Lawton

by Sabrina Stark

  Chapter 33

  I found Bishop on the back patio. I strode toward him and asked, "What the hell is your problem?"

  He was lounging against the stone fireplace. "Me?"

  "Yeah, you," I said. "You were an asshole back there."

  He flicked his head toward Chloe's yard. "You see the ladder?"

  "No. I see an asshole."

  "I'm not talking now," he said. "I'm talking when we found her."

  I shook my head. "Screw the ladder."

  "Kind of suspicious, don’t you think?"

  "No," I said. "She got locked out. End of story."

  "In her underpants?" His eyebrows rose. "In November? Right."

  "Lay off," I said. "It could happen to anyone."

  "Except," he pointed out, "that it didn't happen to 'just anyone'. It happened to some half-naked chick who 'just happens' to be living next door to your new place."

  "Yeah. And you 'just happen' to be an asshole." I smiled. "See how that works?"

  He crossed his arms. "Pretty convenient she falls over your fence and has to be rescued."

  "Like I told you," I said, "she got locked out."

  "Right." Bishop's tone grew mocking. "So she just falls over your fence, and you're not suspicious?"

  I knew exactly what he was getting at. "Shut up," I told him. "She's no Brandy Blue. She's my neighbor, for God's sake."

  "Yeah? Like Brandy was just a cocktail waitress."

  At the name, I felt my body go rigid. Brandy was a girl I thought was my friend, a nice girl – or so I'd thought, until the moment I'd seen that sex tape. The thing had starred me and Brandy at her place after she'd pulled the whole damsel-in-distress routine. Now, she was a B-movie actress, just this side of porno.

  I stepped toward Bishop. "Listen," I said through gritted teeth. "You compare Chloe to Brandy one more time –" I paused. "Just don't, alright?"

  "Listen to yourself," Bishop said. "What are you gonna do? Kick my ass?"

  "Do I need to?"

  "I'd like to see you try." His voice softened. "I know you don't want to hear this. But she's trouble."

  "You're so full of it," I said.

  "I'm telling you, she's hiding something."

  I crossed my arms. "Yeah?" Usually, he had a good instinct for this sort of thing. But during the whole Brandy episode, he'd been off dealing with his own stuff. He'd never even met Brandy, and he sure as hell didn't know Chloe – which meant he was in no position to be giving me a hard time now.

  "Or maybe," I continued, "she's just a nice girl from a nice family, and the concept is so fuckin' foreign to you that you can't stop yourself from being a dick about it."

  "A nice girl from a nice family?" He gave a scornful laugh. "What are you gonna do? Put up a picket fence?"

  A vision of Chloe popped into my head. A picket fence might not be so bad. I recalled a time when Bishop had wanted one of his own. But that fence, and everything inside it, had gone up in flames, thanks to something – I still didn't know what – that he refused to talk about. He'd been off relationships ever since.

  But that didn't mean I had to be. I gave him a hard look. "Fuck off. Just because you're still pissed about your little fortune-teller –"

  "That's not it."

  "Whatever," I said. "Just don't take your shit out on me. Or more to the point, don't take it out on Chloe. Got it?"

  "No."

  "For fuck's sake," I said, "what's gotten into you?

  Bishop was silent for a couple of beats. When he answered, his voice was quiet. "Nothing."

  From the look on his face, it was a lot more than nothing. I softened my approach. "She's different. I like her. Really like her. Don't fuck this up for me."

  "Why?" he said. "Because she's got a pulse?"

  "No," I said, working hard to keep my cool. "And I told you, stop being a dick about it."

  "I'll stop being a dick when you stop being stupid."

  "So," I said, stepping toward him, "I can fuck Brittney and Amber and whoever else shows up from one side of the house to the other, and you don't say jack. But when there's someone I really like, you're an asshole about it. Is that how it is?"

  In truth, I hadn't fucked anyone tonight, but that wasn't the point. He knew damn well where I'd been going when I left him earlier, and he sure as hell hadn't tried to stop me. So, why was he stopping me now?

  "Don't forget," Bishop said, his voice rising now, too, "that I'm the one who got rid of them for you. So maybe you should be thanking me instead of giving me shit."

  Yeah, it was true. He'd gotten rid of them. But he'd also given Chloe a hard time. He'd made her uncomfortable. He'd made her feel unwelcome. That wasn't gonna fly, tonight or ever. And it especially wasn't going to fly if he sat around bringing up other girls.

  "Listen," I told him, "if you say one word to Chloe about Brittney – or any other girl – you can get in your car and leave right now."

  "Yeah? Well, what about our little side venture?" Bishop asked. "Planning to handle it alone?"

