Chapter 4

CHAPTER FOUR

Amanda skidded around the corner. Her apartment building stood less than a block away. She crossed the street and slowed to a walk, hand pressed to the stitch in her side, her heart racing. She looked up at the third-floor window above the door. No light. Was Gina home and in bed already? Unlikely. Her roommate was a night owl, which meant she probably wasn't home.

Inside the breezeway, Amanda fumbled with her keys. Her hands trembled, and she couldn't get her fingers to cooperate. What if one of those guys followed her? She turned and peered through the window in the door at the sidewalk. Empty. She took a deep breath and slid her key into the lock.

In the lobby, she ensured the door locked behind her before trudging up two flights of stairs.

Stepping into her living room, she flicked on the overhead light and dropped her keys on the table near the door. Her apartment looked just like it had when she'd left for work earlier. Two sofas—secondhand, but decent—sat catty-corner to each other, one facing the TV, the other facing the bay window that looked out over the street. The space was tidy, the throw blankets they kept for cold New England nights folded and draped across the sofa backs, as usual.

She removed her coat and toed off her shoes. She was used to being on her feet all night, but her work shoes weren't exactly suitable for jogging.

What had happened exactly? Had both of those men been following her, or was it a coincidence that they were behind her? Why had they fought?

She'd seen the smaller one around campus a few times, and he seemed harmless enough. The big one had been with a few regulars, but she'd never seen him before tonight. He was handsome, no doubt about that.

Was he the one who'd told her to run, or had it been the smaller one? She hadn't been able to tell in the darkness. Maybe the bigger one was following her, and the smaller one was protecting her. Maybe vice versa.

She sighed. Maybe what happened on the street had nothing to do with her. Maybe she was losing her mind.

She headed into the tiny kitchen and set her purse on the table. A note on the end of the counter read, Gone with Dean for the weekend. See you Monday night.

Monday was Veterans Day, and apparently Gina had decided to blow off Friday classes and start her long weekend early, which left Amanda alone in the apartment. Normally, she wouldn't care, but after tonight…

The more she thought about it, the less sure she was about anything. She'd felt threatened, and maybe she had been. But maybe she'd just been paranoid because of those two perverts at the bar earlier.

Whether she'd actually been threatened or not wasn't the point. She could have been. Her parents had been worried about her working so far from home after dark. She'd ignored their concerns, but they were right. It was time to find something closer to her apartment, something with better hours and less danger.

She'd call in the morning and quit. No job was worth risking her life for—no matter how good the money was.