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I don’t mind that the seatbelt’s too tight. It helps hold in my guts as the chopped down piece of rolling iron takes another hairpin turn. I can smell the heated rubber of the tires as they threaten to lose touch with the wet blacktop. My knuckles are white on the steering wheel, but I don’t dare slow down.

I’m thinking about the girl. There’s no sense thinking about my wife and kids. They’re gone now. Damn shame. They had been a nice little starter family. But, there’s still time to save the girl.

I’m out of the hub of the city now. The roads are dark and lonely. The one I’m on resembles a giant black snake, twisting and winding its way over the sloping terrain. The headlights of the Buick cut a narrow hole through the night.

I slow down as I hit the girl’s road. Its time to be careful now. I’m still in a hurry, but I can’t afford to attract the wrong kind of attention. I pull up in front of the building she shares with nine other students from the local university and kill the engine. I wait to see if my pulse will drop a notch or two. It doesn’t.

I pull the gun from the glove box and jam it into the waistband of my jeans. I tuck the grip as far under my coat as I can, but I want it in easy reach.

I mount the steps of the front porch and let myself in. The house is relatively quiet and the lovebirds in the living room don’t bother to spare me a glance as I climb my way to the second floor. Outside the girl’s room is another door I don’t bother to knock on.

The hall light spills into the narrow room. The sight of her makes me finally slow down. Her dark hair cascades across the white canvas of the pillow in waves, one bare shoulder lies outside the protective wrapping of the sheets. The rest of her lithe body is only a suggestion. Her face is innocent with sleep and I’m automatically filled with a need for her. I can already feel her skin against mine and smell her hair, drowning out the world. The memories are like ghosts, haunting me just beyond reach.

I call her name gently and lay my hand on her cheek. I stroke it lightly, the need for her growing urgently as I touch her. She surfaces to the waking world slowly. She recognizes my face and gives me a flash of the smile that stole my heart before confusion wipes it away with an ugly hand.

"What are you doing here?" The words break her soft lips just above a whisper. God, I want her.

"There’s no time," I say as much to myself as to her. "We have to go. Get up."

"What are you talking about?" She sits up in the bed and the sheet falls away from her perfect skin. Her body isn’t a suggestion anymore. It’s a statement.

"We have to get out of here. Get up." I reach under her bed and produce a small suitcase. I go to her dresser and begin throwing clothes in the bag. "Get dressed," I order with reluctance.

She pulls the sheet around her naked torso. "You need to tell me what’s going on," she says. Her voice is a louder now, a note of alarm clear. There is a noise from down the hall.

"I’ll explain in the car. There’s no time," I repeat.

"Go home, Cross," she sighs. "Go home to your wife and sleep it off."

A shadow falls in the doorway and I groan in my head. I turn and catch sight of the young dude, his health club muscles blocking my light.

"Everything cool?" He asks the girl.

"Everything is ice cold, kid. Take a fucking walk."

He eyes me up hard and tries to decide if he can take me. I pull the gun and let him know he can’t. The dark spot that forms in the crotch of his unzipped jeans is probably only the light and wishful thinking on my part.

He puts his hands out in front of him and tries to stammer through some rendition of ‘no problem man’. I don’t have time to hear it.

"Go finish rubbing your pathetic little dick against whichever one of these lovely ladies saw fit to throw you a pity fuck and mind your own business."

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