Don't Let Them Find You (The Dyian Series Book 1) Read online

  Don’t Let Them Find You

  By Brandy Isaacs

  Text Copyright © Brandy Isaacs

  All Right Reserved

  Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Xander

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Xander

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Xander

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Xander

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Xander

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Xander

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  Xander

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  Chapter Forty

  Xander

  Chapter Forty-One

  Chapter Forty-Two

  Xander

  Chapter Forty-Three

  Chapter Forty-Four

  Xander

  Chapter Forty-Five

  Xander

  Chapter Forty-Six

  Xander

  Chapter Forty-Seven

  Xander

  Chapter Forty-Eight

  Xander

  Chapter Forty-Nine

  Xander

  Chapter Fifty

  Xander

  Chapter Fifty-One

  Xander

  Chapter One

  Sydney Lake woke on Monday morning the same as she had the last 120 days—trying to remember her real name and where she was from. Not that it did much good. Every day she struggled to let her mind go blank in hopes that something familiar would rise to the surface. Like trying to pick a leaf out of your tea. She let out a deep sigh when, as usual, the surface of her mind remained blank. Throbbing, but blank. The pulsating headache wasn't the result of her attempt to remember her past—no this was the result of way too much tequila last night.

  Sydney took another deep breath, but this one was to ward off the turmoil she could feel building in her stomach. She lay on her back with one arm over her face and the other clutching at the sheets next to her leg. Her skin felt like it was coated with a thin layer of tequila scented oil, as if her body had been so desperate to get rid of the poison it had excreted it through every pore. That kind of thinking lead to a bitter saliva flooding her mouth and she groaned and tried the deep breathing method one more time.

  “Fuck,” Sydney croaked as she quickly rolled out of bed and stumbled towards the bathroom. The world spun and she had to hold onto the walls to stop herself from falling on her face. She cursed again as she bumped against the bathroom door hard enough to slam it into the wall with a loud bang. With all the grace of a toddler learning to walk, Sydney stumbled to the floor and got the toilet lid open just in time. Her entire body contracted for the hurl. She flinched at the moan that accompanied the splash of vomit hitting the water. She barely had time to draw a sour breath before her abdominal muscles clenched again. “Shit,” she breathed resting her head on the toilet seat.

  A small movement of air caused Sydney to open her eyes. A hand was holding out a red plastic cup of water in front of her face. She took it, silently refusing to meet the eyes of the person holding the water. She needed deep fortifying breath before gulping the water. She knew what was going to happen, but it was better than the alternative. The water bearer swished out of the bathroom, leaving her to pull herself together. Sydney got as much of the water into her stomach as she could before her body rejected it. When her body was finally too tired to convulse anymore she leaned away from the toilet and rested her back against the cool tile behind her.

  In an effort to avoid Shay a little longer, as well as wash the smell of sweat, tequila, and vomit off herself, Sydney took a shower. She kept the water cool enough to raise gooseflesh across her skin and, eventually, it helped clear the fog of her brain. She had to hold onto the shower walls to stop herself from falling as the room continued to spin whenever she closed her eyes. Afterwards, she scrubbed a layer of enamel off her teeth, but cringed when they still felt fuzzy. Shutting the cabinet, she met her own disappointed reflection. Her dark brown hair hung in wet strands around her shoulders and her bloodshot, blue eyes glared at her accusingly. She brushed her hands across her cheeks in a futile effort to make them feel less swollen and puffy.

  Finally, Sydney rolled her eyes at herself, slipped into her bathrobe, and scooped up her dirty pajamas. After tossing the sour clothes onto the floor of her closet she pulled on clean pajama pants, a tee-shirt and slunk out of her room to face the music. Shay was waiting for her at the kitchen table and slid another cup of water towards her.

  “Coffee,” Sydney croaked.

  “You need water,” Shay smirked, her soft, brown eyes twinkling with good nature.

  Sydney grunted at the smug look and eased herself onto the chair. She sipped at the water to make sure it wasn’t going to come back up before she took several large gulps. She sighed before raising her eyes to Shay’s face. Her perky blonde friend raised a brow at her.

  “I guess last night was a better idea then than this morning?”

  “Oh shut up,” Sydney huffed weakly.

  “Where did you go anyway?” Shay asked.

  “The Pit,” Sydney admitted grudgingly.

  “Oh god, Syd, that’s never a good idea,” she laughed.

  “Yeah, yeah,”

  “Did you run into Xander?”

  Syd closed one eye like a pirate squinting through a spyglass. “I can’t remember,” she admitted.

  Shay sighed. “This is getting to be a pretty regular thing.”

  “OK, Mom.”

  “Look, I’m just saying that maybe you should take it easy.” Syd sighed loudly and leaned away from the table. “Sydney…”

  “What!? I still work. I pay my bills. I don’t bring any drama back here…”

  “No. I know you don’t. But…”

  “But what?”

  “Never mind,” she sighed.

