Chapter 10 Ava: Freedom

I make it two days before I give up and call Lisa, ten minutes before her shift. She doesn't answer the first time, so I call again. This time, she picks up, and her annoyed voice brings tears to my eyes.

"Hello?" that wonderful voice snaps into my ear, suspicious and guarded. She thinks I'm a robocaller.

"Hey, Lise." Somehow, I manage to sound normal.

"Ava? This isn't your number. Did you lose your phone?"

I pick at the inseam of my jeans, staring out the train window, focusing on the rolling hills beyond the raindrops splattered against my window. I've switched trains a few times and bought multiple tickets at each station, just in case someone figures out how I left the city. In the end, I've managed to take an odd, loopy route that has me now in Washington. "Yeah.

Look, if anyone from my family tries to contact you… Um. God, this is going to be a lot that I can't explain before your shift starts, but the main thing is that if my family contacts you, tell them you don't know anything. Save this number under a random name. Call me Ashley or something."

"Okay."

Her instant acceptance warms my heart. My nose tingles as a few tears escape, sliding down my cheeks. It's enough to take the edge off that pain in my chest that refuses to leave, as though something important is missing.

It has to just be in my head, though, right…? If he was my fated mate, he would have never looked at me the way he did. I've never heard of a fated who hates their mate. Even the abusive ones.

is. It's a knowledge deep in

me go that easy." Or

up my belly and death gripping my throat.

in shock. I can't believe you ran away. I want to say congratulations, but I'm

Two?"

bite my lip.

"Never?!"

things I've never told you, and I promise I'll explain it all. But the first thing is the most important. I'm not

shifters, aren't they? The ones that rule over the entire area?" Her

want to talk to me anymore? I know

to talk to. Someone who

half-laugh sounds from my phone. "Girl, I don't care about that. I'm just… processing. Holy

"Mmhmm."

that's why you've just… run away. And not answered my texts in days,

"I know. I'm sorry. I ditched my phone and thought I shouldn't contact you, in

just poked her head in here and stared at me. I need to clock in. Look, Ave. I'll save your number, and we are going to talk, okay? Should I get a different phone in case they like,

know they control the police and everything around

no idea. Oh, God. I hope they can't. I got a burner. Maybe you

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