It takes me several excruciating minutes to climb down from the truck. After I wave at Jason, he retreats and speeds in the opposite direction.
I watch him for a few seconds until he disappears around the corner.
Okay. I’m on my own now.
I mean, it shouldn’t be a problem. After all, I studied at this college for three years. It can’t possibly be that hard…right?
Even as I repeat the pep talk in my head, that gloomy cloud creeps into my brain, filling it with dark thoughts.
No one cares about you.
You’re nothing.
Absolutely nothing.
I briefly close my eyes and try my hardest to push those damning thoughts away. They won’t get the best of me.
Not today.
The moment I open my eyes, a black van retreats slowly from around the corner. The windows are tinted black, and there’s no way to see who’s inside.
My shoulder blades stiffen, and my nails dig into my bag’s strap. Are those the people Alex said watched me when I was admitted to the hospital?
The mafia.
How did they know where to find me? Did they follow us from home? Or maybe they were waiting for my return to college.
Sweat breaks out on my forehead as I remain frozen in place. I can’t move or think or come up with an escape plan. Like a deer caught in headlights, I remain there, lips parted and eyes wild.
Don’t stop. Don’t look back. If you survive, I survive.
A familiar voice whispers in my head, and it’s like a shot of adrenaline. Gripping my bag tight, I watch my surroundings looking for anyone. They can’t hurt me when there are people around. The mob’s rule is to leave no witnesses behind.
Wait. How do I know that?
Just when I’m about to make a run for the entrance—or rather, limp toward it—the van suddenly changes direction. The squeak of the tires echoes in the air as it speeds in the opposite way.
My shoulders droop, and I’m about to release a sigh of relief when a familiar Mustang revs toward me at supersonic speed.
Oh, come on. Asher is the last thing I need for my screwed-up mood.
On second thought, did the van leave because he approached? Not that I’d ever be grateful to him or let him know that.
I ignore him and hobble to the entrance. Since it’s still early in the morning, only a few people are scattered around. I wanted to come at this hour to take a small tour and get familiar with the building and the students.
Still, even with so few students, the back of my neck prickles with unwanted attention. I can’t help feeling like a bug being examined underneath a microscope. Every move I make is measured by onlookers, and I have no clue who they are.
Maybe coming back all alone wasn’t the best idea after all. As much as my initial interaction with Bree sucked, I should’ve probably tagged along with her on my first day here.
A strong arm circles my waist from behind. I’m about to struggle free when I feel the familiar coldness.
The freezing body.
Like ice in the middle of summer.
This close, the smell of his aftershave grips my senses in a tight, merciless grip. Sandalwood and citrus. Rich but cold. He smells of fresh laundry right out of the dryer, but also of the darkness of the night.
He’s an enigma that way, Asher.