Lost But Found | ✔️ - Chapter 17: Chapter 17

Don't Run
Jaxon
Ava Carter was running.
Again.
Jaxon watched as she disappeared into the crowd, her steps quick but controlled—like she wanted to escape, but not enough to make it obvious.
He exhaled, running a hand through his hair.
This was becoming a pattern.
Every time he got a little closer, every time he saw a flicker of something real behind those guarded green eyes, she shut him out.
And for some reason, he couldn't let it go.
Jaxon wasn't the type to chase people. He didn't need to. If someone wanted to walk away, he let them.
But with Ava?
It felt different.
Because she wasn't running from him.
She was running from something else.
And Jaxon had never been good at letting things go unsolved.
Instead of heading back to the party, he pushed through the front door, stepping into the cool night air. The noise from inside faded as he scanned the porch, already knowing she'd be out here.
And he was right.
Ava stood at the edge of the railing, her arms crossed, eyes locked on something in the distance.
She was so still. So quiet.
Jaxon approached carefully, stopping just close enough that she knew he was there.
"You always run when things get real, Carter?" he asked, keeping his tone light.
She didn't look at him. "Depends on what you call real."
Jaxon leaned against the railing beside her, watching her instead of whatever had her attention. "You tell me."
Ava exhaled slowly, her fingers gripping the wood. "It's just a dance, Jaxon."
He studied her profile—the sharp edge of her jaw, the way her lips pressed together like she was holding something in.
Maybe it was just a dance.
Or maybe it was something she didn't want to admit.
Jaxon stayed quiet for a moment before speaking again. "I know what it's like, you know."
That got her attention. She turned slightly, brow furrowed. "What?"
He shrugged. "Feeling like you have to keep everything locked up."
Ava's expression flickered—just for a second—before she looked away. "You don't know anything about me."
"I know you don't like small spaces," he said. "I know you know how to fight. I know you act like you don't care, but you do."
Ava's jaw clenched. "What's your point?"
"My point," Jaxon said, shifting so he was facing her fully, "is that you don't have to keep running."
Ava's grip on the railing tightened. "And why do you care?"
Jaxon hesitated.
Because he did care.
More than he should. More than he knew how to explain.
Before he could figure out how to say that without freaking her out, Ava beat him to it.
"I used to run when I was a kid," she said, her voice quieter than before.
Jaxon frowned. "Run?"
Ava exhaled, her gaze locked on the street below. "Whenever my dad got mad, I'd leave. Just... disappear for a few hours. Go anywhere that wasn't home."
Jaxon felt something tighten in his chest.
He hadn't expected her to tell him that.
Ava turned to him, her eyes unreadable. "So yeah, maybe I do run when things get real."
Jaxon didn't know what to say.
Because this wasn't just a wall cracking—this was her letting him in.
And that? That meant something.
Slowly, he nodded. "Okay."
Ava blinked. "Okay?"
Jaxon shrugged. "Yeah. I get it."
She searched his face like she was expecting something—pity, maybe, or judgment.
But he just looked at her, steady and unwavering.
Because he did get it.
Maybe not in the exact same way. Maybe not with the same scars.
But he knew what it was like to carry something you didn't talk about.
Ava looked away first, her fingers loosening slightly on the railing.
For once, she didn't run.
And Jaxon?
Jaxon decided he was going to make sure she never had to again.