Tangled

59 Ava: Homecoming (I)

When I walk downstairs, Phoenix is hanging up the phone. It strikes me how much I’ve changed when I realize I have no curiosity, no spark to ask who he was talking to.

I don’t care.

It’s either related to me in a way that isn’t going to be pleasant, or it will have nothing to do with me. That’s it. Those are the two options.

I have no urge to grow closer to the asshole who shares my genetics, so I don’t ask.

Instead, I plan.

I won’t be able to escape right away. I’m not even sure how I can escape. I have no money, no phone, no

contact with the outside world. But now that I’ve been

out there? Now that I’ve been on my own?

It doesn’t seem as impossible as it did when I lived

here.

If I just have a chance, I’ll take it.

“Some of the guys will be coming by to watch over

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59 Ava: Homecoming (1)

you,” Phoenix announces, coming by to sniff at me. “Don’t start anything. There’s plenty in the fridge, so just make something for dinner. Don’t forget that Alpha Renard is coming.”

not only have I been dragged home, now

No, thank you.

fabric smells like the artificial scent of

struggling, I can tell. Part of him wants to chew me out like the disappointment I am. The other part is trying to play nice, to lull me

of acknowledging either side. My eyes remain glued to the TV as I rapidly cycle

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Ava: Homecoming (1)

familiar scene catches my eye. A hunky male lead with tousled hair and a roguish grin. The over–the–top soundtrack swelling with orchestral passion as

had been obsessed with at the apartment.

to stop the feelings from overwhelming my heart. Terrible acting. Melodramatic plot. Cringeworthy dialogue. A lump forms

1. me.

an intensity that could set the screen on fire. “I will never choose her,” he growls, his voice a deep rumble that is probably sending thousands of women across the country into a dramatic swoon.

you go.

on a bitter laugh. If only my life was as simple as worrying that my mate would want

woman.

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opens the door, but my body betrays me. The scent of a familiar, nausea–inducing wolf washes over me, thick and musky with undertones of sweat and aggression. My heart pounds against my ribcage as if begging to be let out.

finding me on the couch. A slow, predatory smile stretches across his face as he rakes his gaze over me. I fight back a shudder, memories of his cruel hands on my body making

one of my least favorite smells now. I can’t even think about tuna without

never taking his eyes off me. “If it isn’t little Ava Grey, back

leering stares just as unsettling. I swallow hard, my mouth dry, as Phoenix turns to

necessary,” he warns, his tone hard.

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Homecoming

here soon for dinner. I don’t need any issues before

then.”

widens at the threat, and he gives a lazy shrug. “Whatever you say, Phoenix. We’ll be perfect little angels.”

drifts back to me, and I force myself to meet it head–on, refusing to show fear. A muscle in his jaw ticks, and I know

step closer. “We’re just here to make sure you don’t try to run off again. Can’t

can we?”