Catching Pretty (Lovely Broken Doll #2)

14. Ava

AVA

T y lifted me from the couch and carried me back to my bedroom—to my prison.

Then he pulled me onto his lap on the bed and rocked me, his fingers brushing tenderly over my hair.

My breath hitched as Ty wiped away hot tears that poured down my cheeks, his hands steady against my trembling body.

My fingers twitched as control over my body slowly returned, and I curled into myself, into the fetal position, as if I could protect what little pieces of me were left.

Ty didn’t try to pull me out of it. He didn’t force me to move or unravel.

Instead, he cradled me in the hollow of his body. My cold feet pressed against his thighs, my knees wedged into his ribs, but he didn’t complain. He just held me.

I wanted to disappear. To let myself be swallowed by the darkness, to fall asleep and never wake up again.

“No.” My voice was a rasp, a sound barely recognizable as my own. It felt foreign, as if I’d forgotten how to use it. “ That never happened to me. They were… hallucinations. False memories. ”

Ty’s face seemed to crack open, as if his carefully constructed mask was fracturing under the weight of my words.

My throat constricted painfully around the words. “ You gave me fake memories.”

Hatred burned hot in my belly, and I clung to it like a lifeline. Better to hold on to anger, let it consume me with its fire, than to sink under the crushing icy weight of grief.

I hated Ty. He did this to me. He forced me to rip open wounds I’d rather have kept hidden.

Scáth would never have done this. Scáth would have let me run away, to keep these painful memories buried until I followed them into the ground.

He would have protected me. Kept me safe from my own past.

He would have run away with me. Run far away and kept running so my past would never catch up with me.

I missed Scáth. Missed his protection. Missed the way he stood between me and the darkness—even when that darkness was inside me.

If only I had listened to him sooner.

Ty stroked my hair gently, his breath shuddering, holding me to him even as I beat at his chest.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, the words slipping from his mouth like a confession, like a plea.

The dam inside me broke.

At first, just a tear or two slipped down my cheeks, but the flood quickly followed.

My back heaved with sobs, my breath catching painfully in my throat as I choked on the waves of grief and horror that threatened to pull me under.

“No,” I cried, my voice raw, broken. “ That never happened to me. ”

Ty lowered his head, resting his cheek against the crown of mine, and the warmth of that simple gesture made me cry even harder.

I shuddered violently in his arms, and he responded by tightening his grip around me, holding me together as my world crumbled apart.

Slowly, my sobs subsided, the tears drying up, leaving me empty and hollow. It was as if the pain had carved me out, leaving nothing but a brittle shell in its wake.

My chest ached, but not from crying—from the sheer exhaustion of feeling too much all at once. I didn’t know if I had anything left to give.

“So… we’re done, right?” My voice was flat, almost numb, as if the words were coming from someone else. “I remember now.”

But even as I said it, I knew it wasn’t entirely true. I remembered pieces of it. Fractured memories, like shards of glass slicing through my mind. Pieces that were enough to cut.

I didn’t need to remember more. I couldn’t.

Ty’s breath hitched, rough and ragged, like he was also suffocating under the weight of all this. He lowered his head, his eyes shadowed, and I could see the guilt behind them.

“Ava,” he whispered, his voice heavy with regret, “we’re only just beginning.”

No. I couldn’t handle remembering more. The thought of reliving the past clawed at my insides, panic rising like bile in my throat.

I shoved myself off Ty’s lap, my limbs sluggish and uncooperative from the drug. Every movement felt wrong, too slow, too heavy, but I forced myself to crawl clumsily across the bed.

My heart raced, each beat hammering in my chest like frantic drums as I stumbled toward the open door. Freedom. Escape. Just a few more steps.

But before I could slip through, Ty’s arm wrapped tightly around my waist, his grip unyielding.

In one swift motion, he reached past me and slammed the door shut, the sharp crack of wood and metal echoing in my ears.

