Page 126 of Hunting Pretty

From his pocket he pulled something out. A blade flipped out and glinted despite the dark.

“You shouldn’t have gone digging.”

He had been sent to kill me.

AVA

In the distance, just beyond Pierre’s shoulder, I could see the gates—twisting iron vines curling around the bars, delicate copper leaves catching the faint light.

They felt like salvation. If I could just reach them, I’d be free.

Beyond those gates, Paris waited, the city of lights, buzzing with life.

I just needed to make it there, and I’d escape this nightmare.

My hand shot to my bag, fingers trembling as they wrapped around the cold grip of my taser.

With a quick flick, I pulled the taser out and without hesitation, I pressed it into his side.

A sharpclicksounded, followed by the jarring crackle of electricity.

His body jerked violently, muscles seizing as the taser sent volts surging through him. He let out a guttural groan, eyes wide in shock, before collapsing to the ground, twitching.

I didn’t wait. My body moved on instinct.

I bolted toward the gates, weaving around him, yelping as his arms flailed out to grab my legs as I passed.

His hand smacked on my ankle and I tripped, catching myself just in time.

I didn’t stop. I didn’t look back. I ran.

My legs burned with each frantic step, heart racing in time with the pounding of my feet against the cobblestones. I could hear the blood rushing in my ears, drowning out everything but the sound of my breathing and the clanging of the gates ahead.

But I heard him stir behind me, his groan cutting through the night. The scrape of shoes on the pavement followed—a sound too close, too urgent. He was back up, and he was coming after me.

He swore, his voice bellowing behind me. “Come back, bitch.”

My pulse spiked with fear.

I pushed harder, sprinting toward the iron gates, my fingers already itching to push them open.

But his footsteps were getting louder, faster. He was gaining on me. The sound of his breathing, heavy and labored, filled the air as he closed the distance. I couldn’t let him catch me—not now.

My heart raced and my mind was a mess of panic, but I was coherent enough to know that this one chance was my only chance.

If Pierre caught me, he would kill me. That’s what he’d been sent to Paris, to that bar for—to kill me.

Tears pricked my eyes as I closed the final distance to the gates.Please. Just a little farther.

I could hear the noise of late-night traffic over my erratic breathing. Through the bars, I could just make out a stack of patio chairs beneath an awning strung with lights across the roundabout.

Out there were people. Beyond the gates was help. He couldn’t kill me with an audience.

I lunged for the large metal handle of the gate with a sob of relief and wrenched it down.

But nothing gave.

I tried again. Panic spiked my heart rate, adrenaline making my fingers shake as I yanked at the handle. “No, no, no.”

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