he was telling the truth or not?

Well, you coming? He nodded his head to the driveway.

I have more questions. How did you know my name?

People at school talk about you.

That was very vague. "How did you know it was me?"

Max scanned her for a moment, eyes raking head to toe. You have a very uncommon body type.

This seemed to make her heart pound harder as her face heated. What . . . do you mean. . . ‘body type?’

Dark brown hair, his voice softened a touch, ocean blue eyes, and white skin. You always wear anime skirts and t-shirts. He indicated to her outfit. And you have a very rare personality.

Rare? She wasn’t sure she felt comfortable with him knowing all this stuff about her, when she knew nothing about him.

Kind, sweet, his lips quirked up at the corners, vulnerable.

Ember pulled her hands to her chest, as if she were trying to ease her throbbing heart. And you found all this out just by kids talking about me?

Max shrugged. Somewhat.

What was that supposed to mean? How else would he know these things is he wasn’t stalking her?

Well? Are you coming?

Is it safe? she asked without thinking. Why did she ask a boy she felt unsafe with if she was safe? The only thing he was going to do if he was stalking her was claim innocence and lie.

Max’s smile changed to something she never seen. It was sad, caring, and a kind smile. You’re safe with me, he said, I promise.

Her blood heated after he spoke, and she was confused as to why she believed him, and why she wanted to go with him.

My mom will be home soon . . . Ember murmured.

Tell her you’re going out with a friend.

Ember blinked. But she knows I have no friends.

His smile tilted. "Then she’ll be very happy you made one, won’t she?"

After taking a glance behind her to the house, Ember turned back to Max. Yes, okay. I’ll come with.

Chapter Two

Ember had to deal with pressing her body against Max as he rolled his bike down the highway. He was really warm, and she hoped he didn’t feel her legs squeezing his when she tried not to fall off the seat. He went over seventy miles per hour when it was a fifty-five.

After what felt like hours, Ember felt a dizzy spell cast over her as he parked his motorcycle in a space next to a restaurant.

Ember pulled off her helmet, gazing up at the sign, Mario’s Subs. I thought you said you were at a club.

I was. Max’s black hair curled at his forehead and neck, making something warm wash over Ember’s face.

Why are we here? she wondered.

Thought you were hungry. He shrugged.

She blinked a couple times, then looked over at him. How did you—

I took a wild guess, he responded.

It was as if he had a gateway to her mind . . . but no . . . that was impossible.

You haven’t eaten breakfast or lunch, Max continued. I wanted to give you a nice meal. Your stomach is probably eating itself right now.

Another wave of uneasiness wash over her. How did you know I didn’t eat breakfast or lunch?

You told me.

She pondered for a moment. I did?

Yeah.

I don’t remember . . .

Well, sometimes us humans forget things. He said humans like he hated the word.

C’mon. Max nodded his head to the door.

Ember took a step back, anxiety clogging her airways. Hold on . . . You still didn’t answer my question . . .

This seemed to take him off guard. "I believe I answered a lot of your questions, Emby, now let’s go inside."

Her heart started throbbing again at the controlled anger in his tone. Why do you want me to go inside so badly?

Because, he said, eyes darkening, it’s getting cold, it’s warm in there.

Who ARE you? Ember questioned, fighting back tears.

Her tone seemed to catch him off guard. I told you, he said, clearly trying to calm his voice. My name is Max.

"How did you know my name? What do you want with me?"

He held out his hand, but she flinched away. When he lowered his arm to his side, he said softly, I answered that, too. People at school talk about you.

Quit it! Ember yelled, making him flinch. Quit finding loopholes and tell me what you want! She took a couple steps back when he inched toward her. Stop it! Stay back! She pulled the pocket knife out of her purse and flipped the blade out, pointing it at his chest.

Max stopped, throwing his hands up innocently. Ember, he said in his most soothing tone, put the knife down. You’re going to hurt someone.

Her heart was pounding so hard she thought it was going to burst, anxiety scorching her insides to the point of where she felt she was being boiled alive.

How do you know me? she yelled. Are you stalking me?

What? No!

Quit lying! QUIT IT!

Ember, Max whispered, it’s going to be okay. Just put the knife down, and we can talk, okay?

He stepped toward her, and she inched back a couple steps, coming up short against a car. Stop there or I SWEAR I’ll kill you!

Emby, he breathed, stepping closer, put the knife down. I’m not going to hurt you, I swear.

Stop! she screamed. Stop trying to manipulate me! STOP!

He reached his hand out. Give me the knife.

Get any closer and I’ll SLICE YOUR CHEEK OPEN!

