And I thought my neighbourhood was bad.
Why the hell did he bring me here?
Chapter 50
Dwight
I’m sat at my desk, reading through the endless assignments that clutter up my inbox folder, going through each of them one by one. I rest my forehead in my palm, my arm propped up on my desk as I try to fight the need for sleep as it tries to drag me under. I blink my eyes, forcing myself to stay awake. I reach for the cup of coffee that lies beside me, and take a swig, only it’s stone cold.
I force myself to swallow it. There’s nothing worse than cold coffee.
I get up and leave my office, as head for the coffee machine in the staff room. Most of the professors are done for the day, so I’m one of the last ones here.
I work better in my office, free from the distractions I get at home, the number one culprit... Logan. I say I work better here, with the exception of today where I can’t seem to stay awake.
Once I’ve got my fresh steaming cup of coffee I head back to my office, where I find my phone buzzing on the desk. I pick it up to find Tori’s caller ID flashing up on the screen and a whole string of texts telling me to answer my phone.
“Tori, what is it?”
“Is Quinn with you?” The urgency in her voice has me worried.
“No, I thought she was meeting you.”
“We were supposed to meet like half an hour ago and she hasn’t showed. When I called earlier, she said she was only ten minutes away...”
My blood runs cold. Something is wrong, I can feel it. “Where are you now?”
“I’m in the parking lot in my car at the restaurant.”
“Come to campus, meet me by the fountain. Hurry.” I hang up and dial Quinn’s number. It rings and rings but there’s no answer, it just goes to voicemail.
Quinn never misses her calls.
Rogers.
I just know he has something to do with this.
I swipe my keys from the desk and grab my jacket as I hurry out of the door. On the way to the fountain, I try Quinn’s number and it once again goes voicemail.
“Fuck!” I run my hands through my hair. Just as I reach the fountain, I see Tori jogging towards me.
“What’s going on?” she asks.
“Quinn, she’s with him, I know it.”
“Him? Who’shim?”
“Martin Rogers, some guy who assaulted her a while back. He has her, I can feel it. What the fuck do I do?”
She could be anywhere, he could be doing god knows what to her this very second.
“Okay, just slow down and breathe, okay?”
Wait...
The tracker!
I open the app and click on Quinn’s number, it takes a few moments to process but I get a map on the screen, a small red dot telling me exactly where she is. She’s at least fifteen minutes away, ten if I break every speed limit and run every red light.
