Chapter 8

CHAPTER EIGHT

Amanda watched Mark exit the sandwich stop and run across the street. He paused, looked in both directions along the sidewalk, and jogged away, disappearing from view.

Strange how quickly he'd left.

Sherri tapped her shoulder. She turned and saw her friend holding out a napkin.

Amanda took it. "What's this for?"

"You have some drool on your chin."

Amanda balled up the napkin and threw it at her. "Very funny."

Sherri made a show of wiping her own chin, then slid into the chair across from her. "So? Tell me everything."

Carl rolled his eyes, sitting beside Amanda.

Sherri and Carl. Two of her closest friends. Sherri's reaction she could've predicted, but Carl looked annoyed, his lips pressed closed, his brows drawn together.

"It started last night." Amanda told them the whole story, beginning with the two perverts in the bar and ending with lunch.

"So Mark rescued you?" Sherri said. "How romantic."

"Right," Carl said, "and then he tracked you down like a stalker. How do you know you can trust this guy?"

Amanda picked up the butterfly knife—nice name for something so terrifying. She opened it and ran her finger along the flat edge of the blade. "He brought me this. He seems trustworthy."

"Seems trustworthy?" Carl repeated. "Wouldn't it be great if serial killers wore club T-shirts so we could pick them out of a crowd?"

"He's not a serial killer."

"At least we'll know who to search for when you don't come home from lunch tomorrow."

Sherri shot him a look. "Knock it off. She's scared enough as it is. And that guy was helping her, not hurting her."

"Yet."

Amanda ignored them both, carefully wrapping up the remains of her sub. Now that she was unemployed, she couldn't afford to waste anything. "I found a couple of restaurants that're hiring. I thought I'd fill out some applications this afternoon."

"I'll go with you," Sherri said, shooting Carl a look.

"Me, too. Wouldn't want you to be alone if either of those guys comes looking for you."

Amanda stifled her retort.

He wasn't wrong. She didn't know anything about Mark except what he'd told her—and that wasn't much. Maybe she shouldn't be so quick to trust.