  Sydney narrowed her eyes as the other woman studied her. She knew Shay wanted to pump her with questions. Ones that Syd couldn’t—wouldn’t—answer.

  “Have you ever thought about talking to someone?”

  Sydney’s eyes went wide. “Like who? About what?” She knew the fact that she refused to talk about her past only encouraged her friend to imagine the worst. If only she had been willing to make up a history to appease those who asked she could have avoided a lot of speculation and assumptions.

  “About...your problems….”

  “Jesus! I don’t have problems!”

  It was Shay’s turn to sigh. “OK. Well, I’m going to shower and then go to the shop.”

  “OK.” Sydney’s insides wilted. She felt horrible turning away her friend’s concern. Three months ago when she
moved in with Shay she had sworn to herself she wouldn’t get close. But, she should have known that was as dumb as when anyone in movies and books insisted on the same thing. It hadn’t taken long before Shay started asking her questions she couldn’t answer. “Where are you from?” “Do you have any family?” Hell, even the simplest questions had been impossible to answer. “How old are you?”

  Sydney had resorted to evasive and crafty ways to answer questions like that. “How old do I look?” she had asked. Shay thought about it with as much seriousness as anyone who didn’t want to offend a young person asking that. “Twenty...two?” she answered.

  Sydney chuckled kindly before answering. “Close. I’m twenty-three.”

  “Oh! Me too,” Shay laughed, relieved to have undershot the answer. “Where are you from?”

  “Oh, all over. But I’ve been close to Chicago for a while now.”

  She reverted back to the answers she had used to give Don. He never seemed to believe the crap answers she came up with though. She picked at a healing callous on her thumb. Thoughts of Don caused Sydney’s stomach to clench again. Don was dead and she had to stop thinking about him. Guilt pulled her forward and forced her head onto the cool polished surface of the table.

  “Headache?”

  Shay’s voice caused Sydney to flinch. “Yep.” Her breath wafted back at her and she was glad she had brushed her teeth.

  “Here,” Shay sat a folded wax packet on the table and Sydney raised her head and smiled gratefully. “I’m meeting Xander and Zak later if you are feeling up to joining us.”

  “Yeah, maybe.” But Sydney knew she wouldn’t. The combination of hangover and guilt had darkened her mood enough that she knew she would spend most of the day in bed. She poured the white powder on her tongue and struggled to not taste it as she washed it down with the water. Syd shuddered at the aftertaste of the herbal remedy. Shay and her herbs, she shook her head, they tasted awful but usually worked.

  Sydney made her way back towards her room as Shay left the apartment. Her shuffling steps reminded her of the sound of Don wandering about his little store. His worn leather slippers making slick, sweeping sounds across the linoleum floor. She clenched her teeth and willed herself not to think it. Thinking it would eventually send her into a spiral that only illicit substances would stop. Don died because of you. “Shit, here we go,” Sydney muttered to herself as she shut her bedroom door and rested her forehead against it.

  Chapter Two

  Sydney exhaled a long stream of spicy smoke and tried not to cough. “Much better,” she mumbled to herself. Her headache was already starting to pass and by the time she put away the glass bowl her brain was beginning to feel like cotton. She melted into her bed and stared at the ceiling with a dreamy smile. “Take that, hangover,” she chuckled. It wouldn’t be long before her brain would so convincingly insist she was hungry she would be able eat and push the remnants of her hangover out once and for all.

  Somewhere in the back of her mind Sydney’s voice of reason muttered something about hoping the smell of the weed would dissipate before Shay returned home. Not that Shay was anti-weed, far from it. But combined with her excessive drinking last night, the “waking and baking” today it would look pretty bad for her argument that nothing was wrong.

  Syd ran a hand over her face waiting for the drug to sooth her restless mind. One of the hardest parts about having no memory isn’t that everyone is a stranger. The biggest stranger of all was the one looking back from the mirror. It was the complete lack of knowledge about your own body. What was the scar on her knee from? Why did she have the remnants callouses on her fingers? Why did her left ankle hurt sometimes when it rained?

  ***

  The first time Sydney met Shay she wasn’t sure what to make of the woman. She found her through an ad on Craig’s List and had, apprehensively, called her to arrange a viewing of the room that was listed. Having no ID, no family that she remembered, or friends, and being unwilling to seek police help for her situation, Sydney had figured her best option was to find a room to rent. She had cash—even if the method of acquiring that money made her sick to her stomach, and most people who were just looking for a roommate weren’t going to do background checks.

  Shay answered Sydney’s phone call and her voice immediately put Sydney at ease. It was light, friendly and nearly every sentenced ended on a high note making her sound like everything she said was a question. “I’m calling about your ad—the room for rent?”

  “Yeah! Awesome! Do you want to see the place?”

  Why else would I be calling? Syd wondered looking at the cheap prepaid phone she had just bought. “Yes…”

  “Great! What’s your name?”

  “Sydney.” She gave her the name she had chosen three months earlier.

