Page 33 of Claiming Pretty

“Hey!” I yelled at the soon-to-be-dead man. “Touch her and die.”

The masked man shoved Ava to the floor before bolting for the open balcony door. In one swift motion, he climbed over the balustrade, vanishing into the night, leaving nothing behind but the acrid smell of cigarette smoke.

“Coward,” Ty spat, moving to the balcony in pursuit while I ran to Ava, sprawled on the floor, her chest heaving.

I wrapped my arms around her, lifting her gently onto the bed.

“Are you okay?” I asked, my voice shaking with the effort to steady it.

“I’m fine,” Ava replied, her voice shaky but resolute.

Lisa, her face pale and stricken, tried to cut the tension with a weak laugh. “Since when did you become a ninja?”

Ava managed a small, tight smile, but it didn’t reach her eyes.

Lisa was shaking so hard, she had to sit down on the corner of the bed.

“He’s gone,” Ty announced from the balcony, his voice cutting through the room like a blade. “Ran into the woods.”

I brushed Ava’s hair from her face, checking her arms for bruises, running my hands over limbs I’d already confirmed unbroken. The fear in me refused to let go.

“Are you hurting anywhere?” I asked. “Where did he hit you? Are you in shock?”

“She said she’s fine,” Ty snapped, his tone colder than the cool dusk air drifting in from the open balcony door.

Ava’s eyes darted to him, something unspoken passing between them. Her breathing slowed, but I could see the weight of what just happened settling over her like a heavy cloak.

“Describe him,” Ty said, his voice sharper now, commanding.

I shot him a glare over my shoulder.

“He was wearing a mask,” I said darkly. “What’s to describe?”

“I wasn’t talking to you, Ci,” Ty replied, his focus locked entirely on Ava.

Ava hesitated, her eyes shifting nervously between us. The air was taut with tension, like a bowstring ready to snap.

“Eye color,” Ty pressed. “Height, build, race, facial hair, distinguishing features, disfigurements, tattoos, odor.”

“Stop harassing her!” I snapped, the rage in my chest igniting again. “That was a hired fucking goon. Even if wecould identify him, he won’t know anything about the Sochai.”

“She’s not weak,” Ty said, ignoring me, his focus on Ava unwavering. “Ava?”

Ava’s lips trembled, tears welling in her eyes. “I-I…” she stammered, her voice breaking.

“Tell me what you remember,” Ty repeated, softer this time, but no less firm.

I clenched my fists, ready to break his fucking face, but then Ava spoke.

“Above average build,” she said, her voice low but steady. “Attacked with his left hand. Light-brown eyes. He wore a balaclava—cheap material, probably polyester. He smelled strongly of cigarette smoke. Something heavy like Marlboros or JPs.”

She slumped after that, her strength depleted, the light in her eyes dimming as exhaustion took over.

Ty’s lips twitched, just barely, his voice almost gentle as he said, “Good girl.”

She shivered at the words, and my glare burned holes into him.

Lisa’s mouth hung open, shock written all over her face as she glanced between the three of us, muttering, “What the actual fuck…”

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