  There was this guy we knew, a hustler from the north end, who'd been serving up underage girls to his customers, out-of-towners mostly, who liked them young. We were planning on paying that guy a visit. But that wasn't until tomorrow.

  "That has nothing to do with this," I said.

  "You know she wouldn't like it," Bishop said. "Girls like that never do."

  "That has nothing to do with her."

  "You know what?" Bishop said. "Maybe you should just go ahead and fuck her."

  "What?"

  "Yeah," Bishop said. "Go ahead, I'll wait."

  "What the hell's that supposed to mean?"

  "It means," he said, "the sooner you have her, the sooner you'll move on."

  "Not with her. She's different."

  "'Cause she's supposedly the neighbor?" Bishop said. "Yeah, that's real smart."

  If I stayed one more minute, I would hit him. And how would that look to Chloe when I went upstairs, dragging Bishop's carcass behind me? I paused. Or vice-versa.

  Whatever his problem was, I wasn't going to let him ruin this for me. "We done here?"

  "Almost," he said. "Listen, I didn't want to say anything, but while you two were doing whatever, I checked out her house."

  My jaw was tight. "You what?"

  "Get pissed all you want," Bishop said. "But hear me out. She's not just some neighbor girl. I don’t know what her story is. But she doesn't live there, never has."

  My voice was quiet, probably too quiet. "And you know this, how?"

  "I saw her driver's license."

  I stepped forward. "Just how did you see her license?"

  "You know how."

  "I don't fuckin' believe you," I muttered.

  "Hey, I was in and out. Five minutes. No big deal."

  I knew how he worked. Unless he wanted Chloe to find out, there'd be no sign he'd been there. Odds were pretty good she'd never know. But I knew. And I didn't like it.

  "It's a big deal to me," I told him. "And it sure as shit would be a big deal to her."

  "Yeah, 'cause you're a regular angel." His tone quieted. "Listen, you're so blinded by this chick that you're not thinking straight. The way you talk, the way you look at her, you'd better be careful. If her address doesn't match, there's more to her story. There always is."

  "So what if it doesn't match?" I said. "My address doesn't match my license, either."

  "Yeah, because you just moved. And your last place wasn't that much different from this. Hers? It matches some low-rent shithole in Hamtramck."

  I shook my head. It wasn't that I didn't believe him. His track record was too good for that. But there had to be more to the story. The girl in question was upstairs. Soon, I'd get to know her, really know her.

  Whatever her living situation was, I'd find out. But I'd do it the right way, by asking her.

  Bishop pointed toward Chloe's yard. "And the owner of the house here? It's some surgeon. Guy's not married, either."


  I paused. At the fence, I'd met someone who claimed to be the owner, Leo. But if that douchebag was a surgeon, I was a prancing pony.

  Did that mean that Leo wasn't the owner? Shit, what if he'd been there robbing the place? What if the electrical truck was part of the gig?

  No. That couldn't be right, either. Chloe had confirmed the electrical thing. The whole situation was messed up. The sooner I asked her, the better. Until then, I sure as hell didn't want to discuss it with Bishop.

  "So?" I said, thinking of the surgeon. "It's probably her dad." At least, I sure as hell hoped so.

  "Except," Bishop said, "the guy doesn't have any kids."

  "Not that you know of."

  "Will you listen to yourself?" Bishop said. "A single guy with money? A girl half his age acting like she owns the place? You know exactly what that means."

  Enough was enough. At my sides, I felt my fists clench. I stepped forward until we were almost chest-to-chest. "I'm only gonna say this once. Lay off her." My voice rose. "I don't care that her address doesn't match, and I don't care that you're a paranoid motherfucker, and I sure as hell don't care that for whatever fucked-up reason, you don't like her."

  "I didn't say I don’t like her," Bishop said. "I'm just saying she's hiding something."

  "Yeah, and we're not? Stop being an asshole. If you can't, then get the fuck out."

  "You know who you sound like?"

  "Don't say it," I warned.

  "Dad."

  I looked at him a long time. Unlike Bishop, who'd grown up with the guy, I'd seen my dad maybe a dozen times. It wasn't exactly a positive experience.

  "Get out," I said.

  "You want me to leave?" Bishop shrugged. "Alright. I'll go." He turned and began walking toward the shadows. "But you need to wise up, and fast."

  He was wrong. The only thing I needed was Chloe.

  He didn't know her like I did. She was sweet and funny and smart as hell. And unlike every other girl I'd met in the last few years, she wanted nothing from me. She treated me like just a regular guy. It was different. I liked it.