I barely had time to gasp before my body was pinned between the solid door and his. My naked chest pressed hard against the cold surface, my breath caught as his weight caged me in.

Trapped.

“P-please… why are you doing this to me?” My voice cracked, the words barely escaping between my sobs.

I felt so small, so powerless, trapped in a nightmare that I couldn’t wake up from.

“Because Ava…” His voice faltered, sorrow leaking through every word, catching me off guard. “You are sick. He is buried inside you like a disease. And I am the only one who loves you enough to force you to get real treatment.”

“ Scáth loves me,” I cried out, my fingers sliding down the cold metal door, the words slipping from my lips like a prayer.

“No!” His raw voice exploded in my ear, his palm slamming against the door, sending vibrations through the metal, rattling it against my head. “ I love you.”

I flinched, the force of his words cutting through me, making my chest constrict.

Sick. Diseased. The words hit me like a punch to the gut. It felt like a poison creeping under my skin, spreading through me until it reached the darkest parts of my mind.

But they were more than just words. They were keys, unlocking something deep inside me.

My breath hitched, and a memory slammed into me with the force of a speeding train. It knocked the air from my lungs, leaving me gasping, as the floodgates of my mind opened wide and the past came roaring back.

I shoved open the campus doors and the glare of the sun was so intense I had to blink several times before I spotted him.

My bully had his hands stuffed deep into his pockets, his shoulders rounded forward. His uniform tie was loose around his untidy collar and the breeze which blew my hair into my face sent it fluttering wildly behind him.

“It was you ,” I accused him as I stormed up to him, my fists by my sides. “ You spread those nasty rumors about me.”

The sun backlit his head as I searched his face, masked in the silhouette, for any sort of remorse.

“Why?” I asked and hoped he didn’t hear how my voice cracked.

All at once, his casual facade dropped, and the cruelty beneath it surfaced, like Mr. Hyde clawing his way to the surface. His eyes darkened, his voice sharp as a blade.

“Because you’re diseased, Ava,” he hissed, his words venomous. “You’re sick.”

“No… it’s not true,” I whispered, my voice shaking .

“It is . I was the only one who saw it, but now they all know.”

He leaned closer, the space between us shrinking as his presence overwhelmed me.

My body screamed for action—run, fight, do something—but all I could do was stand there, frozen, staring up at him with wide, helpless eyes.

His thumb ran over my wet cheek, and I flinched. Not because it hurt, but because it was too soft, too gentle, and that somehow made it worse.

“Why else would you let him touch you?” His voice was hard, laced with bitterness. The accusation hung in the air, heavy and confusing.

I didn’t even know what he meant.

All I knew was that his thumb drifted lower, brushing across my lips.

My breath hitched, my lips parting on an unsteady inhale. The sensation was overwhelming, like being submerged in ice water and fire at the same time, and I couldn’t think past it.

The conflict inside me raged—fear, disgust, and something else, something terrifyingly close to desire.

Before I could stop myself, I was rising onto my tiptoes, instinctively chasing the feeling, desperate for more.

He shoved me away so swiftly and so violently that I barely realized I was falling until I felt the pain flare across my knees and hands.

I bit my lower lip to fight back the prickle of tears in my eyes as pebbles burrowed into my torn skin, hot with fresh blood, stinging terribly.

A tiny sob escaped as I tried to push myself up, thin arms shaking, only to collapse back down.

A pair of strong hands caught me .

“Leave her alone,” Ty said into my hair.

My bully just laughed at me, a cruel bitter sound, and slipped his hands back into his pockets just as casually as before.

Just before Ty pulled me into his arms, I glanced up at my bully.

My heart jammed in my throat to be met with those same pale-blue eyes.

The full memory of that day hit me like a freight train, slamming into my body. It was like someone had flipped a switch in my mind, lighting up the dark corners where I’d hidden the truth from myself.

Scáth didn’t have split personality.

No— they were twins.