Blind Spot - Katana Collins Page 0,36

talking. I slid out of the booth, pulling out a twenty from my wallet. Tate’s hand shot out, folding my money back into my hands.

“I already took care of it.”

I paused, startled. “What? When?”

He slid to the edge of the booth, standing as well. “When I went to the bathroom.”

Emotion bristled through my body, making all my hairs stand on edge. “This wasn’t a date,” I snapped. I told him that from the beginning, and it wasn’t my fault if he didn’t listen closely enough. “Here.” I sifted around my wallet until I found a ten and held it out for Tate. “Take it.”

He held up both hands, leaning away from me. “Shelby, it’s fine. You’ll get the next time.” Except there wouldn’t be a next time. Couldn’t be. He glided past me, opening the door and waving to Cathy with his free hand. “Nice meeting you.”

I gave Cathy a small wave, and as I passed by Tate, I grabbed his sleeve, pulling his ear close to my lips. “Did you tip her?”

“Of course.” He rolled his eyes.

“Well?”

He licked the swell of his moist bottom lip and locked me into a staring showdown. “Of course,” he said again. There was a darker timbre to his voice this time.

I released my hold on his shirt, pulling away from the sheer magnetism, and forced a smile for Cathy.

“You kids come back soon!” she called out, wiping down our table.

“We will, Miss Cathy,” Tate said.

The parking lot was dark except for one flickering street lamp that was decorated with graffiti and stale pieces of gum. We crossed the pathetic excuse for a strip of grass and back over to the empty lot at the tutoring center.

“Shelby.” Tate darted for my elbow, pulling me back against his broad chest. It heaved with thick breaths. “Stay behind me,” he growled, and using that hand, he scooped me behind his right shoulder. “Something doesn’t feel right.”

I rolled my eyes and pushed forward in front of him again. “Tate, just because the neighborhood isn’t white picket fences and trees and mansions doesn’t mean you’re going to—”

There was a click as a shadow stepped out from between the buildings. Moonlight sliced across the gleaming barrel of a small gun. I gulped, and my stomach convulsed, twisting upside down.

“Give me your purse and your wallet,” a gruff voice said. “Do it now, or I’ll fucking shoot.”

Chapter Eleven

TATE

I should have trusted my instincts. As soon as we crossed to the parking lot, something felt off. It was too quiet. With my thumb, I opened the switchblade to the Swiss army knife that was attached to my keychain, just as the kid stepped out and pulled the gun on us. I put my hands up and Shelby did the same, her shoulders stiff.

He was young—probably not even out of high school. And he wore black from head to toe, including a hat. He said something about our wallets and jewelry, or some other bullshit he probably got off of TV.

On the left side of his neck, just above his collar, was a mole, and I searched his face for any other distinguishing marks. Hazel eyes. Small scar above his right eyebrow. “Easy,” I said, sliding a look to Shelby. Her raised hands trembled, and I wanted nothing more than to pull her into my arms.

“Jewelry, too. Hurry the fuck up,” he said, gesturing to my watch.

“Tate—” Shelby’s voice was soft, and about as shaky as the boy’s hand holding the gun.

My heart pounded, slamming into my ribs, but I took a deep breath, keeping my voice as even as possible. “It’s okay, Shelby.” Despite the gentle tone of my voice, my body braced for a fight. Adrenaline pumped through my veins. I wanted nothing more than to rip this little fucker’s head off.

I took in every detail, from the tip of his hat down to the gun in his hand. Narrowing my eyes, I studied every inch of it, a wry grin twitching at my lips. I’d been hunting with my dad enough to know that real guns don’t have plastic edging around the seams. But BB guns do. It might not kill us, but it would still hurt like a fucking bitch.

“I–I don’t have any jewelry.” She flipped her hands around.

“Look, man. You don’t want to hurt us. I have cash in my wallet. Take that and go.”

“Shut up!” the boy screamed, his voice cracking. He turned the gun on me. “Your watch. Now.”

“You can have the watch.” I moved