Page 50 of Hunting Pretty

My whole world had shrunk to the size of the mirror behind the bar. The only remaining sound was blood rushing in my ears.

In the reflection, at the back of the bar, stood not one, buttwoshadowy figures. Shoulder to shoulder. Matching black hoods. Identical sculpted faces and menacing steel-blue eyes.

I whipped around to face him. To face my stalker.

But there was just one man.

It must have been a trick of the mirror.

My stalker stared at me from across the bar, his glare penetrating through the crowd, intensity wafting off him in waves of burning heat.

Surely, he knew what I was doing here at the place he snatched Liath from. Surely, he knew I was asking questions about Liath’s disappearance, abouthisinvolvement in it.

There was no point in hiding it.

I willed myself to confront him. To demand to know what he did with Liath. To demand he bring her back.

We were in a crowded place. I was safe.

A shiver still ran through me at the intensity of his stare and the raw danger he exuded as I drove forward, ignoring every single cell inside me that screamed with alarm.

As I pushed through the crowd, weaving through revelers, his glare stayed firmly on me.

My heart raced faster with every step closer, pounding against my rib bones like it was trying to escape, a frantic, uncontrollable beat that made my chest tighten with every second.

This was it. I was going to confront him. I was seconds away from standing toe to toe with the man who took Liath.

A hand grabbing my elbow made me jump.

I tore my eyes away from his stare and turned to see Lisa, peering at me with concern. “Ava, where are you going?”

I turned back to my stalker.

But he was gone.

Disappeared like he was never really there.

I craned my neck, trying to peer through the crowd. “D-did you see him?”

Lisa frowned. “What? Who?”

I shook my head, unable to speak. How could I explain that the stalker who took Liath was now stalking me?

My phone buzzed in my bag, the noise of it swallowed up by the clink of glasses and echo of laughter.

I took it out and read the message, my blood running cold.

I knew without a doubt that this was fromhim.

Unknown number: Stop investigating. Or else…

AVA

As I sat in my Mercedes, idling outside the Byrne’s mansion, surrounded by a towering stone wall, all I could think about was my stalker’s threatening text.

Stop investigating. Or else…

Or else… what? Or else I’d regret it? Or he’d stop me?

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