I would recognize it even if it were covered in mud.
What was it doing here?
I frowned.
The strange thing was that it wasn't parked near the main entrance like the other cars, but beside a side ramp leading down to the lower levels of the parking garage.
The uneasy feeling I'd had ever since leaving home came rushing back even stronger.
I looked around, searching for any sign of Easton.
He wasn't there.
Neither was Zoella.
Just the abandoned Camaro sitting beside that dark entrance.
Before I even realized it, I was walking toward it.
"What are you doing here?" I murmured, staring at the car.
Then I heard it.
A deep sound echoed somewhere beneath my feet.
I froze.
At first, I thought I'd imagined it.
The music from the nearby clubs was loud enough to drown out almost anything
