Page 60 of They Are Mine

Just like him.

He’s not in a hurry, but he’s not wasting time either.

Efficient. Predictable. Easy to track.

His phone is in his hand, but he doesn’t text. Just glances at the screen, unlocks the truck, and slides in.

He doesn’t hesitate.

Engine on. Headlights cutting through the dimming light.

Time to go.

I give him three seconds.

Then, I pull out behind him.

And just like that? The hunt begins.

He takes a right and I follow.

Not too close. Not obvious.

Two cars between us, hands loose on the wheel, heart steady.

He’s not paying attention. His posture is relaxed. No tension in his shoulders. No glances in the mirror. No hesitation at stoplights.

He doesn’t feel me yet.

But he will.

Oh, he will.

Twenty minutes later, his speed drops.

I shift back, letting the distance widen, keeping myself just one more set of headlights in the crowd. Watching. Waiting.

Then his blinker flashes and he takes a slow turn into a gated lot.

I ease past, letting my gaze flick toward the sign at the parking space.

The glow of his headlights catches the words, illuminating them for a perfect, fleeting second.

And my lips part.

Oh.

Oh, I fucking knew it.

I called it.

Campus security.

Not a nightclub. Not some dimly lit dive bar where he’d have to peel drunk girls off of him, wading through sweat and spilled liquor every night.

No.

A college.

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