Tangled

Chapter 59

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.”

So not only have I been dragged home, now I have to make

No, thank you.

plop down on the worn couch, reaching for the remote. The soft fabric smells like the

of him wants to chew me out like the disappointment I am. The other part is trying to play nice, to lull me into a false

eyes remain glued to the TV as I rapidly cycle through channels, a kaleidoscope of colors and

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Homecoming

with tousled hair and a roguish

had been

it clinically in my head to try to stop the feelings from overwhelming

1. me.

the alpha hero cups the face of his trembling omega mate, his eyes smoldering with an intensity that could set the screen on fire. “I will never choose her,” he growls, his voice a deep rumble that is probably

you go.

my life was as simple

woman.

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Ava: Homecoming (1)

familiar, nausea–inducing wolf washes over me, thick and musky with undertones of sweat and aggression. My heart pounds against my

he rakes his gaze over me. I fight back a shudder, memories of his cruel hands on my body making my skin crawl. I can smell the tuna on This breath from here, courtesy of the tuna sandwich for he eats

favorite smells now. I can’t even think about

his eyes off me. “If it isn’t little Ava Grey, back where she

I swallow hard, my mouth dry, as

necessary,” he warns,

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Homecoming (1)

for dinner. I

then.”

gives a lazy shrug. “Whatever you

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

to make sure you don’t try to run off

can we?”

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