“Kylie. Sweet Kylie, come into the car. You know you want to. I’m not gonna hurt you. Is that what you think?”
Shaking her head, she said, “I like walking. I’m good. You can go.”
He chuckled again. “You like my car?”
“It’s cool. It’s a Corvette—1982, right?”
“You’re prettyandsmart. You know cars.”
“I used to help my dad fix cars and bikes when he had his shop.” She walked while she spoke to him, keeping him in her sight with sidelong glances.
“I love motorcycles.”
“Do you have one?”
“Not yet. Do you?”
“No, but my dad promised to get me one once I graduate.”
“You a Harley girl?”
She stopped and turned to him, smiling broadly. “All the way.”
He licked his lips, and she saw her reflection in his sunglasses: small and distorted—like she were looking in a carnival mirror. He let out a long breath then said huskily, “What else do you do all the way?”
Her scalp prickled as clamminess rode the length of her spine. Swallowing hard, she said, “Please go. I don’t want to talk to you anymore.”
“Is that right?”
“Go.”
“What are you gonna do if I don’t?”
She picked up her speed, her stomach twisting in knots.
He sped up a little. “You’re so beautiful. I just want to get to know you. What’s the harm in that?”
Gulping air, she stumbled over the cracks in the parking lot, cursing the university for not having enough parking close to the dorms.
“I can see you’re tired. Your arms must be aching, carrying all your packages. I can drop you off.”
“Leave me alone,” she said breathlessly.
“You’re not afraid of me, are you?”
His soothing voice was scaring the shit out of her.How am I going to get away from him?Then she spotted the security vehicle in the distance, cruising through the parking lot. Kylie dropped her bags, raised her hand, and called out to the two security guards in the car, grateful they had their windows rolled down.
His head whipped to the right as if to see to whom she was gesturing. He turned to her. “You shouldn’t have done that, Kylie.” The hardness was back, slicing through her like a razor. “I’ll see you soon.” His car lurched forward as he sped away from her. She strained to see his license plate number so she could memorize it, but there wasn’t one.
“Can we help you, miss?” the security officer asked as his vehicle came beside her.
She nodded. “Some creep was bothering me. He was in the purple Corvette. Did you see him?”
Shaking his head, the officer turned to his partner and asked if he’d seen the sports car. He hadn’t either. “Did you get his plate number?”
“I looked, but he didn’t have any plates. At least not in the back.”
“Would you like an escort back to campus?”
