5 Abbey Road (Broken Streets #1)

by Marita A. Hansen

  “Haven’t you two been watching the news?” Sarah asked.

  Gin grimaced. “Why would we watch that? It’s for old people. The only news that’s interesting is the school gos,” she said, putting extra emphasis on the word she bandied about a lot. Gin was always interested in the school gos, especially when it involved Kane.

  Gin continued, “Laura said that Kane’s cousin got stabbed by some old guy for tagging his fence, but others say he got his head bashed in. Which was it?”

  Sarah swallowed. “A baseball bat,” she said, wishing her mother hadn’t made her lie to her friends, or more accurately, purposely mislead them. Her mum had told her to text them that she would be away for a week visiting her grandparents. She just didn’t tell them it was her father’s parents, not her mother’s, the latter living in Christchurch.

  Gin sighed. “That’s so sad, Kane must be devastated. Everyone said him and his little brother were there, that they saw Mick get killed. It’s so wrong that the police took Kane for tagging after everything he’s been through. They shouldn’t punish him more. I know tagging is stupid, but it’s not like a real crime.” She frowned. “I guess those rumours about him being a tagger were true. Still, not like we’re all perfect, and he’s so gorgeous and nice. He’s not like those other hot guys who are just out for sex. He’s still friends with all his exes, which proves he’s nice. He also has the sweetest smile. No one who smiles like that can be mean. I really hope he isn’t away for long.” Gin continued to babble about Kane, which was her favourite topic. He had been Sarah’s favourite topic too—until her father had killed his brother.

  The first bell for class rang, the one that warned them to hurry along before the second one sounded ten minutes later. Gin didn’t seem to care, still babbling about Kane, mentioning she would volunteer to console him. Kane’s grief-stricken face returned from that night, the pain-filled expression permanently seared into Sarah’s brain.

  Having had enough of Gin’s insensitive babbling, she turned to go to class, forcing herself not to cry.

  Her friends followed her, both the stepsisters asking where she was going.

  “Class,” she mumbled.

  Gin grabbed her arm, stopping her in her tracks. “What’s wrong, Sarah?” she asked. “Are you upset over Mick dying?”

  More than anything.

  Gin let go of her arm and gave her a hug. “I know, I cried too when I found out. He was a big fat lump, but he was still Kane’s brother. My heart breaks for Kane. He must be suffering.”

  Tears welled up in Sarah’s eyes, knowing full well how much Kane and Jackson were suffering. She’d woken up so many times to phantom screams, screams that sounded so much like Jackson’s ones.

  She nodded her head, too choked up to speak.

  Gin gave her a squeeze, Melissa also giving her a hug, her two friends surrounding her. People glanced their way, then looked away, what they were doing probably not that uncommon of late, many people mourning Mick’s passing.

  Then a person she didn’t want noticing her looked her way.

  Josh Tatum.

  Kane and Mick’s friend was heading in her direction with another friend. Although Josh was the stepson of a policeman, he was troublemaker, constantly getting into fights. She’d even seen him in Claydon once, entering a known drug dealer’s house. Her mother had been driving by, and although it was a brief moment, she knew it was him since his looks were distinctive. He was an emo boy, with multiple piercings and dyed-black hair, which made his attractive features appear harder than they were. It also made his skin and pale blue eyes look washed out. But it was his sneer that she thought was his most distinctive feature, because it rarely left his face, and right now, it was aimed at Sarah.

  He knew who she was! Knew what her dad had done!

  Sarah wanted to run, but her friends were still hugging her.

  “Let go, guys,” she said to them, now feeling panicked.

  They did, but it was too late for escape, the boys stopping in front of them. Both Gin and Melissa turned to look at them, Gin gasping, probably shocked that two popular boys were in front of them. But Sarah didn’t feel the same way, fear the only thing going through her head.

  Josh narrowed his eyes at her, looking like he wanted to say something, but wasn’t sure what. While Sarah couldn’t say anything, fear silencing her.

  Josh’s friend tugged on his arm. “Don’t, Josh,” he growled. “She’s a freaking girl, you can’t do anything.”

