Tangled in Moonlight: Unshifted (Ava and Lucas)

Chapter 73 Ava: Final Countdown

There's nothing to pack. The few clothes I have are courtesy of Mom shopping for me, and I have no interest in keeping them when I leave.

I'll go with a ripped pair of jeans and a shirt that I took scissors to, cutting off its holey hem until it looks tattered on purpose instead of because it's been washed too many times.

The only shoes I have are the heels I wore when they brought me home. Those, I put in a backpack Phoenix gave me from his old school days. Despite a decade of sitting in our attic, it smells like marijuana mixed with the cedar our home is built with.

Big brother was a bit of a rebel, I guess.

I have a pair of sneakers that are a half-size too small. I'll have some blisters, but I can buy a new pair somewhere. It'll be easier to run in them than heels.

The burner phone stares at me from its position on my desk. I know without a doubt that it has a tracer on it. I still have no idea if the phone Clayton gave me was tampered with; I know I had a level of paranoia that bordered on ridiculous during my stay with the Aspen wolves. But this phone?

I'm not paranoid.

Phoenix has decided that it's better to wipe my existence from memory than keep me as a hesitant ally.

So stupid, to ever think our interests could align.

I consider reaching out to Lisa, but I don't want Phoenix or his goons to get to her.

What if my desperate attempt to seek solace from Lisa only leads them straight to her doorstep, putting her in harm's way?

No way.

the one to drag her

ostensibly to the airport, tonight. I have to figure out another plan before then.

on my phone, there's a good chance that he wants

case I

possibilities. Paranoia has me in a chokehold I can't escape, no matter how much I try

Phoenix isn't here yet. Only the guards outside are

a fool's dream to think I could take three of them. My training was in self-defense,

the only way out I can think of, but

But there's nothing.

Mom's stilettos clicking against the floor. The way Jessa's truck roars into our driveway, like it's trying to announce its presence to the

for dinner. None of them give a shit if I eat. The only reason I even cook is because if I don't, there won't be any meal for me from

of a happy family. Dad's rumbling voice paired with

to the four of them,

only me who's never

listening in to a family who doesn't want me, only missing the person who's intending to

hurts

crystal around my neck reminds me of her, and I've developed a habit of fiddling with it. Every time I do, I have to tell myself to stop before

crawls up my spine, making me shudder, my arms jerking a bit with the force of the motion. Despite the early evening hour of 6 pm, the summer sun still blazes bright, casting

ache settles

If I die—

thought of leaving without saying goodbye tears