Page 3 of Forgiving Fate

Alec sat across from me, and when he asked me for my name, I hesitated.

The simplest question a person can ask, I had no idea. It’s a basic question. One you’ve known for most of your life and I couldn’t answer it.

I almost said the dreaded name that themonsterhad been calling me and for the first time, I broke down, but not completely. Because I refuse to let that monster of a human have my tears.

Hetook my parents. My life. And now my identity.Hewill not have my tears or any emotion.

I told him my name. A name that didn’t feel like my own. And within a few hours, I had a phone and was calling Logan.

He left me alone to shower and get dressed in new clothes. I refused to look in the mirror because I knew I wouldn’t recognize the girl standing there. I knew all I would see were the scars thatheleft on me, and I can’t handle that now. Maybe never.

After the plan was made that Landon would be the one to get me, Alec refused to let me leave until I ate something, but I suspect that was more to do with the woman I heard yelling at him outside the cottage.

When the time came to meet Landon, one of the guards dropped me off. And here I am, sitting. Waiting to be brought across the country to the one person I have left in this world.

I bury my face and almost fall asleep when I hear the familiar sounds of a car approaching. Slowly, I lift my head up and see a man getting out of a car parked on the side of the road. He’s tall. His hair is hidden by a black beanie. He is wearing a black and gray flannel and I can see tattoos peeking out from the top near his neck under the black shirt he has on beneath.

His eyes lock with mine, and he pauses a moment before advancing. He runs a hand down his beard-covered face and I see his chest rise and fall. I swear he mutters something under his breath, but I can’t hear him. I just sit here and watch the man I presume to be Landon Hayes.

I know what he is thinking. How is he going to handle me? What is he supposed to do with this damaged beyond repair girl, sitting on the curb, waiting for him to bring her across the country?

Not that I blame him. I don’t even know what to do with myself.

He shakes out his hands and runs one across his long jean-clad legs before shaking his head and continuing to walk towards me.

When he gets a few feet away, he hesitates, looks around, then sits a few feet away from me on the curb.

Silence blankets us, and for a moment I look away towards the flowing river across the street. I try to focus on the sound of the river, but soon it morphs into a sound I’d rather forget. I shake my head to clear the haunting image in my head and start counting backward from ten.

When I get to one, the silence is there and I let out a sigh of relief. I don’t want to feel. I don’t need to feel, especially next to this complete stranger who is now staring out at the river, lost in thought.

I return my gaze out to the water and focus on counting again to drown out the sound of the water. And just as the silence stays consistent, I hear Landon speak.

“Allison?” His voice is low as he says my name. And it almost sounds like a question. Like he’s asking if I am the person he is here to collect.

My first instinct is to say yes. Because that is my name, but I am struck with the same thoughts as I had yesterday.

Who is Allison Evans? Because sitting here right now is not the girl I once knew. I may look like her, but I am the furthest from the girl I once was. Frankly, I’m not sure I even want to be her anymore because her fate is catastrophic and damaging.

Allison Evans doesn’t exist anymore. Here in her wake lies a broken shell of a human that is a ghost of her former self, who everyone else can somehow still see.

“Allie?” Landon asks.

I turn to look at him and find him already staring at me. Something flashes across his face and I can’t place it.

Taking a deep breath, I go to speak, but instead, just give him a simple nod.

I expect him to ask another question and brace myself to try to find the energy and will to speak. But he shocks me and stands up wordlessly. He keeps his distance and his blue, almost gray eyes lock with mine and he nods towards the car.

I am grateful for his lack of words because I know the moment I see Logan again; I am going to be bombarded with tears and questions.

So I stand and follow him to the car. And as we drive down the winding highway, trees on one side and river on the other, we sit in silence, and I welcome it. Because this silence is different.

Completely and utterly different.

Chapter Two

Landon

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