  Josh’s lips twitched, clearly wanting to say—or do something. Sarah didn’t know what that something was, but it didn’t look pleasant, an anger simmering behind his pale blue eyes.

  Then just like that, he walked past her. Sarah spun around, watching with relief as the two boys got swallowed up by the mass of students, like a gaping mouth consuming them whole.

  “What was that about?” Gin asked. “Why was Josh Tatum glaring at you? What did you do?” A sudden squeal escaped Gin’s mouth. “Oh. My. God. Sarah! Did you get with him? Is that why he’s angry with you? Your virgin arse didn’t put out for him?”

  Sarah shook her head, her heart still pounding too fast to speak.

  “Then, why did he stare at you like he wanted to hit you?”

  “He looks at everyone like that,” Melissa answered instead. “And he probably only gawked at Sarah because we were hugging her. By the way, what’s up with you today, Sarah?”

  “Yeah, what’s up with you?” Gin chimed in. “You’re acting all weird.”

  “I don’t want to talk about it.” Sarah went to walk off.

  Gin stepped in front of her, blocking her way. “Nope, something’s up, and I wanna know what, so spill, girl.”

  Sarah grimaced. Whenever Gin wanted something she rarely backed down. If it wasn’t for Melissa, Sarah was sure she wouldn’t have stayed friends with Gin, her brash personality grating at times.

  “I wanna know too,” Melissa added, rubbing salt into Sarah’s wound.

  “Can’t it wait?” Sarah replied. “We’ve got to get to class.”

  “Nope, you’re telling us right now,” Gin said, stomping her foot to emphasise her point.

  Sarah glanced around the busy corridor. “I can’t tell you here.”

  She jumped at the sound of the second bell. A tall boy shoved past Gin in a rush. Gin turned away from Sarah to holler at him. He continued on his way without a glance back. Grabbing the opportunity with both hands, Sarah took off through the squash of students, escaping her friends’ questions. She knew it was stupid to run since they were in the same homeroom, but just saying what had happened scared her to death. How would they react? Would they still want to be her friend after they found out her dad had killed their crush’s brother? She’d only been going to Wera High for a couple of months and didn’t want to lose Melissa’s friendship, even Gin’s, because they were a package.

  Sarah stopped in front of her homeroom, looking through the door’s window. Students were taking their seats while the teacher fiddled with something in his bag. Sarah went to open the door but stopped as Gin called out from down the corridor, gaining on her. She didn’t want to be here, it was too soon to come back, so she turned and ran, heading towards the corridor’s back exit.

  Feeling like her lungs were about to explode, she burst out into the open air, sucking in oxygen as though she’d been drowning. The last students rushing to class gave her a fleeting glance, probably wondering whether she was hyperventilating but not caring enough to stop and ask if she was all right. The answer would be no to both, she wasn’t hyperventilating and she was far from all right.

  She kicked into motion again, racing across the field, heading for the back of the gym, needing to be alone to process all of her thoughts. She regretted it as soon as she rounded the corner, spotting Josh smoking. He froze with the cigarette halfway to his mouth. Sarah froze too, petrified to the spot.

  He dropped the cigarette and stubbed it out with the toe of his boot, glaring at her whil
e he did it. She willed herself to run as he started walking towards her yet she couldn’t move, not even an inch. He stopped right in front of her, barely a foot away. He wasn’t that much taller than Sarah, maybe an inch or two at the most. She was tall for a girl, five-foot-nine, though it didn’t stop her from feeling tiny in front of him.

  He wet his lips, the smell of cigarettes on his breath. “How did it feel when Kane didn’t show after you sent him that sappy letter?”

  Sarah’s eyes widened, shocked that he knew about her letter.

  His lips twitched, slight amusement crossing his face. “Me and my mates were watching everyone that went behind the gym to see whether it was worth it for Kane to show. He didn’t think so, said you weren’t his type. I disagreed with him, even told him if I was him I would’ve met up with you. He laughed at me, told me he thought I had better taste.”

  Sarah’s face dropped, horrified that Kane had said that about her.

  Josh raised a brow. “Did that hurt?”

  Tears started welling up, an answer not needed.

