Page 58 of Pregnant By A Rich Demon 3

Books. Get the books. Then go home.

The bookstore was on the other side of campus, a ten-minute walk across the quad.

I kept my head down, my purse clutched tight against my side, my eyes scanning the open space for anything—anyone—out of place.

The quad was quiet. A few students sat on benches, headphones in, textbooks open. A couple tossed a frisbee near the fountain.

Normal.

So why do I feel like I’m being hunted?

I picked up my pace.

The bookstore was blessedly empty when I arrived. I gave the clerk my name, and she disappeared into the back to retrieve my order.

While I waited, I pulled out my phone and checked the time.

3:47 PM.

I needed to get home. I needed to lock the doors. I needed to⁠—

“Here you go, Ms. Renois.”

The clerk returned with a stack of textbooks, and I signed for them quickly, shoving them into the tote bag I’d brought.

“Thank you.”

I was out the door before she could respond.

The walk back to the parking lot felt longer than it should have.

My legs were heavy, my breathing shallow, and every shadow felt like it was reaching for me.

You’re fine. You’re fine. Just get to the car.

I rounded the corner of the student services building and froze.

The black SUV was still there.

And this time, the driver’s side door was open.

A man stood beside it, leaning against the hood, his arms crossed over his chest.

He was tall—maybe 6’2”—with broad shoulders and a clean-shaven head. He wore dark jeans, a black T-shirt, and sunglasses that hid his eyes.

He wasn’t looking at me.

But I could feel his attention.

My heart dropped to my ass.

Move. Just move.

I forced my legs to carry me toward my car, my keys already in my hand, my thumb hovering over the unlock button.

The man didn’t move.

He just stood there, still as a statue, his head tilted slightly like he was listening to something.