Lila's POV
Three days after the alley, and I still couldn't shake the feeling of eyes on the back of my neck. Nothing concrete. No proof, no plate numbers, no faces I could point to and say ‘that one, right there, he's been following me’. Just that itch, that primal little alarm bell that had kept me alive through the years of racing dirty tracks and dirtier men all my life. My gut had never lied to me before. I wasn't about to start ignoring it now.
I checked my mirrors obsessively on every ride. Varied my routes home. I even switched up which diner I grabbed coffee from, just in case somebody had my schedule memorized. Paranoid? Maybe. But paranoia had kept girls like me breathing in this city long after prettier, softer ones got chewed up and spit out by clubs like the Serpents. Somet
