A Runaway Mate

Chapter Nineteen.

 Rebel’s Point of View.

            Holding the cold, metal door handle, I twisted it open. My footsteps seemed to echo, and for a moment I was paranoid that Finn could hear them.

            John looked up from writing something, his warm smile spreading across his face. His eyes that reminded me of Finn’s pierced at my heart as he pushed himself up from the black leather office chair. He strode confidently over to me, bracing me tightly in a hug.

            Hesitantly, my arms raised to return the embrace.

            “To what do I owe this pleasure?” John sat back down behind his desk gesturing me with his to sit in one of the chairs placed in front of the great wooden desk.

            I sat with my legs pressed together tightly, my shaking hands wringing together with nervousness. I cleared my throat before speaking. “I, uh, I need to tell you something…important.”

            John’s welcoming smile faltered, his dark brows twitching with confusion. “Is something wrong?”

            I looked down at my hands, chuckling bittersweetly. “Such a simple question, but yet it holds various answers.” I hooked my thumb over my shoulder, towards the door. “Can anyone overhear us?”

            John sat straighter in his chair, shaking his head. “Uh—no, no. It’s soundproof room.”

            My lips pursed, nodding slowly. “Well, you see Mr. Adams—”

            “John,” he corrected with a genuine smile.

            I politely returned the smile for a second, before it dropped from my lips. “You see, John,” I paused, inhaling a shuttering breath. “I’m a runaway.”

            As the words fell from my mouth, a burdensome weight was simultaneously lifted from my shoulders. It made it easier to breathe, someone finally knew. Deep down, I knew it should’ve been Finn who I told first.

            I watched—waited—as John’s eyes grew a fraction, his mouth falling agape. He started sputtering.

            “It wasn’t really by choice,” I quickly added. “I have an inkling what you might be thinking. The reason being that I might be dangerous, having done something so illegal that I had to get away. But that’s far from the truth. I only need you to hear me out before you mind link Finn or call security,” I joked lightly. “I just need your help, John.”

            John swallowed, remaining quiet. His hands clasped together on top his desk. He slowly nodded.

            “My life hasn’t been easy, and I’m going to explain why. I haven’t told anyone, and you may be wondering I’m deciding to do this now considering we just met today. I’ll explain everything in the end, you just need to sit back and listen.” My voice came out professional and surprisingly confident. It contrasted to what I was actually feeling inside.

            John nodded.

            I inhaled deeply and wiped my clammy hands on my pants. “I don’t have parents, not anymore anyway.” I went straight to the point, not wanting to waste any time.

            John visibly stiffened in his chair, his eyes shining as if he wanted to say something. He held my gaze, blinking slowly.

            Exhaling the breath I held in, I dove into the story of my life. I described every detail, heartache, and every moment I gave up. John sat silently, absorbing the new information. Half way through my autobiography, he tore his eyes off mine. I feared that he was disappointed in me, like my mother would have been. But his shoulders shook and I realized he had tears formed in his eyes.

            My voice cracked, but I refused to cry. Not because I was afraid, but because I wanted to show John that I was strong. I’ve matured, realized my mistakes and learnt from them. I’ve learnt to live with the situation I had been dealt with.

            I wanted him to see how brave I was, even if I never truly saw it in myself.

            “And this is where I need your help, John.” I leaned forward, both my hands grasping his. “The only way to stop Tate before he hurts anyone else is to kill him. But I can’t do that with Finn in the way, I refuse to let him get hurt because of my past.”

            John squeezed my hand reassuringly, determination filling his dark eyes. “My pack will help you fight.”

            I quickly retracted my hand, shaking my head violently. I stood from the chair. “No, Tate is ruthless and unbelievably powerful, even when I thought he was human. If your pack goes with me, you’ll all get slaughtered.”

            John stared at me. “Are—Are you asking me to choose between my pack in turn for your life?”

            “It sounds bad when you say it out loud, but yes. You’ll be safe if I’m the only one that goes to kill Tate.”

            “What if,” he paused, shaking his head as he looked to his desk. “What if you die? Finn will feel it, every second—”

            “About that,” I interjected. “I need to know if there’s any way he won’t feel anything. I don’t what him tracking me down while I’m near Tate.”

            John took in a deep, shaky breath. His head fell into his hands, running roughly through his brown locks. A habit similar to his son’s. His grief stricken face was hid from my sight. A beat passed before he answered. “You have to reject him.” His voice was deep with sorrow for his son. “It’ll only work if he hasn’t marked you.”

            “Good,” I breathed, then chuckled. “We haven’t even kissed.”

            A sad smile twitched at John’s mouth. “Then it’ll work.”

            I offered John an encouraging smile. “You’re making the right choice. You know that, right?”

            “It feels wrong,” he said slowly. “I’m sorry, Rebel.”

            “My father always told me great leaders make great sacrifices.”