Page 163 of Hunting Pretty

With a genuinely regretful shrug of his shoulders, he said in a voice I hardly recognized, “If only you’d stopped digging.”

I shoved at Dr. Vale and ran.

He caught my wrist, which spun me around back into his arms. I screamed, thrashing against his arms, but he was deceptively strong.

Stronger than I imagined he would be.

“Calm down, Ava,” he breathed against my ear. “Or you’ll hurt yourself.”

“Fuck you!” I elbowed his ribs as hard as I could.

With a pained grunt, he released me, clutching at his side.

I darted toward the door, blood rushing in my ears.

I turned the knob only to find it locked. No! I tried again, jangling and kicking at the door.

But it wouldn’t budge.

I smelled something familiarly pungent. I glanced over my shoulder, terrified of what I would find.

Dr. Vale stood by his desk, carefully pouring a liquid from a glass bottle onto a red rag. He wrapped his cashmere scarf over his mouth and nose.

“Poor Ava,” he said, looking across the office at me. “I’m afraid you’re having a psychotic break.”

The door was locked. The windows opened out to a second-story drop.

Fuck. I was trapped.

I fumbled with my phone, with the recording app. If I was going to die, at least I could send proof of Dr. Vale’s treachery to Scáth.

“Come here, my dear,” Dr. Vale said as he strode toward me, his voice muffled by his scarf. “This will calm you down.”

I pressed up against the door as I hit Send, praying that he’d find a way to make Dr. Vale pay.

“Get away from me.”

I watched him with the eyes of a cornered animal. My breathing was ragged and harsh in my own ears.

I glanced around for a weapon. But there was nothing in reach. All of Dr. Vale’s antique medical instruments were on the bookshelf literally on the other side of the room.

Maybe if I feigned and got past him, I could grab the bone saw.

I dropped my bag—everything in there was useless at this moment—and stayed on my toes. Waiting for my moment.

Waiting for him to get close enough.

Now!

I feigned left and pushed off to the right, trying to run past him.

He caught me by the midsection and shoved me back against the door.

I screamed for help, but my cry was cut off by the soaked rag.

Dr. Vale pressed it against my mouth, my lip cutting painfully on my teeth as I tried to push his hand away.

I tried to scream. I tried to fight.

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