Page 72 of Jolt's Vengeance

Suddenly, Sienna's phone buzzes.

She glances at it, her eyes widening. "Shit, I completely lost track of time," she mutters, hastily gathering her things.

"Everything okay?" I ask, concern creeping into my voice.

"Yeah, yeah," she says distractedly. "I just forgot I promised to help one of the girls at the house with a project. It's due tomorrow and she's freaking out."

I nod, understanding all too well the panic of upcoming deadlines. "Go on then, I'll clean up here."

Sienna pauses, looking guilty. "You sure?"

"Aye, it's no bother. Now get yer arse movin' before she has a meltdown."

Sienna flashes me a grateful smile. "You're the best, Aggie. I'll text you later!"

As she rushes out, I can't help but feel a twinge of loneliness in her absence.

Sienna really is a good friend, and I love hanging out with her.

I gather our trays, I can't quite shake the nagging desire to text Jolt, to hear his voice, to feel his arms around me again.

"Get a grip, Aggie," I mutter to myself, dumping the trash and stacking the trays. "Ye've got more important things to worry about than some biker, no matter how good he is in bed."

But even as I think it, I know I'm lying to myself.

Jolt has wormed his way under my skin, past my carefully constructed defenses.

And that terrifies me more than I care to admit.

I push through the cafe's double doors, the cool night air hitting my face like a slap.

The streets are eerily quiet, except for the distant hum of traffic and the occasional bark of a dog.

I hesitate for a moment, my eyes adjusting to the darkness.

"Right," I mutter to myself, squaring my shoulders. "Just a quick shortcut and ye'll be home in no time."

I turn down a narrow alley between two buildings, one I vaguely remember hearing about from one of the sorority girls.

It's supposed to shave ten minutes off the walk, but as I venture deeper into the shadows, doubt creeps in.

"Bloody hell, Aggie," I chide myself. "Ye couldn't just take the long way, could ye?"

The alley seems to stretch on endlessly, the darkness thickening with each step.

My heart rate picks up, and I find myself straining to hear any sound beyond my own footsteps.

That's when I hear it—another set of footsteps, just slightly out of sync with mine.

I whirl around, my breath catching in my throat.

A figure stands about ten feet behind me, face obscured by a hood.

My mind races, Da’s voice echoing in my head: "Always be aware of your surroundings, kiddo."

"Shite," I whisper, turning back and quickening my pace.

The footsteps behind me speed up too.

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