Blind: Killer Instincts by Sidney Bristol Page A

the guy dead, she didn’t want to be the person to pull the trigger on him. At least not when she was rational. Last night, well, she’d been emotional. She’d rather see the copycat suffer in prison, which meant he needed to get caught.
    “I’ve got to go.” There was no emotion in Jacob’s voice, which was worse than the anger seething through his teeth.
    “No, wait.” She grabbed his arm before he could circle his Jeep.
    He stopped, but didn’t bother looking at her.
    “You have every right to be angry with me.” You don’t know all the reasons. “I’m sorry, okay? I just—I need to understand this, and I thought maybe I’d get something if I came here. I knew you couldn’t show me, and I didn’t want to ask in case you’d consider it. TBK might as well have killed my daddy. I think leaving him alive was crueler than letting him live, and I can’t wrap my brain around a person like that. I thought...I don’t know...I’d see something that would help me. Be angry with me, but don’t shut me out, okay?” She let go of his arm and took a step back.
    He pivoted toward her, his head tilted to the side. God, it felt like he saw straight through her.
    “I’m trying not to.”
    “Okay.” She nodded.
    Yeah, she’d never hear from him again, which was probably for the best, anyway. She didn’t need her heart getting tangled up with someone who was unobtainable. She might not be educated, but she could see all the reasons they couldn’t work out, and she was beyond the appeal of something that was merely a flash in the pan.
    Jacob took two strides, almost bowling her over. Instead, he slid his hand into her hair, cupped the back of her head, and crushed his mouth against hers. She fisted the front of his shirt, lifting up on tiptoe to get closer. It might be the last time he touched her, and she wanted to commit it to memory. The kiss was rough, bruising, and short.
    “I have to go,” he said against her mouth.
    “Okay.” She kissed him back, short and sweet. God, she shouldn’t do this.
    He wrapped his arms around her, burying his face in the crook of her neck.
    “He killed again,” he whispered into her hair.
    Shut. The. Front. Door.
    Emma hugged him back, unsure if she should be scared or sad. The more kills, the more chance there was this guy could get caught. And what were the chances Mitchell the postman was their guy?
    “Go get him for me, okay?” She squeezed Jacob harder, then released him.
    He backed away from her, his gaze still hard.
    “We aren’t done,” he said.
    She hoped not, even if she knew they should be.
    Jacob climbed into his Jeep, and she stayed rooted to the spot. She didn’t want him to know she wasn’t in her truck right now.
    She knew following him was a bad idea, but she would do it anyway.
    To catch a killer you had to be a killer, or at least understand how one thought, and she was pretty close on that point.
    I’m coming for you, TBKiller.
    Jacob gripped the steering wheel so tight his knuckles were white.
    She’d lied to him.
    Emma Ration was a liar.
    She was sneaky, but she wasn’t sneaky enough. His phone was department property, and everything was backed up. And since he couldn’t shake the feeling something didn’t ring true with Emma’s story, he’d checked the logs. The messages were there.
    He wanted to punch something, so he’d feel anything except the rage burning him alive.
    There was no denying that he was a sucker. He’d known her story, painted her as the victim, another casualty like himself, all the while ignoring the truth. For a few brief moments, he’d thought they’d clicked. That she got him in a way most women ran from. But it was all too convenient.
    He didn’t know if he’d confront her about it, if it was worth facing his own foolishness, but he’d have to figure that out later. For now, he had a case to work, and the Behavioral Analysis Unit from the FBI to meet.
    Jacob pulled up to the ancient gas station off