Page 12 of Shockproof

And when I finally locate the person trying to kill the love of my life, that’s exactly what the fuck I’m going to do.

Chapter 3

Arley

I can’t believe I almost killed someone.

Er.

Got someone almost killed.

That someone was almost killed because of me.

Because I’m too analytical.

Too thorough.

Too comfortable spotting patterns and using them.

I know Slater said what happened to Yi isn’t my fault, but how can it not be?

Afterall, it wasmehe was protecting when he was attacked by the taser man.

It’smystupid ability to see what’s not there, what lingers just beneath the lines that has evidently stamped an expiration onto my back.

You know…I honestly don’t know what’s more terrifying.

The fact that it’s there or the fact I can’t see exactly how many days I have left.

“Hey,” Harvey gently nudges me in the arm, brushing the sleeve of my light pink dress, “where’d you go?”

Seeing his shaky wording match the shading of my dress only further solidifies the feelings of guilt.

Great.

It’s not enough that I’ve put someone in the medical wing.

I’ve managed to break the unbreakable boss too.

This day can’t possibly get any fucking worse.

Opening notes to “Careful What You Wish For” by Bad Omens immediately begins pouring from the speaker like some shitty scene change in a b class action movie prompting me to deliver a hard eye roll.

Ugh.

I knew I should’ve switched to a different playlist.

My reluctance to answer causes Harvey to place his palm on top of the files I’m struggling to review. “Arlette.” He instantly chortles over the sneer he’s conjured up. “I realize how much you hate hearing your full name, but at least I know I have your attention.”

“It’s like Pavlov’s bell for me.” Leaning back in my seat is accompanied by a small smile. “You say my full name and suddenly, I’m twenty years younger, having to pull a thesis worthy statement about different types of music affecting social psychology out of thin air.”

His eyebrows launch to the ceiling at the same time his head slants in disbelief. “Did you say…twenty years younger?” Bewilderment deepens along with the coloring of his speech. “You were taking psychology at fifteen?!”

“I wasdefyingpsychology at the age of fifteen.” Reaching for the DJ alien pen Slater got me during his trip to Roswell where he rescued a child from an extraterrestrial worshipping cult run by the kid’s father. “Simply by being in the class.” I thoughtlessly run my thumb along the length of the object, bumps soothing some of my lingering anxiety. “Patterns with people have always fascinated me even when I was the one messing them up.”

“That’soneway to view being so young in a college course.”

“It’s theonlyway to view being so young in anadvancedcollege course that the professor did everything he could to stop you from taking.”

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