“You have ten seconds to explain why the hell you’re following me before I scream rape and give you a mouthful of mace,” Kate threatened. Her breathing came out ragged and she could not stop the trembling as she gripped the container.
The boy frowned and did not meet her eyes. “I'm so sorry I scared you. I guess I went about this whole thing the wrong way,” he mumbled.
Kate looked him over while still keeping her finger on the trigger. He was definitely rough around the edges and she felt she had just cause to be alarmed. A few scars were visible on his neck along with one at the edge of his full lips. Besides a tribal band on his left bicep, she noted a scorpion tattoo on his forearm. He was super muscular and she guessed he could easily knock her out before she even had the chance to think about making a run for it. She hated to judge a book by its cover, but this dude looked like he should be serving ten to twenty at the state pen.
“What the hell are you talking about?” she demanded when he didn’t elaborate on his statement.
“I’ve been following you.”
Kate fought down the urge to vomit when he uttered those words. What the heck were the chances she’d end up being targeted by another nut job in a month’s time? Did being psychic send out a mix of pheromones that attracted all the crazies in the
Before she could demand more answers, he continued, “It’s not as bad as it sounds. I’m like you.” Relaxing his stance and placing his hands in his pockets, he shot her a sheepish smile. It was crooked and certainly had the effect of reducing his threat level in her mind.
Her hazel eyes locked with his onyx eyes. “What do you mean you’re like me? You’re also obsessed with The Bachelor and have a fear of public restrooms?”
He let out a low chuckle. “No Kate, I’m psychic.”