If anyone else was around, I could not see them, and I doubt they could see us.

"Dom," Nathan said, "mind giving me a hand with the tire?"

"Uh, yeah," I replied.

He jumped out and went to the back of the truck. My heartbeat reverberated in my ears. Hesitantly, I opened the door and hopped out. The gravel crunched beneath my feet as they hit the ground. If I ran into the woods, I could get away.

"You coming?" Nathan called.

"Be right there," I replied.

As I was about to make a break for the woods, a blue SUV emerged from the fog up ahead. I turned to see where Nathan was and came face to face with him.

"You weren't about to run off were, ya?" His gaze was cold.

I wrinkled my brow. "No, I thought I heard a car coming—guess I was right."

"You guys need some help?" the driver of the approaching vehicle asked.

I wasn't about to wait for Nathan to respond, so I said, "We've got a flat."

Nathan's face softened, and he walked past me. "Good thing you guys came by," he began, "I just remembered I lost my jack about a week ago."

I exhaled in relief...

Scott and Raj introduced themselves shortly after getting out of their car. Fortunately, they had a jack and helped us change the tire. I was thankful they waited for us to drive away before they left.

"Sorry about the delay back there," Nathan said.

"It wasn't your fault, but thanks." I am way past caring about being late; I just want this trip to be over.

"I know, but I was trying to get ya home faster, not slower."

"I understand. Don't worry about it," I tried to sound reassuring. The mistake was accepting the offer in the first place.

"Thanks, man. You're a pretty chill a guy aren't ya?"

"I've been told that." It's not easy being relaxed knowing there's a knife under my seat.

"Well, chill's fine by me."

I smiled and nodded. The best plan is to play things cool until I can get out of this truck. And the sooner that happens, the better.

As we approached Angus Trail, I was in the process of texting Miguel to let him know I was running late. I was about to hit send when Nathan asked, "Home to Riverside?"

"What?" I asked, genuinely confused.

"Riverside, you said that's where you lived."

I forgot I lied about that. "No, I'm actually meeting my friend downtown. But you can just drop me off at the Tower Centre. I can walk from—"

"The Tower Centre? Like in Walton?" he interrupted before quickly turning onto Angus Trail.

"Yeah."

"That's barely downtown. I can drive ya to where you're gonna meet your friend."

I'm an idiot—should have just said I was going to the Tower Centre.

"Do you know where Thousand Pages is?"

"That charity book store on 12th Ave?"

"Yes," I nodded.

As he drove, I noticed the roads were decently empty, typical for a Saturday morning. And to the north, the skyscrapers towered over the city, their tops still shrouded in fog.

"You run in the park every day?" Nathan asked.

"Not every day." I didn't want to be specific. "Only when I'm not having a beer, "I quickly added to change the subject. That sent him on a tangent about the best bars in town.

Eventually, we pulled up to Thousand Pages, and I was more than relieved.

"Thanks for the ride," I held out my hand to shake Nathan's.

"Don't mention it," he firmly gripped my hand, "I swear I feel like I know you from somewhere."

"I guess I just have one of those faces."

"Guess so—look, I know I'm just some random dude who ran into you at the park, but I wouldn't mind giving you my number, for one of those times when you feel like grabbing a beer."

"Sure," I smiled and wrote his number in a note. "I'll text you later."

After getting out, I stopped in front of the store and texted Miguel to find out where he was since he hadn't texted me back. I looked up, and in the reflection of the window, I could see Nathan watching me. I turned around, gave a quick wave and went inside. I tried calling Miguel, but it went straight to voicemail. I walked over by the window to see if the truck was still there but pulled back when Nathan jumped out.

Why won't he leave?

My phone started ringing, but I did not recognise the number. I hit ignore and peered out the window again. Shit! Where'd he go? My phone buzzed. It was a text from the unknown caller: "Look behind you," it said. I jerked my head around and saw Miguel standing next to one of the bookshelves trying to contain his laughter.

I slid my phone into my pocket and walked towards him.

"Not funny, man," I shook my head.

"No, I'd say it was pretty funny. You looked like someone just told you Starbucks discontinued pumpkin spice lattes."

"That's also not funny."

"Dom, we're best buds," he threw his arm over my shoulder, "so I should be the one to tell you that you've got some basic in you."

I sighed. "What's with the new number?"

"Got a new work phone, and I figured I'd have some fun at your expense. I was not disappointed—also, who was the guy that dropped you off?"

"Just someone I literally ran into at the park." I looked back, and the truck was gone.

"What?"

"Nothing," I replied, "Let's just go check out some books."

While searching through the boxes, Miguel found one with 50 cents written on it and called dibs. So I continued looking in the five-dollar box I found before until Miguel said, "Never told me you wrote a book, bro."

I looked up, "What are you talking about?"

"See for yourself," he handed me the book.

The title read: Confessions of a Serial Killer by Dominic Ashworth.