Page 75 of Hunting Pretty

Or maybe I just didn’t want to see the truth.

I didn’t want to believehecould be so evil.

The man who made my body light up with electricity, who made me feel alive, who brought me to two earth-shattering orgasms.

I hated it. The way my heart skipped whenever I thought about him. The way I felt his presence even before I saw him, the way I couldn’t get him out of my mind.

It made no sense, and yet here I was, my pulse quickening at the thought of him. Every logical part of me screamed to stay away, to run, to remember all the ways he’d crossed lines no one should ever cross.

But there was something about him—something that made me feel alive, something dangerous that pulled me in, no matter how hard I tried to resist.

I couldn’t even fully admit it to myself, the truth hovering there just beneath the surface, waiting to be acknowledged.

But admitting it meant accepting that something was deeply wrong with me, that I liked the thrill of the danger, the attention.

But no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t shake it.

Ilikedhim.

I liked my stalker.

And that terrified me more than anything else.

AVA

Something Liath’s parents said bugged me. About Liath being adopted.

One evening after classes, I walked through the towering ancient wood and brass cabinets of the public records section in the basement of the Dublin Public Library.

The air smelled of old parchment and ink. The wood paneled ceiling soared above, curling wrought-iron stairs leading to skinny wooden ledges so that one could access the higher drawers.

What would I find here? What secrets about the Byrnes, about Liath—aboutme—might I discover?

My skin hummed with a mix of anticipation and dread, each nerve on edge. Fear twisted in my gut, but turning back wasn’t an option. I needed to know the truth, no matter what it cost me.

Maybe it was because I was adopted, too.

Maybe that’s why I felt even more tied to my missingfriend, that I justhadto find out the truth, that somehow her fate and mine were inextricably tied.

Or maybe deep down I thought that perhaps if I could uncover Liath’s dark secrets, it would help me uncover my own.

Whatever the reason, I couldn’t let it go.

I couldn’t turn back.

Not even with my stalker’s threats weighing on me.

Ihadto keep digging.

I peered through the aisles, my fingertips brushing the grainy wood, the low lighting cast off from the ornate Victorian wall scones and hanging iron chandeliers, listening out for the creak of footsteps on the old wooden flooring.

I was in a public space. Surely, he wouldn’t be able to get to me here.

Ireland only transferred to a digital system recently and hadn’t gotten around to digitizing past records. So it was a slough pouring through all those manual records, pulling out drawer after drawer, thumbing through file after dusty file filled with loose pages of faded old records.

First, I found her official name change certificate before she became a Byrne, her name barely legible thanks to the faded ink over time.

Liath Daugherty.

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