Page 103 of Hunting Pretty

As always, his hair was a mess. His tie hung on his shoulders untied; his loafers were scuffed and muddied, and his Oxford shirt hung over the hands he had stuffed into his pockets. The dress code be damned along with everything and everyone.

He smirked at me as if only just noticing that I was there. “Oh, it’syoumaking all that noise.”

He turned his gaze back up to the ceiling as if to dismiss me.

“Look at me.” I jabbed his ribs. He was going to answer me, goddammit. “Why did you do it?”

He let out a sigh and glared down at me as if I were bothering him. “Do what?”

I shoved him with my free hand.

It didn’t even send him off-balance. He was made of stone, just like his heart.

“You told everyone that I have a contagious skin disease,” I said, feeling tears threaten again.

He smiled with cruel triumph. “Now they’ll leave you alone.”

A tear slipped and I swiped at it in frustration. “Why do you hate me so much?”

He had me up against the lockers so quickly I dropped my books. They scattered on the hallway floor, pages fluttering like frightened doves.

Heat burned in the depths of his eyes made so much more intense by the dark thick rim of long lashes.

“Is that what you think?” he whispered.

I glared up at him. “Why else would you—”

“What I feel for you…” He ran his nose up against my neck, making me shiver. “I guess it does burn like hate.”

I felt a sickening twist in my stomach. The boy who once shielded me, who stood by my side, turned against me.Why?

What could I have done to make him flip so completely? Why had he stopped being my friend?

The memories were hazy, slipping just out of reach, but the sting of betrayal lingered—like a wound I hadn’t known was there, reopening.

I stared at the closed jewelry box, but the twisted gift inside made my skin crawl.

I shuddered, wrapping my arms around myself as the realization settled in.

Was he threatening me? Or was this just another of his warped attempts to protect me, to keep me close?

My stomach churned at the thought, my mind trying to untangle the mess of it all.

And what if he wasn’t lying about Liath? He swore he didn’t take her.What if he’s telling the truth?

If he didn’t take her… then who did?

I clenched my fists, feeling the frustration build. I had no answers, only more questions.

Every time I thought I was close to figuring it out, the ground shifted beneath me again and nothing made sense anymore.

I didn’t know if I should run from him or trust him.

I could barely concentrate during classes that day. I kept going over my notes on the missing girls.

Liath Byrne.

Sarah Hickey.

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