Rick turned his motorcycle around and pulled up about twenty feet behind the car, keeping his distance so as not to scare her. The moment his headlight hit her, she jumped up, clutching the tire iron like a weapon.
“Stay back!” she shouted. “I have mace!”
But the girl’s hands were shaking. She told him to leave, but her voice trembled. Her eyes darted to the car’s trunk again and again. Rick could tell something was deeply wrong.
He introduced himself carefully, explaining he was a retired firefighter. “I’ve got a daughter about your age,” he said. “I can help change that tire, or I can call the police to come help you. Your choice.”
At the mention of the police, her face went pale. “No! Please, no police.”
That’s when he knew this was no ordinary roadside breakdown.
The Terrifying Secret in the Trunk
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