Tangled

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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.

hours that day. Hours. Until my parents, tired of my whining, finally dragged me to the

always watching. Never

yank my arm away, taking a step back. "You're sorry?" Anger surges through me, hot and bitter, fueling my words. "Why are you even saying that? What does that

you. Please." She grabs at my arm again. "We need you to

Ah. She needs something.

No wonder she's here.

in my veins, even as 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

head. "I am hired

Ava From

from our mates. Forced to cut ties with the alpha. Westwood is tearing us

of helping you or anyone

twisting into an ugly mask of rage. "You ungrateful

into the room, her hackles. raised,

her eyes flashing amber. For a moment, I think she might actually shift and attack. My heart pounds against my ribs,

She straightens,

she says, her tone clipped. "We can talk when you've settled in." With that, she turns and flees the

go, then turns to me, curiosity etched on her face. "Who

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

316

From

to say something, but I don't hear her. I'm

tremble, overwhelmed by the unexpected

sinking realization that no one, not even our neighbors, would help me Breathe, Ava, Selene murmurs in my mind. You're safe now. She can't hurt

it doesn't stop the flood of emotions. Fear, anger, betrayal-they swirl inside

breaks through the chaos.

of my heart, slowing down. Meeting her concerned gaze, I give

understanding in her eyes. "I'll be in the other room if you need me." She pauses, then adds, "Therapy isn't something to be ashamed of. If you're interested, just talk to me. Everything will be kept be

my fingers through her soft fur. Her presence is a balm,

From

of my

sorry you had to face that, she says, her voice a gentle caress in my

bitter laugh escapes me. "Strength? I'm shaking

of fear, Ava. It's facing it head-on, even when it terrifies you. And that's exactly what you