Catching Pretty (Lovely Broken Doll #2)

22. Ava

AVA

A fter I came out of the bathroom, Ty was gone. The room felt colder without him in it, an unsettling emptiness lingering in the air.

I crossed to the door, testing the handle, but of course it was still locked.

“Hello?” I called, frustration spilling out. “Ty?”

No answer. Just silence. Not even the crackle of speakers.

A cool draft tousled my hair, causing me to spin on my heel, eyes darting around. That’s when I noticed something off about one of the ornate wall panels.

I stepped closer, and another waft of cold air brushed my skin, prickling goosebumps up my arm.

The panel was slightly ajar. It was a secret door.

My heart raced at the discovery.

So that’s how Ty always managed to slip into my room at night. Even when the professor locked me in as punishment, Ty always found a way in .

I grabbed the edge of the panel and swung it open like a door.

Behind it, a narrow, dim passageway stretched ahead, the air thick with the smell of damp and musty old wood.

My breath hitched as I peered inside. Thin streams of light filtered through ornate vents high above, just enough to reveal a few meters ahead.

Secret passageways . I’d heard that old mansions like this had them, narrow tunnels between the walls so the staff could move unseen. Some of them might even lead to a secret way out.

Goosebumps rippled over my skin as I stepped inside, feeling the icy draft wrap around me.

With my fingertips, I traced the rough walls as I moved forward. Each step took me closer to whatever twisted game Ty had planned for me.

My heart thundered in my chest, my breath loud and harsh in the confined space. Claustrophobia tightened around me like a vise, the walls pressing closer as the air became even colder.

Then, up ahead, I saw it. Light.

I stumbled forward, pushing open the panel, and to my surprise, it opened into the grand ballroom of Blackthorn Hall that took my breath away.

Gleaming ornate gold designs curved along the dark walls and the arched ceilings. Crystal chandeliers hung overhead, dripping with gold and casting fractured light across the room.

The dark wood floors stretched on forever, polished to the point that I could almost see my reflection—faint, ghostlike. The reflection of me from long ago as a memory fragment hit me.

Ty led me around the ballroom, his hand warm around mine, guiding me as if he belonged to this grand, golden room.

I caught my breath as I took it all in, the massive chandelier casting a warm glow over the dark polished floors and the shimmering walls.

It was the most beautiful room I’d ever seen, like something out of a fairy tale.

I felt out of place in my plain dress and bare feet.

Ty turned, his gaze finding mine as he smiled, that soft, steady smile that always managed to calm me.

“Dance with me,” he murmured, his voice deep and warm, a teasing glint in his eyes.

“But… I don’t know how,” I managed, a bit lost for words, barely noticing as his hands slid to my waist, pulling me closer.

“Just let me…”

My heart raced, and I looked up at him, not sure what to say or feel.

He was so gentle, his touch respectful as he moved us around the room, as though he were handling something precious.

Images of Ciaran flashed through my thoughts—his intense, sharp-eyed gaze, the way his presence filled a room, reckless and challenging.

The thought startled me, guilt prickling at my skin as I tried to push it away.

I wished it was Ciaran here holding me instead.

I blinked and I was back in the present, back in the Blackthorn ballroom.

The vast space had been altered—turned into a makeshift gym, weights and mats lined up on one side .

There were a few machines I vaguely recognized from the sporadic health kicks Lisa and I hopped on (and off)—a treadmill, a punching bag, medicine balls, yoga mats, and God knows what other torture devices.

The grandeur of it clashed violently with the raw, utilitarian setup.

“Do you remember what I told you?” Ty’s voice startled me.

I whipped around and saw him leaning casually against the ropes of a boxing ring I hadn’t noticed before.

He was watching me, his gaze heavy with the same intensity that always made my stomach twist in a mix of fear and… something else.

“You said a lot of things,” I replied, forcing nonchalance as I stepped slowly toward him, my eyes scanning the once lavish ballroom.

I remembered this place. I remembered hiding behind the velvet curtains, watching the professor’s guests in their fine clothes as they danced and laughed.

My eyes flicked to the towering glass door stretching from floor to ceiling that led out to a wraparound stone balcony.

They were all barred. And locked, I bet.

No way out. Still no escape.

