“I know what I’m doing, Tate.” He turns and glares at me. “You always think you know so much fucking better than me, don’t you?”
“What the hell are you talking about?”
“Tate, I give you fucking everything.”
“What are you talking about?”
“What you said tonight.” He glares at me again as I just look at him completely dumbfounded.
“All I said was that I like to read.”
He cuts his eyes at me. “It’s what type of books?”
“Jesus. Are you fucking kidding me? They asked me, did you want me to lie?”
“It makes me look bad.”
“How? Do you think that because I read romance books, people think that I’m unhappy?”
He cuts his eyes at me again.
“Jesus fucking Christ…” I scoff as I look away. “Believe me, reading has absolutely nothing to do with me being unhappy. You did that all on your own.”
The car dangerously swerves, and he slams on the brakes.
“What the fuck are you doing?”
“Get out.”
“We’re on the other side of town.”
“I don’t give a fuck. Get out of the car.”
“It’s my fucking car.” I shout at him, but he reaches across me, grabs the door handle, and pushes me out. Somehow I failed to realize that he had unbuckled my seatbelt as he reaches across me. My knees hit the pavement first, hard, and I wince out before the tires squeal as he peels out next to me.
“ASSHOLE!” I scream out after him as I look around and groan. I can’t even call anyone because my fucking purse with my phone is still in the car. “Shit.”
I hear the hammer being pulled back before the voice even starts. I freeze, spinning around and looking squarely down the barrel of a gun. “You have exactly 2 seconds to explain why I shouldn’t blow your fucking head off.” His voice is so raspy and deep that it sends chills through me.
“I…” I stutter, not sure what to say. “I…”
“You’re trespassing.”
“I—I didn’t realize. I just came out for a walk.” I attempt to look up past the barrel at the man behind it, but can barely make out anything about him. “Please don’t—” My voice trails off as I plead for my life, but he cuts me off anyway, unfazed by my plead.
“Was it you?” He shouts, pushing the barrel against my head, forcing my body backwards until I’m flush with the tree behind me.
“Was what me?”
I don’t need him to say anything else. I know he thinks I’ve done whatever it is.
“Whoa.” I hear a woman from somewhere behind the gun as leaves crunch underneath the footsteps. “Whoa. Z, lower the gun.” The voice tells him, and I’m surprised when the barrel lowers.
“Let’s walk before we run there.” Another man’s voice sounds. I know it should sound like it’s coming closer, but for some reason it sounds further away as the eyes in front of me look down at me. His nostrils flare in rage. Once his eyes land on my face, he exhales, and our eyes lock. I’m rapidly drawn in to his eyes, and how they’re different colors. One blue and one half blue, half brown.
“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” He snaps out at the couple behind him, but his eyes never leaving mine.
“That,” the woman starts this time, but stops herself as if she’s trying to consider what to say. “We’re aware that you’re invested in all of this, but let’s pump the brakes before we start murdering people.”
