AuroraCasper.
Shit.
Cole had taken it upon himself to change it in the system after my first week.
My uneasiness more than doubles, triples, quadruples, past the chart. Gulping, I hope my body is at least put in a decent position when they find me because I’m dead.
I’m frozen to my spot as my pulse pounds.
He’s watching me differently than before. Earlier, he’d been weird, sure, but this,thistakes it to the extreme. A mixture of spite and curiosity stares back.
He tracks my every move. “You said this was a gift?”
“A present.” I agree.
Why is he suddenly so calm? It makes him that much more eerie.
“Funny how,”—this isn’t funny at all. I’m not having any fun—“a benefit to you is a loss for me. That decal I showed you, yeah, that’smyemblem.”
What’s he talking about?
“Nonpermanent, of course, but I add them to any edition I own.”
He steps into me, and my neck cranes up.
“That book wasn’t for sale,” he spits. Phlegm flies from his mouth and hits me in the face as his hand wraps around my neck.
I don’t focus on what that means. I can’t do anything other than fixate on how my feet are leaving the ground. His grip doing the opposite of loosening.
My lashes dance, blinking past the spots in my vision.
He lifts me until I’m at his level. “I told your family years.” My head slams into the wall. “Years ago, thatthiscopy is not for sale, and you know what happened?” He snarls.
My eyes cross when I get a whiff of his nasty breath. It smells like expired onions.
“It was stolen from me.Me!” He reiterates with malice.
I hardly register any of this. Those spots taking up most of my vision now.
Just as I’m on the verge of losing consciousness, it happens. I couldn’t have prayed for better timing.
My phone rings. It’s scattered somewhere below my feet with all the other items that have fallen from my bag, but it’s ringing and it’s loud.
I’ve never been so grateful to hear the annoying-ass ringtone Hailey had given herself. Blaring, it echoes like a hallelujah inside the cramped room.
The noise gives me the split second of distraction I desperately need to escape. Before he has time to react, my knee is already rising, and I find the strength. Hitting him between the balls.
My feet drop to the floor almost instantly. My go-to move not once failing me thus far.
In my haste, I grab for the still ringing phone, my book bag, and the book. Then I’m out and running down the street as fast as my legs can carry me.
Never once do I look back.
I slow on a cough only when I reach the car. My throat sore and tender from his grip. The franticness of my sprint not helping my breathing either.
On a wheeze, I touch my neck and flinch. Definitely going to bruise if they haven’t already started to form.
Reaching inside my bag, I go to reach for my car key but come up empty. Widening the bag, my movements become more frantic. The singular source of light from the streetlight doing next to nothing.