Pretty Hate (New Adult Novel) by Ava Ayers Page A

of.”
    “So do I. I think I proved my point. Where’s this different man taking you?”
    “Glade Creek,” I said.
    “Oh, smart move, Beth. Let a guy you don’t know take you out into the middle of the woods.”
    “I know him,” I said and sipped my beer.
    “Shit. The only thing you know is...shit. What does the serial killer do for work?”
    “He’s a writer,” I said and giggled.
    “Broke ass!” Ivory-Lou said and drank his beer. “We’re not gonna be home tomorrow so I’ll have to wait ‘til Monday morning to send the cadaver dogs to find your body.”
    “Shut up! We connected, he and I. He doesn’t want to kill me. I think he wants to love me.”
    “Love you ? Fuck you, maybe. Look,” he said and pointed at me, “I know you’re gonna have this asshole back to the house tomorrow night. Do not let him walk around by himself! I am telling you, Beth, if your broke-ass writer friend steals so much as a plastic fork from my house, it’s coming out of your ass. Understand?”
    “Whatever,” I said and drank my beer as I glanced at the television. “Oh my God, are you watching Uncle Buck ?”
    “I don’t know. I just ran across it,” he said and finished his beer.
    “Like hell! It’s paused and the DVD player is on. It’s the DVD! You’re actually watching Uncle Buck .”
    “Listen, you best save your CSI skills to help you crawl out of the woods after your serial killer tries to cut your kidneys out of your back. Now, get your sassing ass to bed.”
    The next morning I waited for Nicolas at the end of Ivory Lou’s driveway because three of the girls were late and they were all still in the house. I looked up at the house and Ivory Lou, Rebel Love and sixteen hookers were lined up with their faces pressed against the window.
    The drive out to Glade Creek was amazing. Nicolas pointed out rock formations and trees and showed me things in the landscape that I never saw before, despite living there all my life.
    Nicolas and I talked about music and art and politics. For the first time in my life I felt like I didn’t have to dumb myself down to be accepted during a conversation. I felt like I could be myself. Almost.
    We stopped at a small grocery store outside the entrance to Babcock State Park and bought some food. When Nicolas said he didn’t eat meat, I flung the sliced turkey out of the cart while he looked at the beer.
    “Looks like we have a choice between cans or cans,” he said.
    “Cans are fine,” I said and smiled.
    We pushed the little cart up the little aisles and made jokes about the large jars of pickled eggs suspended in blood broth and the moose jerky. He put his arm around my waist and kissed the top of my head in the checkout line.
    When we got to the entrance to the grist mill, he threw everything into a cooler, grabbed a big blanket and we set out through the woods on our first adventure. We watched the mill churn as he told me about different rocks and fish we saw in the streambed. I walked around taking pictures for the first time in almost six months and I felt alive.
    He found a secluded spot to have a beer and he spread the blanket out on a bed of fall leaves.
    “That’s such a cool camera,” he said as I knelt on the ground and loaded my second roll of film. “Must be pretty special to you.”
    “It is. I’ve had it all my life.”
    “I’d love to see some of your work,” he said and walked toward me.
    “I don’t have any work. I just fool around with it.”
    “Don’t discount anything you do. Come here.”
    Nicolas pulled me off the ground and kissed me. I threw my arms around his neck and pressed my body against his.
    “You’re so beautiful, Beth,” he said as he brushed his lips against my ear. “I’m going to miss you.”
    “So am I. I can’t believe I just found you and now you have to leave.”
    “Absence makes the heart grow fonder,” he said and smiled. “I totally believe that.”
    I looked at him and took a deep breath.
    “I want to