Blind Spot - Katana Collins Page 0,11
mom.”
He was quiet a moment as the officer inched his way through the crowd in our direction. “She was like a mom to me, too, you know.”
“Guys, come on…” Reagan tried to cut in. Only nothing would stop me. Nothing stopped the anger and sorrow and sheer pain that radiated through my heart.
“Yeah. Except you still have a mother somewhere. You still have the hope that she could come home one day. I have no one.” My voice broke and I cleared my throat quickly to cover up the catch in my voice.
“I’d much rather have twenty-one good years with a mom like yours than eighteen years of wondering if my mother would ever think I was worth coming back for.” He threw the words back at me, and I deserved it.
We were all silent for a moment, and the few people left here at the party hummed quietly with chatter. I squeezed my eyes shut and ignored that familiar burn of tears at the back of my sinuses. My mom always thought of Harrison like her own son, and if she’d heard me say that about his mother, I would have been scrubbing the bathroom with a toothbrush for a month. Just because I was sad, and nervous around the cops, didn’t excuse me using him like a punching bag. Twenty-one years. That was all I got with her. But Harrison had even less time with his mom—time he barely remembered. I didn’t have a future with my mom, but at least I had the memories. “You’re right. That was a shitty thing to say. I’m sorry.” And if anything, I only proved how right he was. I am stubborn. So was mom. But we’d always had to be. There was no surviving without that trait.
“I’m sorry, too,” Harrison finally offered.
“I know,” I whispered.
“I love you, Shelbs.”
I swallowed. “I know that, too.”
As the officer moved closer and closer to us, the feeling of dread in my stomach deepened. It was like being in a guillotine, forced to watch the blade come down on your neck.
Finally, he reached us. My fingers trembled, and I shoved them into my back pockets to hide my nervousness.
“IDs please.” He was tired, but polite. Reagan and Harrison eyed me as they handed theirs over.
“I live in the building…” I started and my voice cracked, a burning heat tightening in my chest. “A-and I left my license downstairs. It’s literally one floor directly below this apartment.”
His eyes narrowed and traveled the length of my body. They widened when he reached my bare feet, and an understanding smile tugged at his lips. “Well, that would explain the no shoes. You been drinking?”
I shook my head. “Barely anything.”
He nodded, his face softening. “Once I finish up the rest here, we can go down to your apartment together for your ID.”
Even though I was prepared for this answer, fear struck me fast and sudden like a bolt of lightning. My knees locked, the muscles in my thighs twitching.
“Can she go down and grab it real quick right now while you finish up?” Reagan asked.
Thank God for that girl, I thought, as tears stung the back of my eyes.
“I’m afraid I can’t do that. Protocol says we’re not allowed to let anyone out of our custody until after their identity has been verified.”
“Well, then we should be able to come downstairs with you, right?” Harrison added. His voice was harder than Reagan’s, more brittle and ready for a fight if needed.
The officer didn’t hesitate, not even for a moment. “Of course, that’s fine. Let me finish up these folks, and we can go down.”
Harrison squeezed my shoulder lightly. “Breathe, Shelbs,” he whispered, and I sucked in a breath. How long had I been holding it?
“Thank you,” I whispered. His smile was a ghost of the Harrison I used to know, but he flashed me a quick grin anyway.
“Anytime. You know that.”
Chapter Four
SHELBY
The next morning, I pulled into Turner Hall, lucking out with a spot right by the front door. Putting my mom’s MG into park, I leaned back in the driver’s seat, and it absorbed my weight, almost as comforting as a hug. Mom’s face flashed into my mind, pressure clamping my throat. God, I missed her. She would have called me this morning…my first day of school. Just to check in. Just to make sure I had woken up in time, even though I’d only ever missed class once, my freshman year after pulling an all-nighter studying.
Despite the