Rowdy rubbed the back of his neck, unsure what to do about it. He didn’t like the idea of her driving home alone any more than he’d liked the idea of her walking a block from the bus stop. The security lights overhead would keep the area well lit. But with bright lights came heavy shadows, and even as he walked the lot, he felt an ominous stare. With plenty of daylight remaining, he looked around but saw that no one was noticeably watching him. That meant someone was trying to be covert. Idiot. He let his gaze wander, taking in minute details, studying everything, everywhere—and there. Parked on the side street, more hidden than not, he spotted the same damn BMW that had tailed him. That new, slick, silver four-door hybrid stood out even more noticeably than Avery’s little cherry-red ride. Ready for a showdown, Rowdy took a step in that direction and the car peeled away. You better run, you bastard.
