Tangled

158

158

158 Ava: From the Past

"Ava, is that you?"

The familiar rasp has me frozen, my heart lurching into my throat. Slowly, I turn around, coming face-to-face with a ghost from my

past.

Our neighbor. Margot Mitchell.

Her once vibrant auburn hair is streaked with silver, her face a

roadmap of wrinkles and scars. It's her eyes that haunt me. Piercing green eyes that see everything and do nothing.

"Margot," I greet, my voice tight with caution. "What are you doing

here?"

She limps

toward me, her gait uneven from some injury she incurred long before I was born. I remember asking about it once, and my mother slapped the back of my head, admonishing me for my rudeness. "Oh, Ava. I'm

I tense as she reaches out, half-expecting her to grab me, to drag me back to the hellscape I escaped. But she merely places a hand on my arm, her touch feather-light.

"I'm sorry," she whispers, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. "I'm so sorry for everything. For not intervening when..." She trails off, her gaze flickering to the ground.

The shame she tries to portray leaves me feeling dirty. Unclean from her mere presence.

Memories flash through my mind, unbidden. Margot's face in the

$2.00

150 As from the Pant

window, watching as I was taunted and beaten, even by her own son. Listening at the front door as my parents berated me, their voices carrying through the window. Her figure rushing inside. when I tried beggi I was thirteen.

He broke my wrist.

my parents,

always watching. Never

sorry?" Anger surges through me, hot and bitter, fueling my words. "Why are you even saying that? What does that do for me

none of us could help you. Please." She grabs at my arm again. "We need you to

Ah. She needs something.

No wonder she's here.

my stomach churns. There's a tiny part of me, almost miniscule, that was hopeful her apology was genuine. It's dead now, like so many other little parts of "How did you know I was

am hired to clean

From

Her eyes fill with tears. "Please, Ava. Think of your pack. So many of us are separated now. Taken from our mates. Forced to cut ties with the alpha. Westwood is tearing us apart. They

of helping you or

contorts, her features twisting into an ugly mask of rage. "You

stalks into the room, her hackles. raised, teeth bared. She positions herself between Margot and me,

For a moment, I think she might actually shift and attack. My heart pounds against

instantly. She

"We can talk when you've settled in." With that, she turns

go, then turns to me,

trying to steady my racing heart. "An old neighbor," I manage,

316

Aws: From the

Vanessa's eyes, followed by sympathy. She starts to say something, but I don't hear

tremble, overwhelmed by

vivid and visceral. The jeers and taunts of my packmates. The pain of their blows, both physical and emotional. The sinking realization that no one,

Fear, anger, betrayal-they swirl inside me, a maelstrom threatening to pull me

breaks through

breath. A few beats of my heart, slowing down. Meeting

something to be ashamed of. If you're interested, just talk to me. Everything will

Vanessa leaves, I turn my attention back to Selene, running my fingers through her soft fur. Her

From the

of my

she says, her voice a gentle caress in my mind. But you handled it with

"Strength? I'm shaking like

it head-on, even when it terrifies you.