19
Ava
“Oh my god, he’s actually here,” I whisper, a frantic sort of panic creeping up my back. We didn’t have time to get into another episode of Logan and Ava Can’t Figure It Out, but we just couldn’t resist it.
“You can’t be here, or I can’t. Ugh, why did I call him?”
“Because I let you think you couldn’t call me,” Logan mutters. With a tortured groan, he separates from me, taking as many steps away as the length of chain will allow.
“Ok, you can finish with the bolt cutters, I’m gonna go, I dunno, up my truck’s body count,” I say, tossing them toward the tree and taking off before he can convince me otherwise.
Logan yells after me, but I can’t hear him over the force of my boots hitting the ground, hurrying back toward my truck.
Leaves and mud slip under my boots in the dark, but I manage to get over to it and inside fairly quickly.
The engine whines and takes a few more seconds to cooperate than usual.
I lean on the horn to get Jackson’s attention, and when his headlights flash against my window I know I’ve got it.
The engine groans and the truck lurches to a start.
“Easy, girl,” I tell the trusty old thing, knowing she wasn’t coming out of this without a couple more scrapes. I didn’t need to make it far, just far enough to draw Jackson away.
Having a car chase in the woods is nothing like the little escape maneuver donut I did in the brewery parking lot. Mainly because of how many more trees there are here, and how very much in the way they all are. Every single one of them.
Every direction I swerve at all of twenty-five MPH reveals yet another tree in the way as Jackson’s vehicle comes up on my tail.
I brake-check him, and my back regrets it instantly when our bumpers make sudden, powerful contact.
It throws my body forward to hit the steering wheel sharply.
The horn sounds as the cage rattles off the back of my truck and crashes into the middle of Jackson’s windshield, splintering the glass in a spider-web pattern.
I let out a triumphant laugh, as Jackson reverses momentarily, wheels twisting as he retreats.
Then he accelerates hard, and the impact of his bumper to the side of my truck sends me across the bench seat. Driven by physics, my truck slides, tilts for an agonizingly slow moment, before it lands heavily with all tires firmly on the ground.
Dizzy, I grab at the driver-side door that apparently I neither closed nor locked, push it further open and slide out onto the leaf-covered ground.
Stars and tree branches swirl above me for a moment, as I lie on my back and think about definitely calling out of work tomorrow.
“Shit, Ava?” Jackson swears, his boots coming into view.
I try to kick at him, but while my world is still spinning, it’s pretty ineffectual. I push up on an elbow, groaning. Jackson’s hands close around my upper arms to try and pull me up the rest of the way.
“I’m fine, really,” I mumble, not as convincingly as I probably could have, and then gasp in pain from him trying to lift me, the shoulder that hit the ground protesting. He lets go of me immediately, and it shakes loose a little whimper. That was so unnecessary.
“Ava!” Logan yells, my name distorting into a wolfish howl.
My head rolls to the side. A sliver of moonlight cuts through the clouds, and I spot Logan some distance away, straining at the chain.
An involuntary growl bares his teeth, seeming to rip through him. He staggers back against the tree, raking a path of destruction across it with suddenly pronounced claws. He doubles over, his wolfish transformation bursting at the seams of his clothes.
Ok, maybe now it’s time to take the werewolf thing seriously.
A few leaves kick up against my face as Jackson curses. “Ok, just, wait here.” He gets back into his van, the engine starts, and fuck, I think we’re back to square one.
His wheels spin in the mud while the metal of Logan’s chain creeks and groans, before the van finally takes off.
With a high-pitched note, one of the chain links finally breaks. Fully canine, Logan drops to all fours, singularly focused. I feel his fur graze my skin as he passes over me in the dark, before he’s tearing a path through the woods pursuing Jackson.
The two disappear deeper into the trees until even the van’s engine can’t be heard. A distant wolf howl makes my heartbeat pick up.
Wincing, I gingerly work on getting back up. Ok, so I’m not entirely in a rush, after he just fucking left me here. Jackson could do with a little more fear in his heart.
It’s not so much of a sprint as it is a light jog, but I run long enough through the woods until there’s a stitch in my side and every breath is a task.
Heavy footfalls jostle my shoulder, but it’s manageable.
Just as I’m questioning how much longer I can keep this up for, the hill crests, and my foot catches on a rock jutting out of the ground.
My balance is yanked out from under me. Honestly, I don’t even care at this point; this might as well happen.