He didn’t stop. Let go of the knife.

She felt trapped between him and the car. Panting, she ducked under his arm and dashed toward the parking lot’s exit. Strands of her light brown hair fell out of her ponytail as it whipped in the wind. Feet slapping the ground, she almost made it to the exit when something caught a hold of her arm.

Next thing she knew, she was backed against a car and Max pinned her hand that held the knife to the solid surface.

Let me go! she yelled, struggling to move. LET ME GO!

Emby, he whispered, did you take your anxiety meds this morning?

Let . . .me . . . go . . .! She kicked at him, but he held her legs to the car with his own. Get off me! GET OFF!

Ember, he breathed, let go of the knife. Let it go.

Help! Someone help me! she cried, fighting his hold.

Ember, his voice became stern, "let go."

She dropped the knife and it clattered to the ground. He released her immediately after and she fell to the ground, shaking. When he kicked the blade, it scraped all the way across the parking lot.

Emby, he whispered, you know why I did that, right?

Go away. Leave me alone . . . Her voice shook.

He sighed, kneeling in front of her. You’re a danger to yourself right now, I’m not leaving you alone.

Stay away, she growled. Stay back.

I’m not going to hurt you.

I don’t believe you.

He settled to a crisscross position in front of her. If I wanted to hurt you, wouldn’t I have used that knife against you?

She nodded.

Did I?

She shook her head.

Then why are you so afraid of me?

Because . . . she whispered, you’re a stalking creep and you’re freaking me out so go away.

Although the stalker part is kind of true, he said, making her tense, it’s for your best interest.

"How is stalking me in my best interest?"

Because I’m keeping you safe, he explained.

From what? she said sarcastically. "Santa Claus?"

No.

"The only person I don’t feel safe from is you. So just leave me be and I’ll be safe."

Emby, he said, I’m not leaving you, and that’s final.

"You’re telling me stalking me, enrolling in my school, taking me inside an abandoned restaurant, and cornering me is supposed to make me safe?"

He didn’t respond at first. "One it’s not abandoned, and two, if you’ll just let me take you inside, I can explain everything."

"Like how you know everything I’m thinking?"

Yes.

You’re just manipulating me again.

"Of all the things I am, a manipulator is not one of them. If you’ll let me take you inside, I’ll answer your questions."

Ember kept her gaze on the ground. No tricks?

Max shook his head. No tricks.

She stared at the ground for a moment. Fine.

qqq

Ember had come to like this restaurant. It didn’t have bright florescent lights like the grocery store. There were lamps that had a very soft glow. The walls were lined with a light blue color. Hummingbirds painted in a darker blue scattered across the entire store.

Apparently, this restaurant was actually a cafe and a sub shop. And they sold the best tea. Ember hated coffee. And . . . somehow . . . Max knew this, and he got her a cup of chai, her favorite tea.

After staring out the window for a couple minutes, Ember shivered slightly at the chill of the restaurant.

Cold? Max said, his tone dripping in amusement.

No, she responded.

You know, he leaned back in his chair, clasping his hands behind his head, you’re a terrible liar. The worst I’ve ever known.

"You don’t know me," Ember stated harshly, still gazing out onto the streets.

I know you well enough to see you twiddle your thumbs when you’re lying. He grinned. "Your tells are very obvious."

Ember’s lashes lowered in annoyance. She hated how he knew so much about her when she knew practically nothing about him . . . Well . . . other than he was a jerk.

And now you’re mad, he noticed.

What makes you say that? she wondered, trying to not to snap. That would show him he was right, and she wanted to prove to him that he didn’t know her as well as he thought.

You’re gritting your teeth, he explained, "your muscles are tense, and you won’t look at me. His voice turned sarcastically pouty. It hurts, really."

Ember felt her anger rise in her bloodstream, although the heat didn’t cover the frost in her veins. "You don’t know me," she repeated.

I know you well enough to notice you cover your fear with anger, he said. I know you well enough to see you don’t want to like me, but of course I know, he leaned in closer, "that you do like me."

Ember tensed more as her anxiety reached her throat. That’s it, she said, I’m out of here. And she stood, walking to the door when she heard Max’s voice.

"How you going to get home? How do you know where home is?"

She stopped mid-stride. Oh, God . . . he did this on purpose—took her here on purpose, knowing that she wouldn’t pay attention to how they got here.

Frustrated, she settled back in her seat, cheeks burning a bright red. Take me home, she demanded. You can’t keep me here.

Not until you eat. Max pushed the menu to her with a finger.

"I’m not