My grip on the wheel was firm. My knuckles were white as tension still seeped from my bones, but I kept checking the rearview mirror every few seconds. My heart hadn’t stopped racing. 

All I could see behind us was Alexander’s black Aston Martin, trailing at a safe distance. He was keeping to his promise to keep me safe and making sure I got to the dorm without any other interference. 

Sloane was quiet in the passenger seat. Her fingers drummed softly against the hem of her skirt, and ...