  “Perfect!” Shay relayed the address and Syd wondered what was so perfect about her name. “I’ll see you when you get here.”

  Sydney hung up the phone and second guessed herself. The woman sounded friendly enough, too friendly actually. Who is that nice to a stranger? Sydney forced herself to let go of her paranoia even though she knew she had plenty of reasons to be paranoid.

  The address Shay gave her was in the Andersonville neighborhood and Sydney raised a brow at the shop in front of her. The Bark and Meow. A sign in the window announced that the shop sold organic cat and dog food as well as other wholesome and natural pet supplies. Weird. She buzzed at the door she assumed led to the second floor apartment. A moment later the same perky voice from the phone answered.

  “Hello?”

  “I’m Sydney. I’m here to see the apartment.”

  “Oh! Hey! Hi! Come on up,”

  When the lock released with a loud buzz, Sydney pulled the door open and cautiously peered inside. The stairwell was dim, but no one was lurking inside to attack and possibly behead her. Before she made it all the way up the stairs the door to the apartment was thrown open and a grinning blonde woman was beaming at her. “Hi! I’m Shay!”

  Is she asking me, or telling me? Sydney grimaced and hoped it looked like a smile. If I live here it’s going to take a while to get used to how she talks… “I’m Sydney.”

  “I know! Come on inside.”

  Sydney wrinkled her nose inside the apartment. A weird and mildly unpleasant smell permeated the apartment. Do hippies always smell like patchouli? How do I even know what patchouli smells like? Sydney wondered with a sigh. The apartment was nicer than she expected. A large living room on one side and a kitchen and dining area on the left. Sydney followed Shay through the apartment as she pointed out the different areas. The place didn’t have a cohesive decoration scheme other than comfortable and handmade. There were knitted throws tossed over the couch and loveseat. Paintings that were obviously not store bought prints lined the walls depicting images of bright and fantastical scenes of mythical creatures and impossible worlds. But there were also pencil sketches of landscapes and people. Sydney smiled, taken aback by how comfortable she felt already.

  “My room is the last door. Straight ahead. The bathroom is on the left and your room is here.” Shay opened the door on the right.

  “My room?” Syd looked at her, surprised, before stepping into the room.

  “Yeah. Don’t you want it?”

  “Well, yeah—yeah I do. But, I don’t know. I guess I just didn’t expect you to offer me the place so quick.”

  “Oh, I knew you were the one on the phone.”

  “How’s that?”

  “I just knew. You know?”

  “I guess…”

  “Besides, we match.”

  “Huh?”

  “Our names,” Shay laughed and tucked some of her blonde curls carelessly behind her ear. “Shay and Sydney. It just rolls off the tongue, don’t you think? Sydney and Shay. Shay and Sydney.”

  Sydney tried not to laugh. “Sure, I guess so.”

  “You know, ‘hey, let’s go to Shay and Sydney’s place,’ or, ‘Shay and Sydney are so much fun.�
�� It just feels right, right?”

  Sydney found herself smiling without intending too. She hadn’t even realized she still could. “Yeah. Yeah that does make sense.” And it did. She felt comfortable here. Safe.

  “Well, when do you want to move in?”

  Sydney loved that Shay took it for granted that she accepted. “When can I move in?”

  “As soon as you go get your stuff,” her voice lifted at the end again.

  “Is that a question, or permission?”

  “Yes,” Shay giggled and shrugged before turning and bouncing back towards the living room with her long skirt swishing around her bare feet.

  “Well,” Sydney followed her. “I don’t have much stuff actually.” She gestured towards the bag she had left by the door. “That’s all I have.”

  “Really?” Shay flopped onto the couch and put her feet on the coffee table. “I wish I could travel so light. You don’t have a bed or anything?”

  “Nope.” Syd waited for Shay to ask questions but was relieved when she didn’t.

  “Well, you can sleep on the couch tonight if you want. Tomorrow we can get my brother to give us a ride to New To You. It’s this great second hand store that donates most of their proceeds to charity. They usually have beds there.”

  “Sounds good to me.” Syd sat on the other end of the couch and met Shay’s smiling face.

  “I’m so glad you are staying here!” Shay reached out and slapped Sydney’s knee gently.

  “Yeah. Me too,” Syd smiled back. “So...what made you take on a roommate?” She hadn’t meant to ask the question—questions would just open the door for Shay to ask her questions, but it just popped out. The paranoia talking, she figured.

  “Meh,” Shay shrugged. “Business is good. But it’s expensive to live in the city. I gotta pay my mortgage. Besides, I like having a roommate.”

  “Business?”

  “Yeah! The shop downstairs is mine!”

  No surprise there, Syd snorted to herself. “I can understand that. But how in the world do you have your own business already?” She realized the rudeness of the question after she asked it.

  Shay smiled, seemingly unperturbed by the question. “My grandmother left me and my brother a little bit of money. Our parents convinced us to invest it in doing something we enjoyed,” she shrugged. “So, are you new to the city?”