A Runaway Mate

Chapter Seventeen.

Rebel’s Point of View.

            “So, Rebel, tell me about yourself.”

            I had never been good at explaining my interests or hobbies. To me, I was quite a boring person. I didn’t have any hidden or special talents. My cheeks and the tips of my ears became heated under the expectant gazes from Finn’s parents.

            I was half-tempted to tell them the whole truth; just to see their reactions. That I was a runaway child and was still supposed to be on the run from one person that made my life a living hell but now knows I’m still here and will stop at nothing to get me.

            But in the end, I settled for, “Uh, I’m from Virginia.”

            And once the sentence left my mouth I wanted to reach into the air and grab the words and stuff them back into my mouth for the statement would lead to more questions.

            John’s eyes lit up and his chest swelled with pride. “I know a pack from there.”

            Katherine rolled her eyes at her husband and asked me, “What made you come to Washington?”

            Mentally, I cursed at myself. They were asking questions I was desperately trying to avoid. Swallowing the lump that had formed in my throat, the dark feeling inside me grew.

            Finn grabbed my hand, giving it a supportive squeeze.

            Breathing out a shaking breath, my eyes connected with Katherine’s. “I heard a lot of good things about this place; so I decided to go.”

            John picked up his glass of wine and took a sip. “What about your parents?”

            As my heart clenched at the thought of them, sadness and anger washed over me and fear was the foundation.

            “You don’t have to answer that if you don’t want to,” Finn interjected, obviously feeling the range of emotions that poured from me. When his parents looked at him strangely, he looked at them back with a firm stare. As silence fell over the table. I knew they were talking through their pack link.

            The only thing that broke the tension was the waiter arriving with our food. Plates were distributed and drink were refilled. Finn and I had ordered pasta with red sauce with spices and green leaves on top the meal.

            Either Finn’s parents had forgotten the question or let the question go, and started another conversation. They told stories about their trip. Kathrine was laughing as John told us the story when he thought the Alpha of the other pack was a cab driver. Surprisingly, I was laughing along with the table. But when my eyes unconsciously glanced towards the large window at the front of the restaurant, I froze.  

            He stood in the same dirty clothes. His pale hands rested by his thoughts, balled into tight fists. The hood to his jacket was pulled over his midnight black hair, casting deep, eerie shadows over his face. When our eyes connected, he gave me his hauntingly smirk.

            Finn’s laugh had faded as he looked over at me, concern written on his face. My eyes blinked rapidly, snapping my attention to my half-eaten food. Fear coursed through my veins like ice water, but I desperately tried to rid myself of the feeling. Inhaling deeply, I tried to regulate my breathing to normal.

He isn’t real. He isn’t here. He isn’t real. He isn’t here, I chanted over and over inside my mind.

Peering over to the window, it only showed the filled parking lot. No one was standing there, he wasn’t standing there.