Page 52 of Kiss Collector
Oh, shit. I rush out from behind the counter, ready to yell for them all to get the hell out. I’m not getting fired over a stupid fight. But what I see is not what I expect. Rube suddenly sheds his bully persona, trading it for a teddy bear attitude.
“Hey, what’s up, man?” Rube says with a smile. “Joel, right? Yeah, I remember you. I know your brother, Marcus, too.”
Joel stares at him, unsmiling. He and his friends look like complete gangsters as they glare at the three Hillside guys, who seem to have lost all the bravado they walked in here with. Kwami and the other guy continue to pin them in place with stares while Joel looks at me.
“How you doin’? Everything okay?”
“Yeah,” I say automatically. I don’t want to be a punk and admit that Rube was bothering me, especially since it seems he already knows.
Joel looks at Rube and says, “See you ’round, man.” But Joel doesn’t move. Neither do his friends.
“Yeah, all right,” says Rube, and he takes the cue, strutting away with pride, acting like he didn’t just get kicked out. Hisfriends follow, throwing shade over their shoulders but keeping their mouths shut. Kwami and the other guy walk to the entrance after them, almost as if they’re keeping guard to make sure they actually leave.
I let out a sharp exhale and mutter a long curse about Rube that I’d been holding back.
Joel grins. “You could probably take that chump down if you wanted to. Quick hit to the throat. He’s a big-ass baby.”
I try to smile but still feel too gross. “He’s friends with my ex—”
“I know.” Joel’s quick response sends a ripple through me. He knows?
“Oh.” I swallow. “Well, thanks. That’s twice this week you saved me.”
He gives an easy shrug. “I’m just a model citizen.”
This makes me laugh, and the other guys join in.
“Y’all are laughing a little too hard,” Joel says with a grin. He gives me a nod as he backs away from the counter. “Take care.”
He turns and leaves me to get back to work. I watch his slow strut out of the store. Backward ball cap, fitted white T-shirt, baggy jeans, and oversize tennis shoes. I take stock of what I know about Joel. Rube said he knew his brother, Marcus, who I’m pretty sure graduated already. Rube looked almost scared. Maybe Joel really is a dealer? Whatever he is, I’m grateful he stepped in. I hate to admit that Rube scares me, but he’s never tried to hide his dislike of me, and he’s unpredictable.
If I thought I was on edge before, it’s nothing compared to how I feel after that scene.
Two hours before my shift ends I get a nice surprise whenZeb walks in. At the sight of him, some of the slithering nastiness in my abdomen disappears. Then I see he’s with two kids from our old neighborhood: that loudmouthed Rob kid and another rough-looking boy. Say what?
I pull Zebby over and whisper, “Who brought you here?”
“Rob’s mom.”
“You and Rob are friends again?”
“Yeah. He’s been cool since you busted his balls.”
Boys are so weird. I give Zeb a light smack on the back of his head and he goes off to hang with his friends. They go straight to the back corner, which has buttons and key chains with dirty phrases and cusswords. They’re all three laughing and being obnoxious. I consider shooing them out of there but stop myself. It’s harmless. I don’t want to embarrass my brother.
As I’m opening a box of sale tags I notice it gets quiet. I look over, and to my utter horror, Zeb and Rob are both sliding something shiny into their pockets. All at once, the three boys glance toward me and freeze. The kid I don’t know puts his hands up in the air, shaking his head.
I’m suddenly hot, my heart sinking in a torrent of lava. It takes every ounce of self-control for me not to hop over the counter and sprint toward them, screaming like a banshee. Instead, I don’t dare move. They are behind the rack, hidden from the security camera, and I don’t want to draw attention.
My voice is deadly. “Both of you take them out of your pockets and put them back.”
The shakes that racked me last night are back. I’m barely holding it together.
Rob looks at me blankly, like he has no idea what I’m talking about, but Zeb’s pained face holds back none of his guilt. His chin trembles as he pulls a button out of his pocket in a limp hand. Rob gives him a hard glare.
“Now you,” I say to Rob.
He huffs through his nose and pulls out a button, smacking it back onto the magnetic strip. I slowly come around the counter to face them, pulling out my phone.
