Don't Rush Me (Nora Jacobs #1)(2)

My body is screaming at me to protect myself. My hands are trembling now, and a light sheen of sweat breaks out along my hairline. “This isn’t your stop,” I say with a shake of my head.

He shrugs. “Mine is the next one. It’s not that far. I’d feel better knowing you made it home all right.”

Now he’s making me nervous. I need to get off this bus alone. “It’s only half a block. I can make it. Thanks, though.”

The hope in his eyes dims a little. “Okay. If you’re sure.”

He looks genuine, but without touching him, I can’t be certain. “I’m sure. Thanks.”

The bus rumbles to a slow stop, and the feeling of dread seizes my chest so hard that I can barely breathe.

Gang Dude is still watching me—frowning at me—and now Oliver is watching me closely, too. I can’t tell which one of them means me harm. I need to get out of here. I’m so anxious that I stumble a little as I get to my feet. Oliver jumps up as well. “Please, let me help. You’re really pale.”

When he reaches for my hand, I catch a quick glimpse of his thoughts. He’s imagining us walking down my street together. He wants to get me home safely. He’s worried about me. He thinks a woman like me shouldn’t be alone on the streets of Detroit ever, much less after dark.

The image of me in his mind is practically glowing. I’m tall and slender. I don’t really have many womanly curves to brag about, but he thinks I’m beautiful anyway. He likes my sea green eyes even though they look haunted, and he thinks my long, shiny brunette hair is commercial worthy. He’s never seen me smile, but he’s sure it would be radiant if I did, and he wishes I would do it. He’s kinder to me than I am. I don’t think I’m as pretty as he sees me.

He’s a nice guy. I feel terrible for thinking he could have been the monster my gift is warning me about. This is why I can’t have friends. I would suck at being one. I pull away from him, needing to escape his mind. He takes my rejection the wrong way and sits back down, muttering, “Sorry.”

Part of me wants to let him walk me home, but there’s no point. No friendship I’ve ever had has lasted long. It’s better to keep to myself. “I’ll be fine,” I assure him again. I lean closer and lower my voice. “But if any of those guys follow me off the bus, call 911 for me, okay?”

Oliver’s frown deepens, but he nods reluctantly. “Be safe,” he says.

I give him a small smile. “You too. It was nice meeting you.”

Shouldering my backpack full of my grease-stained work clothes, I make my way off the bus. Each step takes so much effort it feels as if I’m wading through waist-deep snow. The second the bus pulls away from the curb, the reason for my premonition becomes clear. I let out a soft curse. I should have let Oliver walk me home. Should have stayed on the bus. I was an idiot for only thinking the trouble was with me instead of possibly lying in wait for me. I should have known better.

An unfamiliar car is parked on the other side of the street beneath a lamp. My creepy neighbor, Xavier, and one of his friends are hanging out in front of it. Xavier is leaning against the hood and peels away from it as if he’s been waiting for me. My stomach churns.

I grew up in the foster system since I was six years old. Some of the families I was placed with were nice and genuinely wanted to help. The last family I was with when I turned eighteen wasn’t. The wife worked all the time, leaving me with her drunk of a husband who couldn’t keep his hands to himself. I got the hell out the day I turned eighteen, but unfortunately that led to me taking an apartment in a slumerific building in the worst part of Detroit. I’ve grown up here, so I’m used to it, but lately I’ve had a problem with my neighbor Xavier.

Technically, Xavier’s dad is my neighbor. He happens to be my landlord, but I don’t see him much. Xavier, on the other hand, is around all the time now. He just started his third year at Wayne State University. He lives in the dorms, but he was home all summer and doesn’t seem to want to go back now that classes have started. He’s got more interest in me than school.

Pretending not to see him, I turn toward the apartments and take off at a brisk walk. If I can just make it inside my place, I’ll be safe.

“Hey, Nora!”

His voice, though innocent and cheerful, makes my skin crawl. Every time he touches me, I’m momentarily pulled into his head. I hear his thoughts, feel his intentions toward me. His disgusting mind terrifies me.

I pick up my pace and don’t stop until his hand grabs my arm. “Where do you think you’re going?”

Instantly, I’m flooded with his feelings and intentions. The images that flash in my mind make me shudder. He’s not just perverted; he’s twisted. The things he plans to do to me are degrading, painful, and sick. He prefers his women to feel like victims. He gets off on their fear.

A small squeak escapes me. “Xavier!” I gasp, clutching my chest as I feign surprise. “Hey. What are you doing here?”

My heart races as I glance down the street. I’m not close enough. Even if I could break away from him and make a run for it, I wouldn’t make it to my apartment. He’d catch me.

Xavier’s eyes narrow, and the side of his mouth twitches as if he’s suppressing a smirk. He’s surprised me. He knows I’m panicking on the inside, and he’s enjoying it. “I was waiting for you. Pops said it’s your birthday. I thought I’d take you out to celebrate.”