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.

that day. Hours. Until my parents, tired of my whining, finally

always watching. Never

me, hot and bitter, fueling my words. "Why are you even saying that? What

us could help you. Please." She grabs at my arm again. "We need you

Ah. She needs something.

No wonder she's here.

was hopeful her apology was genuine. It's dead now, like so many other little parts

shakes her head. "I am hired

Ava From

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 sh "No." My voice is cold

of helping you or anyone else. from that pack.

features twisting into an ugly mask of

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

might actually shift and

She straightens, smoothing her expression into one

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

turns to me, curiosity

my racing heart. "An old neighbor," I manage, my

316

From

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

nuzzling against me as I tremble,

The pain of their blows, both physical and emotional. The sinking realization that no one, not

she's right, but it doesn't stop the flood of emotions. Fear, anger, betrayal-they swirl inside me, a maelstrom threatening to pull

voice breaks through the chaos.

slowing down. Meeting her concerned gaze, I give the

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 Gratitude wells up inside me, and I manage

my fingers through her soft fur. Her presence is a

From

edges of my

her voice a gentle caress in my mind. But

me. "Strength? I'm shaking

facing it head-on, even when it terrifies you. And