I walk home

I leave the bar with my heart racing for all the wrong reasons. Not because I’m buzzed, not because I’m excited. Because that look on Trevor’s face — Jesus, what the hell was that?

I’m practically speed-walking, my vape clenched between my fingers like a lifeline. I suck on it hard, the sweet burn filling my lungs, but it doesn’t help. I can still see his eyes in my head — that weird, vacant stare that turned sharp the second he realized I saw through him.

Thank God I didn’t take that drink. Fuck. That could’ve been so bad.

I glance over my shoulder, expecting to see him following me, but the sidewalk behind me is empty. The night hums with distant traffic, but out here it’s too quiet.

I exhale a shaky breath, clouds of vapor spilling into the cold air as I march on, heart still pounding.

That’s when I spot him.

Ahead, maybe half a block — a figure. A man, probably, in dark clothes. Good thing is that definitely isn't Trevor. But he's just standing there, like he’s waiting for something. Or someone.

My gut tightens.

Nope. Not tonight.

I can’t see his face, not really. But it feels like he’s watching me. Staring. And after Trevor, my nerves are shot to hell.

I veer off, taking a side street. It’s longer, but fuck it — I’d rather add five minutes to my walk than risk whatever that was.

I keep looking back as I go, checking, double-checking — but no, he’s not following. Good. Good.

I’m so focused on making sure he stays behind that I don’t even notice the other shadow until I’m right on top of it.

“Shit—!”

Trevor.

He steps out of nowhere, and before I can even process what’s happening, he shoves me hard. My back hits the wall, and his hands are on me, dragging me into the alley.

“Get off me!” I yell, struggling, trying to twist away.

And then I see it.

The glint of metal.

A knife.

My blood goes ice-cold.

Oh God. It’s happening. This psycho is about to kill me if I don't do something.