Catching Pretty (Lovely Broken Doll #2)

29. Ava

AVA

I tied back my hair with a silky white ribbon, watching myself in the mirror, heart hammering in my chest. I was too excited. Too nervous. A, because I was finally going outside and B, because I was going to escape.

I almost couldn’t believe it when Ty promised to take me out into the garden.

I knew that this could be my best chance of escape, but I also knew the stakes. If I messed up, if Ty caught me, I wouldn’t get another.

I took a breath, trying to calm the rush of adrenaline coursing through me. I couldn’t afford to get sloppy.

The knock at the door sounded light, almost tentative, and a silly thought entered my head like if this were some other time, some other life, he would be knocking at my door to pick me up for a date.

I rushed to the door, my excitement momentarily stealing my breath as I opened it.

Ty stood there, his dark hair freshly washed, still a bit fluffy in the way it only got after a shower. His black sleeves were rolled up, exposing his forearms, and for a second, the color of his eyes—so shockingly blue—made me forget what I was supposed to be doing.

There was a faint pink blush dusting his cheeks, and something about the way he blinked at me, his gaze taking me in from head to toe, seemed almost… nervous. Almost shy.

I twirled, my lacy white dress flaring out around me, teasing him lightly. “Aren’t you going to tell me how pretty I look?”

He swallowed hard, his gaze serious as it lingered on me.

“Pretty doesn’t even begin to describe you,” he said quietly, the sincerity in his voice catching me off guard. “If the flowers in the garden saw you, they’d wither out of jealousy and bow their heads in shame."

A blush spread across my cheeks, unbidden. Damn it. I shouldn’t be reacting like this. I chastised myself, fighting the warmth rising in me. This wasn’t some fairy-tale date. I was supposed to be figuring out my escape plan, not flirting with my kidnapper.

But God, the way he looked at me…

“Shall we?” I forced a smile and stepped past him, already trying to map out my route, but my heart still thudded in my chest, torn between excitement for the garden—and something else I refused to acknowledge.

My heart thudded harder as Ty led me down the long hallway downstairs, his footsteps barely making a sound on the polished floor.

He stopped in front of what looked like a simple wood panel, flush with the rest of the wall.

I’d passed it dozens of times without giving it a second thought. But this time, he pressed his thumb to a small panel at waist height.

Huh, he must have this entire place rigged to open at his thumbprint.

So if I wanted to leave, he’d have to open the door.

Or, I thought with a wince, I’d have to cut off his thumb.

A quiet click echoed in the hallway, and the door fell ajar.

The anticipation coiled inside me like a spring.

It had been so long since I’d seen the sun, so long since I’d felt it on my skin. Weeks? Months? I couldn’t even tell anymore.

I stepped forward but Ty stepped in front of me, blocking the door.

“Rules,” he said, his voice steady but with a warning edge that made my heart tighten.

“Okay,” I replied slowly, trying to keep my voice even, even as guilt gnawed at me. I was already betraying him by thinking about escape.

“No wandering off. No tricks. No trying to escape.”

I nodded, feeling my pulse race.

“And…” I teased, “if I don’t play by your rules?”

He had me pinned up against the wall with his hand around my throat so fast that I didn’t have time to scream.

His breath seared my face as he leaned in close, eyes intense and unyielding. “Don’t test me, Ava. You won’t like me when I’m angry.”

The intensity in his gaze pinned me in place, a heat rolling through me that I couldn’t control.

My body betrayed me, trembling under his firm grip, and the worst part was all I wanted to do was melt into him .

Just as the tension thickened between us, he snatched his hand back as he straightened, leaving an aching emptiness where his touch had been.

He glared at me with a look that made my skin prickle. “Will you follow the rules, or do we turn back now?”

“No!” The word came out too fast. “No, please—I’ll play by your rules. I promise.”

The lie slipped from my lips as smoothly as a practiced line.

He studied me for a moment, and I forced a smile, hoping it would be enough to mask the chaos inside.

He finally stepped aside, letting me pass through the door, but the weight of his warning hung over me like a storm cloud.

I could feel his gaze on my back, sharp and knowing, and as I stepped out into the sun, I prayed that my plan, my escape, would be flawless. It had to be.

I had to shield my eyes from the sun; it was blinding after all the time spent in dim, windowless rooms.

When my eyes adjusted, my surroundings came into view. A beautiful, manicured garden sprawled before me, gravel paths weaving in and out of endless rows of rosebushes and meticulously trimmed hedges.

Memories crashed into me like a tidal wave—me picking out daises to weave into a crown, me lying on my stomach on a rug under that large oak tree and reading, Ty and Ciaran chasing me through this very garden when we were younger.

I gasped, stepping off the narrow side path that ran around the mansion and onto the soft grass, feeling the earth beneath my feet, solid and grounding .

