Page 115 of Hunting Pretty

And that scared me more than anything.

“I grew up in a house like this too,” his voice rumbled softly, sending a shiver down my spine as it cut through the stillness. His arm tightened slightly around me, as if the memory was something he could hold in place. “Large, cold, and empty.”

I hesitated, glancing around the room, taking in the grand, polished walls and elegant furnishings.

“At least it’s… pretty,” I whispered, my voice sounding hollow, even to me. “I mean, this place… it’s beautiful.”

He let out a quiet scoff, his breath warm against my neck. “A pretty house doesn’t make it a home.”

I swallowed, feeling the weight of his words settle over me, and I instinctively pulled the blankets tighter around myself.

“A house isn’t a home without love in it,” he continued, his voice softer now, but no less intense. “Without laughter. Without… family.”

There was a bitterness to his tone, a sadness that tugged at something deep inside me.

My chest tightened at his words, and I couldn’t help but think of all the times I wandered through the empty halls of my own house, the silence pressing in on me from every direction.

“You’re right,” I admitted quietly. “All the beauty in the world doesn’t mean anything if it’s… just empty.”

The warmth from him and the hot water bottle and the numbing effect of the pills combined to make me feel like I was sinking into the bed. Was I even still awake? This couldn’t be real, could it? Having an intimate chat in my bed with my stalker?

“My father was a single parent as well, always busy with work too,” he continued, his voice quieter now, as if admitting it out loud made it more real.

I opened my mouth, ready to defend Ebony, to tell him that she wasn’t like his father. That she had done her best, always working to give me a life most people could only dream of.

But something stopped me.

Maybe it was the way he spoke, or maybe it was theundeniable truth in the silence between us. For some strange reason, I didn’t feel the need to lie to him.

He saw everything. Knew everything. What was the point of hiding?

“And now?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper. “Do you still feel… alone?”

He hesitated, inhaling a long, deep breath against my hair that sent tingles across my spine.

“I feel… like a ghost,” he said, and the weight of those words sank deep into my chest. “Like I died a long time ago. And I’m not really living anymore.”

“Yeah,” I murmured, understanding in a way I wished I didn’t. The familiar ache of isolation settled in me. “Like you’re just drifting, watching everything from the outside.”

I snuggled up closer to him. What did it say about me that I felt closer to my stalker than anyone ever? What did it say about me that I felt like he was the only one who understood me?

And for the first time he was being open with me.

I shifted slightly, gathering the courage to ask the question that had been gnawing at the back of my mind.

My voice was soft, barely above a whisper. “Why did you… hurt Cormac? Was it really to protect me?”

His arm tensed around me, his body stiffening for just a second before he let out a slow breath.

“Yes,” he said, his tone firm, as if the answer was simple to him. “He threatened you. He put his hands on you. And I couldn’t let that stand.”

He turned my face toward him with his palm on my cheek, his penetrating eyes meeting mine. “I didn’t plan it, Ava. I reacted. But I don’t regret it.”

I searched his face, my heart racing. “But why? Why go that far?”

He tilted his head slightly, his gaze unwavering. “Because you deserve to be protected. No one gets to hurt you, not while I’m around.”

His voice softened, though the intensity remained. “I know it’s hard for you to understand, but I won’t wait for the system to protect you, because the system doesn’t care.Ido.”

---