  “Looks like it did,” Josh said, “so much so that you wanted to get back at Kane.”

  “What?” Sarah said, his words startling her.

  “You wanted to hurt Kane like he hurt you.”

  Sarah shook her head, hating the idea of Kane hurting, regardless of what Josh had revealed.

  Josh moved his face closer, so close she could feel his breath on her face. “Don’t lie to me.”

  She took a step back. “I’m not. I didn’t even know he saw me.”

  “You’re lying,” he spat. “You wanted to get back at him, to make him suffer for not showing.”

  “I would never want to hurt Kane.”

  “Then, why did you set your mongrel of a father onto him and his brothers?”

  “I didn’t,” she said, her heart now pounding.

  “Yes, you did! Jackson told me you screamed out taggers. He couldn’t place where he’d seen you before, then it clicked, you and your mate had asked him about Kane.”

  Sarah started crying. “That’s not true, I didn’t ask him anything, it was my friend. I was just standing behind her.”

  “Jackson still recognised you, still said that you were the one who got Mick—”

  “I didn’t mean to get him hurt,” Sarah cut him off.

  His face twisted with rage. “You didn’t get him hurt, you got him killed!”

  Shaking her head, she started backing away, not wanting to hear those words, words that she agreed with. Despite her mum telling her not to blame herself, Sarah still felt responsible for both her dad getting arrested and Mick’s death. If she hadn’t opened her mouth, hadn’t shouted out that horrible word, none of this would’ve happened. The look that Josh gave her told Sarah he knew it too.

  And he was going to hurt her because of it.

  She turned to run, but before she could get away, Josh grabbed her by the shoulders and shoved her against the gym wall. She let out a startled cry, the sound getting cut off by his hand, clamping hard over her mouth.

  He lowered his lips to her ear, growling, “This is for Mick.”

  To be continued in

  197 HOLLY DRIVE

  Thanks for Reading!

  I would like to ask if you could review 5 Abbey Road along with any of my other books that you’ve read, regardless of whether you’ve loved or hated them, because every review counts, especially for self-published authors.

  Here’s the link to my Amazon author page, where you can find all of my books:

  http://www.amazon.com/Marita-A.-Hansen/e/B005H5W79K/ref=ntt_athr_dp_pel_1

  Regards,

  Marita A. Hansen.

  BEHIND THE HOOD

  SAMPLE

  1

  Maia

  Maia Daniels knew she should just ignore the boys. Walk past, don’t listen, she told herself. Don’t talk back.

  It was ten o’clock on a Saturday night. The gang were sitting on a wall outside Claydon Pub, passing around a smoke. She’d seen some of them at high school, when they decided to turn up that is.

  Whooping and yelling came from the pub. A television blared loudly, no doubt replaying the All Blacks’ rugby match against the Wallabies. Maia stopped at the driveway as a purple Holden drove into the car park. Music blasted from inside the souped-up machine, the bass pumping its steady beat out into the night.

  “Maia, c’mere,” Tama Harris yelled.

  The gang leader was eighteen, tall and solidly built, with a wide, flat nose. He’d shaved off his hair recently, replacing it with a curved pattern called a moko. Usually, the tattoo adorned the face, a sign of a Maori warrior—something to be proud of. But Tama was no one to be proud of, nothing but a dreg who constantly harassed her. Unlike the other boys, he wore his hoodie tied around his waist, his ripped jeans and muscle shirt unsuitable for the cold autumn weather. Maia figured he was probably high on something, either from the weed in his hand or the empty bottles at his feet—or both.

  “Hey, Maia! Are ya a double d?” a podgy boy with spiky blond hair shouted.

  “They sure felt like it,” Tama replied, his hand actions eliciting laughter from the gang.

  A blush ran across Maia’s cheeks. Shit, she hated her breasts. Even in her oversized sweatshirt they still grabbed attention. She pulled her hood further over her head, and rounded her shoulders. After another car passed, she hitched up her track pants and walked across the muddy driveway.

  Tama hollered, “Oi! I told ja to c’mere.”

  She looked back, aching to give him the finger, but instead jammed her hands into her pockets. God, she was a moron for sneaking out, but ... Ben’s raves were always awesome. Why couldn’t her mum let her go? It wasn’t like she did drugs, and the boys at the party were just mates.

