Zach finally acknowledges me when my elbow smacks against his side as I shove my way between him and Rachel. He straightens and mumbles so only I can hear, <i> “Damn, she gives me a hard-on. Gorgeous, and she knows cars.” <br />“I suggest you back the f*ck off,” </i> I mutter.<br />Zach smirks. <i>&gt; “Hey, you’re the one that left her here with me.”<br />“What are you guys talking about?” </i> Rachel asks.<br /><i> “Cars,” </i> I say. <i> “You said you needed to be home by ten. It’s nine-thirty.” </i><br />She blinks as if she just woke up. <i> “Crap. Already?” </i><br />I step aside so Rachel can exit the driver’s seat. Because Rachel is every guy’s fantasy, Zach begs her to stay: she should see the engine, she can ride in his car, she can drive his car. Each of his attempts to lure her to stay causes me to think of one more way to hide the body parts after I kill him.