least she wasn't actively trying to assault her. That had to be a good sign.
Besides, Jocelyn had to start somewhere, and it wasn't like she had to share her whole life story. She settled for a nod.
The pink-haired woman seemed to take the gesture as permission to press a little further. "You don't want to be here, do you?"
Of course she didn't. What woman would voluntarily be in the Boundarylands? Other than a well-paid prostitute, of course.
This woman, apparently. And since Jocelyn really didn't want to risk offending her, she simply nodded again.
"Is someone chasing you?"
Okay, no.
Jocelyn involuntarily shuffled backward, putting distance between them. That question was far too close to home. How the hell could she know?
It was one thing for a stranger to be able to tell that Jocelyn was in trouble, and didn't want to be surrounded by drunk alphas in the middle of the Boundarylands, but it was another to hit the bullseye in the center of the bad luck target.
A horrifying thought occurred to her. Did this woman somehow know about John? Could she be working for him? Until this morning, it had never occurred to Jocelyn to wonder what a professional killer looked like. Pink hair would certainly help her stay above suspicion.
The delicate threads of trust she'd begun weaving frayed, and she tensed, ready to run.
"No, wait, it's okay," the stranger said hastily. "Please, I won't come any closer. I only asked because I understand, it's how I came here too—running from someone who wanted to hurt me. But I can help. I can get you out of here."
Jocelyn hesitated. She didn't buy the stranger's story, at least not completely. How likely was it that two women would be chased into the Boundarylands?
But she had no other options. And this woman was offering her the one thing she couldn't refuse.
A way out.
"How?" Jocelyn asked, her voice a dry husk.
"I have a car—"
Oh, hell no. God only knew where she'd end up this time.
"I'm not getting in a car with you or anyone."
"That's fine." The woman held up her hands in surrender. "You can just take it. It's the blue two-seater around the corner. The keys are in the ignition."
Jocelyn narrowed her eyes in suspicion. Nothing was making sense. "People don't just give cars away for nothing."
"The omegas around here do," the woman replied. "Besides, I don't need it, and you do."
So that's what was so different about this woman—she was an omega. Jocelyn had never seen one—not in real life, not even in pictures. The drawings in her high school textbooks showed wan, cowering women with long scraggly hair, dressed in rags.
But this woman looked surprisingly normal, other than her hair and flashy clothes. She wasn't malnourished, and nothing about her appearance suggested she'd been beaten or mistreated. In fact, she seemed healthy and strong. She could be any stranger Jocelyn passed on the sidewalk without giving a second glance.
Well, except for that special, indescribable sparkle.
Jocelyn swallowed the urge to take the stranger up on her offer. Not only could she not pay the woman back for her kindness, but the omega's car would likely end up destroyed in vain.
"Thank you, I guess. But it won't do any good. The people I'm hiding from will be waiting on the other side of the boundary for me."
Up until this moment, Jocelyn hadn't acknowledged to herself that her problems went beyond just John. The other people who worked for him, men and women who rarely visited the office and never spoke to her, had just as much interest in preventing her from talking to the authorities.
They would never stop until she was silenced for good.
The omega chewed her lip thoughtfully for a moment before seeming to come to a conclusion.
"Okay," she said softly, a determined gleam in her eyes. "Here's what you're going to do. Get in the car. Turn left on the Center Road. Drive two-point-three miles exactly. Then turn right into the driveway."
Jocelyn blinked in bafflement. "What are you talking about?"
"Those are the directions to my house," the stranger said. "Around here, we help each other out."
"But—"
"I know it's hard, but I'm asking you to trust me." As if Jocelyn had a choice. "Take the drive another mile and a half, and you'll arrive at a house at the edge of a big clearing. The front door won't be locked, and you can let yourself in. Do you have all that?"
Yes…no...probably.
A left. Two point three miles. Then a right.
Jocelyn nodded, trying to make