Page 79 of Pretty Cruel Love

I don’t even know his name.

As I step into the parking lot, I spot a man creeping up behind the sexy stranger—both hands gripped around a steel bar, raised high and ready to strike.

Instinct takes over.

“Hey!” I scream, sprinting across the pavement before I can second-guess myself.

The attacker jerks around, startled, and swings the bar in my direction. I duck just in time, stumbling back—but it’s enough. The stranger seizes the moment. He snatches the weapon mid-air and slams the man to the ground in one swift, brutal move.

The attacker groans, blood pooling beneath him, but he doesn’t get back up.

Heart pounding, I stand there, breathless, adrenaline flooding my veins. I fumble for my phone, ready to dial 9-1-1...

But when I look up, the stranger is already facing me—eyes dark, jaw tight. And he’s glaring at me likeI’mthe one who crossed a line.

“What the fuck are you doing?” he snaps.

“He was about to attack you.”

“And?” His tone sharpens. “You should’ve let him try. I would've handled it much better. Trust me.”

“Okay, fine.” I take a step back. “Next time, I will. I’ll never help you again. Actually, I hope I never see you again.”

“Good.”

“Ugh.” I scoff and turn away, but he grabs my waist from behind and spins me around.

“Do you understand that he could’ve killed you?” His eyes blaze. “You look like you weigh, what, a hundred forty-five pounds soaking wet? He was easily three hundred.”

“This is a weird way to saythank you for saving my life.”

“Since you strike me as a psychopath, I figured you liked it.”

“I have feelings. That makes menota psychopath.”

“You’d be a sociopath if you didn’t. But you? Definitely a psychopath. I saw the signs long before now.”

“Hope you’re not planning to bill me for the time you spent diagnosing that, Doctor.”

He smirks. “What are you doing out so late anyway?”

“None of your business.”

“Tell me.”

“I’m not telling you a damn thing, you ungrateful asshole.”

His low laugh sends butterflies fluttering through my chest.

As much as I want to keep walking, I can’t. Being this close to him is arousing in a way I’ve never experienced before. His laugh makes it worse.

“Thank you for saving my life, Miss…?”

“Pretty,” I say. “Sadie Pretty. And you’re very fucking welcome, Mr…?”

“Weiss.” He steps closer. “Ethan Weiss. Can I buy you a ‘thank you’ dinner?”

“I would like that.”

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