Ty had swapped his usual black button-up shirt for a tight black tank. It revealed his tattoos, their vivid black color made his untouched skin look like marble. With black tape around his wrists, black pants, and a black mat in the ring, his blue eyes flashed like sapphires.

“You’re strong, Ava,” he said, the same words he’d whispered to me last night as I fell asleep taking root in the corners of my heart. “You just need someone to show you.”

I paused halfway to the ring and crossed my arms over my chest, fighting back a shiver.

“Come here,” he said.

I ran my tongue along my teeth, hesitating. Strong? I felt anything but. My legs shook beneath me, my pulse refusing to settle.

“Don’t make me come get you,” Ty said in the same calm voice, but it was clear it was a threat.

I had a feeling that this Ty didn’t bluff.

Setting my jaw, I stepped forward and stopped at the edge of the raised ring.

He leaned over the ropes and his hands encircled my waist, lifting me from the floor like I weighed nothing. He placed me on the edge of the platform with nothing but the ropes between us.

For a moment, we stood toe to toe, his fingers gripping my waist, the warmth of his breath brushing my forehead.

The icy exterior of his mask seemed to dissolve, his gaze flickering with an intensity that seared through me.

It was too much—too close.

My pulse quickened, my mind screaming for distance, yet my body betrayed me, drawn in by the heat between us.

I wasn’t supposed to be looking at him like this, as though I wanted his lips on mine.

I tore my eyes away from his, my gaze catching on the ink across his firm upper chest, a raven with wings outstretched across his collarbone as though ready to take flight. Its mechanical heart was exposed, gears and cogs spilling out as if being torn apart .

My fingers twitched with the urge to touch the ink, to trace the lines, but I held back.

Ty lifted the rope, his eyes cold and fixed on mine, waiting.

I ducked beneath, the weight of his gaze as heavy as chains.

“Your clothes are in the corner,” he said.

I found a pile with a sports bra, gym shorts, socks, and shoes, all in black. All in my size.

“Where do I change?” I asked.

Ty stood in the corner opposite me, adjusting the straps on his wrists. He lifted his eyes to me.

“This is no time to become modest, Ava.” His eyes flashed with something hungry. “It’s not like I haven’t seen it all before.”

I repressed the urge to sarcastically remind him that he’d only seen me naked because he drugged me and stripped me.

I gritted my teeth, grabbed the hem of my night slip, and pulled it off over my head.

Naked again before Ty except for a simple pair of black panties, I shivered under his dark gaze.

Heat flooded my cheeks, and I hated it. Hated how aware I was of his attention, how my skin burned under his gaze. Hated how I rushed to pull on the workout clothes, hated the flush of heat that rose in his presence.

When I’d fully dressed, I took my time braiding my hair back off my face. Delaying the inevitable.

When I finally turned around, Ty stepped toward me, another set of straps in hand. He unrolled them with slow precision, his eyes never leaving mine, a silent promise hanging between us.

Without a word, he wrapped my wrists, every brush of his fingers against my skin sending shivers across my body. A wetness trickled into my panties and my hardened nipples poked against my sports bra.

There was no hope in thinking he didn’t notice. Nothing escaped him.

I stared at the mat and tried to get my breathing back under control as Ty finished and stepped away.

“Attack me,” he said as he faced me from the center of the ring.

I laughed weakly.

“You’ve attacked me before,” he said.

“I ended up on the floor,” I reminded him.

“You’re going to learn not to end up on the floor. Now attack me.”

I walked up to him and made a lame effort of pushing my fist into his chest.

Ty shoved me back. I slammed back onto the mat so hard it stole the air from my lungs.

“What was that for?” I asked angrily when I could finally breathe.

“That was for not taking this seriously,” he said.

I propped myself up on my elbows, chest heaving. “And what exactly is ‘this’?”

Ty’s face darkened at the sarcastic tone of my voice. He glared at me as an ominous silence descended over the ballroom.

“Get up. ”

When he growled in that low voice, everything in me wanted to obey.

The second I was on my feet, Ty advanced on me. Even before, in the bedroom, he hadn’t been fast like this.

He spun me around and crushed me to his chest. He grabbed a handful of my hair before I even had time to think of escaping.