  Tama’s scowl changed into a grin. He threw his joint onto the ground and jumped off the stone wall. With a jerk of his head, he indicated for the gang to follow.

  Maia’s heartbeat picked up. Still concentrating on Tama, she stepped off the kerb and onto Waiata Crescent. The blast of a horn made her leap back. The front passenger leaned out of a battered sedan, and swore at her. Ignoring the pimply git, she scooted around the car and across the side road.

  A loud wolf-whistle made her jump. She glanced over her shoulder. Tama’s eyes were fixated on her, promising things she didn’t want.

  He grabbed his crotch. “I like ya from behind, Maia.”

  All the boys, except for Mikey Thomas, laughed. Tama’s cousin looked away as though uncomfortable with what was happening. He was fourteen and in her class at school. She thought he liked her; either that or he had a staring problem. Yeah, she’d only noticed because she was usually checking him out too.

  Maia wondered if she could lose the gang by cutting across the highway. Traffic was heavy, making this option just as dangerous as stopping for Tama. Further up the road, past the tyre yard, the video and liquor stores’ lights were on. The neon sign of the happy video man was a welcoming sight. It was maybe a hundred metres away. She thought she had a chance of outrunning Tama. She was fast, damned fast. If she’d showed up to school enough, she probably would’ve been on the track team.

  “Maia, pretty Maia,” Tama taunted. “I’ve got sumpthin’ to show you.”

  Maia wasn’t sure whether it was a knife—or something else in his pants. She knew he carried a switchblade. He’d stabbed her brother in the arm once when Nike attacked him with a baseball bat. She’d always wondered whether this was why Tama harassed her. But she couldn’t blame Nike for it. Leila, his girlfriend at the time, had caused the fight. The bitch had cheated on him with Tama, then cried rape after he found out.

  “Leave me alone, Tama,” she said, remembering the last time he’d approached her. She’d kicked him in the balls for grabbing her breasts. “Nike said he’d beat the living snot outta you if you came near me again.”

  “I’d love to see him fuckin’ try. Plus, you owe me, bitch.”

  Maia k
new she should keep her mouth shut; that whenever she spoke it got her into trouble. Her mother had told her countless times, “You speak too much, Maia, you should listen more.”

  She grinned, unable to help herself. “What do I owe you? More bruised balls?”

  She heard a slicing noise behind her, the sound of a switchblade being opened. Shit!

  “Get her,” Tama yelled.

  Maia took off, her legs pumping hard and fast. Behind her boots pounded the pavement. The trainers she’d swiped from her brother were too big and clunky, making it difficult to pick up speed. She could hear someone getting closer, no doubt Tama. Damn, the prick was fast.

  Fingers brushed her arm. As she turned sharply, leaping over the bushes on her left, something metallic clattered onto the pavement behind her. Tama swore at Mikey.

  Maia ran down the little slope and across the driveway, ploughing into the back of a car as it pulled out of a space. Someone grabbed her hood, yanking it off. Her thick brown hair spilled out. She screamed and swung out with her arms, connecting with Mikey. He yelped and let go. She ran in between cars, almost bashing into someone as they opened up their door, then shot into the video shop, only stopping once she was in front of the counter.

  The twenty-something clerk looked up from his magazine. Short, with a badly pocked face, he was dressed in a yellow uniform that clashed with his bright orange hair. He appeared confused, until he glanced over at the boys entering the shop. Maia could see fear changing his facial features.

  “Can I please use your phone, Mista?” She moved around the side of the counter as the boys stopped at the other end.

  The clerk picked up the phone.

  Tama pointed his blade at him. “Drop it or I’ll slice you.”

  The clerk did as instructed and held up his hands. “I want no trouble, man.”

  “Then stay outta my fuckin’ business.”

  Behind Tama, Mikey grabbed a packet of chips from the stand in front of the counter and opened it. He was tall and skinny, dressed in the gang’s uniform of black boots, jeans, and hoodie. He started to munch on the chips, his eyes wandering up to the movie playing on the television screen above Maia’s head.