Chapter 2 - Mandla

# Chapter 2: Mandla

"Do you have one of those devices that scans for GPS trackers on cars, or is that more your brother's department?" Naledi asks as I follow her to her car, parked at the farthest end of the steakhouse's dimly lit parking. Fuck. I hate to think how that creeper might've followed her out here and cornered her had she been alone.

I haven't stopped seeing red since I spotted them in the restaurant.

At first, I mistook it for jealousy. But after a second, I noticed how uncomfortable Naledi was. She was gripping her handbag like a lifeline. I didn't think my plan through before I marched past the hostess stand and pretended to be the boyfriend she was set on punishing.

"No." It's the only answer I can choke out because I'm seething.

I caught a quick glimpse of that photo on the table, and it has me on edge. What fucking psycho makes a family portrait and talks about wedding plans on a first date? If it weren't for my sister yammering on and on during her drive to the city earlier this afternoon, I wouldn't have known Naledi was on a date at all. I wouldn't have found an excuse to hang around at the coffee shop a hundred metres down the road.

Thank fucking God I did.

I pull my phone from my pocket and scroll for my brother's number.

"It's okay," Naledi says, shaking her head. "I'm probably just overthinking this whole thing."

"For the record," I say, my words a near growl because I'm that infuriated at the whole situation, "you're underreacting."

"Do you know him or something?"

"Who?"