Some dirt gets inhaled on my tumble down, and I cough it out as I roll to a stop at the bottom.
A cold stone wall meets my back, and the glance over my shoulder reveals the foggy windows of a small garden greenhouse.
I don’t know how much more of the Scooby-Doo chase I can take right now.
For a moment I consider trying to duck inside and bar the door with whatever’s there, bags of soil, terracotta pots?
I’d love to just give up and hide till morning. I could, maybe.
The thought of Logan catching up to Jackson propels me to sit up, groaning, my bruised upper arm smarting. That idiot might have broken my heart, but he doesn’t deserve to get mauled for it.
Pausing, I look around. There’s the shadow of the Hayes House further on, the swath of forest that comes right up to the yard. It looms from its perch, high on another hill.
I chew the inside of my cheek, wondering if it’s wise to be so close to it. That’s the den of the wolves that I bitched out in a parking lot. Laura and Aiden might accept an apology from me in the daylight, but I’m not so sure about that on the night of the full moon.
Nothing about tonight has been wise. I wish I’d brought a real flashlight, instead of the weak light of my phone. I wish I’d brought bigger bolt cutters. I wish I’d thought to wear something more substantial than this flimsy, worn T-shirt.
But I don’t regret coming out here, looking for Logan. If anything, I’m glad that I found him before Jackson did, that I got to say my piece.
A few seconds pass just sitting in the cool, soft grass, the lush field lit up under the full moon. I’m sure I’m alone, until a bit of movement on the edge of my vision snags my attention. The wind prickles up my skin as a wolfish silhouette comes into view.
“Logan!” I call out, waving a hand through the air. The stress of the last few nights melts away at seeing him again, even if he’s currently a big, scary monster. I don’t care, I’m just so relieved.
At this moment, there is nothing wrong in the world. Yeah, my truck might be totaled, and there is a non-zero chance my ex is bleeding in a ditch somewhere. Maybe those things can karmically cancel out for a minute. All I care about is reuniting with my werewolf situationship.
He stalks along the edge of the woods, following a scent. The wind tugs on a few strands of my hair, and his stride slows as he spots me. I see that spark of recognition in the slight tilt of his head. My heart lifts somehow even higher.
“Over here!”
I call, I wave, but I see Logan’s hesitation from across the grassy field.
There’s a heart-rending moment before I realize that my words do nothing, and I doubt if they get through at all. An ocean of moonlight divides us.
“Come here, sit with me,” I plead. “Are you ok? Let me see you.”
My breath catches painfully in my throat.
The soft, overlong grass sways in the wind, brushing my ankles as I hold my hand out to him, coaxing him closer. His approach is guarded, watching me through each century-slow step. I can hardly bear it.
After all this, did he still believe he had to withhold himself from me? He must. And I know it’s because I’ve done nothing but withhold my heart from him.
I’m tired of running from this feeling. Maybe I don’t need to keep trying to leave at any moment just to prove to myself that I can. Because I don’t want to, I want to stay and be with him.
“I love you. Get over here.”
The words tumble out on a sigh, as if they’re natural to say. They aren’t nearly as hard to get out as I thought they’d be.
His ears droop, flick back, questioning that he’d heard me right. Then he cuts across the field quickly, reaching my side in a matter of moments. There’s a little wag to my werewolf’s tail as he crowds up against me. He drops to his knees, loosely within my embrace.
No tranquilizer darts sticking out of him, thank fuck. He’s not covered in blood either, so I assume that means he left Jackson alone.
“Good, good,” I exhale, all the adrenaline of this night finally winding down.
He growls something that takes me a moment to realize is my name, the sound running up my skin. “Ava.”
“Logan,” I sigh back, all my fears and relief packed into his name.
“This whole time, I’ve tried to keep you safe. And you keep running headfirst into danger,” Logan growls against my neck.
“It’s hard to run ass-first,” I mumble, and he nips at my skin to hush me. It hits me all at once that in his arms, everything feels like it’ll be alright. It’s so clear how deeply I’d been lying to myself. And if I don’t stop, I’ll just keep hurting him.
He had somehow become a fixture in my life I could not live without. His absence immediately carved a void in my world.
My hands find his face, holding him with the fear that he will still pull back, that if I let go for even a second, I’ll lose him again. Running my thumb over his lower lip, I plead in a hoarse whisper, “Kiss me?”