My toes sank into the cool soil, and a groan of relief slipped from my lips as I tilted my head back, closing my eyes and letting the warmth bathe me.

I didn’t know how long I stood there, wriggling my toes in the dirt, letting the sun soak into every part of me.

But when I opened my eyes, Ty was watching me, an unreadable expression on his face—a look that made my stupid heart flip in my chest.

“What?” I sassed, crossing my arms and trying not to feel self-conscious. “Haven’t you ever seen someone enjoy the sun before?”

He nodded, his gaze intense, as though he was seeing something deeper in me. “It’s how I felt when I escaped prison.”

His words struck me, sympathy flooding my chest. Yesterday, he’d told me about his time in prison—about the hell he went through—and it confused me. I wasn’t supposed to relate to him, wasn’t supposed to feel sorry for my captor, to feel anything at all for him.

I shook the thoughts away, buried them deep down.

“So how did you escape?” I asked, hoping I could learn something from his story—something useful for my own freedom. “You never told me.”

A shadow passed over Ty’s face, darkening his features before he buried it beneath that practiced, cool mask. “With great sacrifice.”

Before I could push any further, he held out his elbow, his voice a low command. “Walk with me.”

As we walked through the dark hellebores, black tulips, and the crimson falling wisteria it became clear that the garden wasn’t just familiar, it was exactly as it was five years ago.

I paused on the path to lean into the dark-red, almost-black petals of a black pearl lily, its rich sweet fragrance filling my nose, grounding me in memories of a past I’d thought I’d lost.

“Ty,” I said, my voice betraying my disbelief, “I can’t believe you kept the garden this way.”

He stood close by, his hands in his pockets, just watching me. “It was a mess when I first arrived. It took a few months but…”

He shuffled his feet, his black boots sinking into the soft grass. “I thought you’d like it this way. That having it the same would make you feel… more at home.”

I frowned, studying his expression, which was as guarded as ever. “You put this garden back this way for me?”

He didn’t answer, only looked out over the garden.

“But,” I said, my breath coming out in a rush, “if you never intended to let me outside…”

A shrug. “You could still see it from the house.”

Ty was so confusing. Cold, stoic, and unreadable one moment, yet thoughtful in ways that pierced right through my defenses.

He was holding me captive, forcing me to relive memories I’d tried so hard to bury, yet somehow, at times, he seemed to care. Really care. Like I mattered to him too much.

Clearing my throat, I kept walking, pretending his words hadn’t shaken me.

“You can’t possibly maintain this all yourself?” I said.

“I don’t,” he replied as he walked beside me .

“So who does?”

Ty pursed his lips, hesitating like he was weighing something. “I have… gardeners come once a month.”

My heart stuttered. That’s why he bricked up my window. So when the gardeners came, they couldn’t see me screaming for help at my window.

Once a month .

If I could figure out when they came, maybe I could get a message to one of them. Maybe I could sneak out of my bedroom using the secret passageway and catch their attention through another window or I could leave them a message, an SOS, tucked into a rosebush or in the stone fountain.

Perhaps there was a way out of here—a chance.

Ty paused, his boots crunching the gravel as he came to a halt. He stared at something in the distance, a moment of quiet tension settling over him, before he turned back toward the house. “We should go back.”

My gaze drifted to where he’d been looking, and there it was—a fence, half-hidden by thick ivy at the edge of the garden. Beyond it, the world. Freedom.

My chest tightened with a sudden, almost desperate longing. Something inside me rebelled.

No. I couldn’t wait for once a month. I couldn’t stand another fucking week, another fucking day here.

All my plans for a well-thought-out escape disappeared. All I could see was that fence. My freedom, so close.

Before I could rethink my rash actions, I shoved him as hard as I could.

Perhaps Ty was caught unawares, because he actually fell forward, sprawling in the gravel like I had that day Ciaran had pushed me over.

For a moment I hesitated, caught between wanting to help him up and wanting to run.

He looked up, shock flaring in his eyes, and I felt a brief flicker of guilt—until I heard the feral growl tearing from his lips.

This wasn’t my best friend anymore. He was my fucking kidnapper. My enemy.

And this was my one chance.

Without another thought, I turned and sprinted toward the fence, my pulse thundering as I tore through the garden, my only focus on the ivy-covered boundary, the promise of freedom beyond.

“Ava!”

Ty’s voice thundered behind me, furious and unyielding, his footsteps pounding through the garden as he closed the distance.

I pushed myself harder, my bare feet searing with each step over sharp twigs and rocks. Pain flared up my legs, but I didn’t dare slow down. I wouldn’t stop.

My breath tore ragged from my lungs, my heartbeat a relentless drumbeat in my ears, but his footsteps grew louder, closer.

