Page 7 of Dream Girl
My heart stopped, and my free hand clenched. I’d heard that before. My stomach churned. “Maybe she’s been raised equalist.”
As in those who thought designations shouldn’t exist and were just fabrications to help keep the masses down.
“Maybe. However, she said that once she knew an alpha, but everyone told her that she imagined him,” she told me. “Wes, she said his name wasFade. She smells ofpeaches.”
“Don’t fuck with me, Lexi.” I hit my desk with my fist, stomach churning. No one had called me that in a very long time.
“I’m not. She looks an awful lot like the girl in your sketchbooks. Your dream girl from when we were kids,” she breathed.
My jaw gritted. “Grace Ellington doesn’t exist. Neither did where she said she came from. We looked and looked and never found her.”
We’d looked for herhard.I’d hacked databases. Lexi had poked around. Nothing.
“Just come down–”
“No.” It was so sharp it was almost an alpha bark. “While I feel sorry for this young woman, she’s not my Grace, becauseshe doesn’t exist.I have to go.” I hung up and put my head in my hands.
Grace Ellington had nearly destroyed me. Only Evan and the military saved me. There was no way my heart could take that again.
Because the girl I’d been in love with, my soulmate, was only a dream.
Chapter Three
Grace
The idea that I’d somehow wound up physically in another world, was ludicrous. It was something from fantasy novels and theoretical equations.
Yet what other explanation was there, other than my brain was so scrambled by the concussion that I was hearing and seeing things not quite right?
They also couldn’t find me. Even if I were in another state, or Canada, shouldn’t someone be able to find me in some database without me having an ID?
So many things here weren’t quite right. It was as if I were in one of those movies where they’d shifted into another, slightly different version of their world.
“I’ll take her to the Center in Midtown, considering I know everyone there and they have the most resources,” Detective Lawson said, voice drifting through the open door.
“Hopefully, they can help her,” the sergeant agreed.
At least, I thought it was him.
Detective Lawson came in, highlighted dark blonde hair in a smart bob, face kind andalmostfamiliar. She wore a blue suit, not a uniform, and had a cute red tote-purse. Her scent was light, and crisp. She wasn’t large like the other officers, however, she was much taller than me.
Okay, pretty much everyone was.
She smiled. “Are you ready to get out of here?”
“Please. You found my home? I want my bed.” I stood, my very soul weary and ready for this to be over.
“We’re going to get you looked over. They’ll take care of you and figure out who you are so we can get you home. I’ll go back to the station and try to find out who’s chasing you,” she replied.
“Thanks.” At least they all believed me. This could have beenbad.
I followed her through the station to an unmarked car. We started driving, and again, I looked out the window hoping I’d see something familiar. Anything.
We went to an unfamiliar drive-thru and got burgers and fries that still didn’t taste right. Wherever I was, it was pretty, and clean--modern, but not so built up that there was no space.
Finally, we approached a building that looked like a hospital, one surrounded by other buildings–and a giant fence.
My chest seized. Of course they would. How could I have been so naïve?
