There, parked on the curb, is the motorcycle that’s been following me. I search the street but don’t see the rider.
Shit.
Should I go back inside and wait for him to leave? Do I make a run for it? But what if I run right into him? He could be anywhere. I cross the street to give myself as much distance from the bike as I can.
I have two options to get back to the house on campus, or I could hail a cab back home. I think of Val and sigh. She’ll be so mad if I bail.
“Okay,” I say to myself as I look down the street, which would be the direct route, or I could go through the alley and cut through the quad. It’s technically a shortcut, but way more secluded.
Less known too.
“Fuck it,” I turn to towards the alley and ignore my brain telling me how stupid I am.
I walk faster until I approach it and take in my surroundings. Nothing seems off, but I still feel like I’m being watched. I hitch up the heavy bag of groceries and take a deep breath.
I turn into the alley, and the sun is instantly blocked out by the buildings. The temperature drops, and the cooler breeze makes goose bumps pop up on my arms. I try to walk fast enough that it says I’m in a rush, but not so fast that it projects that I’m scared.
A movement in a dark corner makes me jump, and I almost fumble the groceries. When a cat runs by, I laugh at my reaction and relax slightly until I see the rat chasing it.
“AHHH!” I scream and jog for the quad exit.
I can see the sunlight ahead and slow down.
My heartbeat is so loud in my ears that if I’m not careful and catch my breath, I’m about to pass the fuck out. There are park benches in the grassy area of the quad. If I can get to one, I’ll be out in the open and safe to breathe normally again.
My vision dots as I huff and puff the last few feet.
I collapse on the bench and drop the bag on the ground, then I throw my head between my knees.
I snap my eyes closed and concentrate on the air coming and going from my lungs.
In, one, two, three.
Out, one, two, three.
I slowly sit up and look around. Everyone is in the holiday spirit. Decor is popping up all over the place, and the trees are tee-peed from the foolery last night.
Inspired, I pull out a sketch pad and start to draw what I see around me. It’s a habit I’ve developed to help me stay calm.
Mischief night sounds like fun in theory, but it’d be too easy to land your ass in jail. It would only take one prank gone wrong. But what a story you’d have to tell. I watch everyone moving around and get lost in my head.
So much so that I don’t notice the motorcycle parked down the street. Or the biker facing directly towards me. I stand quickly, grab my bag, clutch the papers to my chest, and make a dash for the sorority house doors.
Chapter
Seventeen
Mystery Biker
I’ve been followingher for days.
She’s yet to lead me to her father, but I know he’s close by. I can almost taste the sweet flavor of revenge when I take his precious daughter and force her to draw him out.
She’s become a dangerous infatuation I can’t risk keeping.
Once the other find out what I’ve been up to, I’ll have a lot to answer for. Not all of them will agree with my methods. Hell, I know what most of them will say.
I’m obsessed.