I felt him gaining ground, his presence like fire licking at my back. A sharp tug at my hair—his fingers catching in the ribbon, pulling it loose.

He was right behind me.

No, I wouldn’t let him catch me. I couldn’t.

I swerved left, darting down a narrower path, ducking under a canopy of dark-crimson wisteria. The hanging blooms brushed my face, cool and silken, but I didn’t have time to admire them.

I plunged forward, desperate, weaving through the maze of greenery.

Ty’s footsteps didn’t falter, echoing behind me, relentless as a predator on the hunt.

Up ahead I spotted the familiar greenhouse at the edge of the garden.

Even though a part of me screamed not to go in there, another part figured that this was my only chance at escape.

Out here in the gardens I was too exposed, too out in the open.

In the greenhouse I’d have a chance to hide, to slip past him.

I sprinted for it, my footsteps in time with those from my memories.

I slammed against the glass door, the entire lower level of the greenhouse covered as always with a dark curtain, and I grabbed for the handle.

Behind me, Ty’s voice shifted, panic creeping into his usually steady tone.

“No, Ava! Don’t go in there!”

I shoved open the creaky ivy-covered door, thanking God it was unlocked, and tumbled inside.

“Ava, stop!”

But I didn’t stop. His words only fueled the curiosity that had been bubbling inside me for months.

So I stepped farther in, my eyes adjusting to the dim light, taking in the strange shapes around me as the door shut behind me.

Inside, the air wrapped me in a thick, almost claustrophobic warmth, thick with the scent of something sweet yet sickly veiling the tang of damp earth.

Dense tendrils of climbing ivy crawled up the wrought-iron frames, casting faint shadows that danced in the dim light.

Rows upon rows of plants lined the room, each one arranged with unsettling precision—dark leaves, twisting vines, and flowers that bloomed in shades of deep violet, bloodred, and warning yellow. They seemed alive in a way that made my skin crawl, like they were watching, waiting.

Footsteps echoed from outside.

My heart dropped. Ty was coming.

Panic surged, propelling me down the nearest row as I darted left and right, searching frantically for another exit.

But all I saw was endless glass, closing me in. No other doors. Just the one I’d entered through—the one that was now swinging open.

I crouched low, ducking under thick green leaves. The quiet click of the door shutting made my blood run cold.

I was trapped in here with Ty. An angry Ty. “You don’t want to make me angry.”

I snatched a small dibbler sitting on the edge of a workbench, a gardening tool to make holes in the dirt for bulbs, its wooden shaft tapering down to a smooth metal tip, almost daggerlike.

It was barely a weapon. But it was all I had.

With it clutched in my hand, I crawled beneath a table crowded with potted plants.

From my hiding place I spotted across the row the unmistakable pink bloom of the Belladonna Lily.

“Belladonna Lilies. Aren’t they pretty, Ava? Just like you. ”

They were. So pretty. The prettiest pink in the world. Would they smell pretty?

I reached out to tug a flower closer so I could push my nose into it.

The professor’s strong hand grabbed my fingers, crushing them, making me cry out.

“Don’t touch.” His voice turned cruel and hard. “ Never touch.”

I sobbed as I clutched my hand to my chest.

It wasn’t just the pain. His fury shocked me. Scared me as he towered over me, the gray light filtering into the greenhouse silhouetting his face.

“It’s poisonous.”

I sucked in a gasp. This was the greenhouse from my memory. The professor had been the one who had taught me that Belladonna Lilies were poisonous.

The lilies that Scáth—Ciaran—used to leave me by my bedside.

A wave of sadness went through me. My Scáth. God, I missed him. I wonder whether he was still looking for me or whether he’d given me up for dead.

“Little hummingbird?” Ty’s voice called out, deceptively soft, almost singsong, only a few rows away.

I clasped my free hand over my mouth, willing myself to be still.

If I waited long enough, maybe he’d go deeper into the greenhouse, and I could slip out behind him.

But with every second, my breathing grew harder to control, and my heart pounded loud enough, it seemed, for him to hear from across the room.

There was a faint crunch as he stepped forward, leaves crumpling beneath his steady pace, each footfall shattering the thick, suffocating quiet.

Then… silence.

Time lost all meaning, slipping through my fingers like sand. Seconds stretched into minutes, maybe hours.

I crouched there, ears straining, every nerve on edge. Where the hell had he gone?

Even though I couldn’t see him, the hairs on the back of my neck stood on end. He was watching me. I could swear it.

My pulse thundered in my veins, each beat filling me with unbearable tension. I couldn’t stay here, hidden like prey. I needed to go. Now.

Crawling forward, I peered out from behind the heavy leaves into the silent greenhouse aisle.

Where had he—

A hand clamped around my ankle, yanking me back.