  No. I loved it. When I was with her, I felt like the person I used to be – before Brandy, before the sex tape, before I'd become a brand, not a person.

  I glared into the shadows, feeling royally pissed off that Bishop had dragged me out here just to give me shit about something he didn't understand.

  He was the one who needed to wise up. Not me.

  Standing there, I let out a ragged breath and waited for the cold night air wash away the heat of my anger. But for some reason, it didn't. Like the scent of gunpowder, Bishop's words lingered in the quiet night.

  Stop being stupid.

  She's hiding something.

  There's more to her story. There always is.

  Asshole.

  Someday, he'd eat those words. I'd make damn sure of it.

  But now, Chloe was waiting. I turned and headed toward the nearest door, determined to shove aside any doubts. When the time was right, I'd just ask her. Maybe later on tonight. Until then, I wasn't going to let anyone ruin this for me.

  But as it turned out, it was too late for that, because when I got back inside, I had a new surprise waiting.

  Chloe was gone.

  Chapter 34

  I stood in the empty bathroom, trying to make sense of it. I spotted a damp towel draped over the side of the tub, along with the shirt that I'd given her at the fence. The room was scented with soap and misted with steam.

  But there was no Chloe.

  I'd returned from outside to find the bathroom door cracked open, but no sign of her anywhere. I glanced around. She was here somewhere. She had to be.

  I strode through the house, going from room to room. The house was big, but not so big that I couldn’t figure it out soon enough.

  She'd run out on me.

  But why?

  Before I knew it, I'd grabbed my car-keys and was heading out the front door. Whether by car or by foot, I'd find her. What I'd do then, I didn't know. For starters, an explanation would be nice.

  Once outside, I spotted her right away. She was standing in profile just inside my front gate. Her hair was wet, and she wore the casual clothes I'd given her earlier, along with an oversized dark hoodie – mine, obviously – and a pair of red tennis shoes that could've only come from my front closet.

  Nearby, the front gate was shut, and she was studying its keypad in obvious frustration.

  What was this? An escape?

  If she wanted to leave, I wasn't going to stop her. But I sure as hell wasn't going to let her go without first telling me why.

  Silently, I stalked toward her, feeling my frustration rise with every step. In my line of sight, she looked twitchy and nervous, like a rabbit surrounded by a pack of wolves. She leaned closer to the keypad and reached her fingers along its side.

  Looking for what? A secret lever? A switch? The code? Yeah, good luck with that.

  Before I knew it, I was right behind her. "Looking for something?" I asked.

  With a gasp, she whirled around to face me and blurted out, "I'm leaving."

  I crossed my arms. "Obviously."

  She glared up at me. "You can't keep me here."

  What the hell? The statement felt like a kick to the gut. "Is that what you think? That I want to force you to stay?"

  She looked down. "I don't want to fight about it. I just need to go, that's all."

  Well, that cleared things up. "That's all," I repeated.

  "It's just that –" She glanced around, as if looking for some magic escape hatch. "I don't want to leave Chucky alone."

  It was a lie, and not a very good one. But hey, I'd play along. "And you just realized this?"

  She nodded.

  I gave her a long look, searching her face for clues. Bishop's words echoed in my brain.

  Stop being stupid.

  She's hiding something.

  He was wrong. He had to be. There had to be a simple explanation. I started at the beginning. She'd gotten locked out, and one thing had led to another. And now, she was second-guessing things because – well, I didn't know why. Unless – maybe the whole thing had been an act?

  "You know," I said, "you didn't have to lie to me. I would've helped you either way."

  She lifted her chin. "I wasn't lying."

  Okay, maybe not about that. But she was lying about something. I gave her a dubious look. "Right."

  "Are you gonna let me go or not?"

  "You wanna go?" I said. "Fine. But you're not walking. Not alone." I glanced down at her clothing. "And not like that." The shoes didn't fit, and the hoodie fell almost to her knees. She'd be an easy target, assuming she didn't freeze to death first.

  "I'll be fine," she insisted.

  "Yeah? And how are you gonna get inside your house?"

  "I'll figure something out."

  I gave her another long look, trying to figure out what went wrong. Where was the girl on my couch? The one who snuggled against me and made me feel whole. The one who'd laughed and flirted and kissed me like she meant it. The girl who'd fallen over the fence and into my heart.

  Damn it. Where was she?

  From the look in her eyes, that girl was long gone. Something in my gut twisted. The way it looked, she wasn't coming back, at least not tonight.

  "Alright. You win." I reached into my pocket for my keys. "But I'm still driving you. And that's not negotiable." I glanced toward the nearest garage. "I'm gonna get the car. I'm guessing you wanna wait here."

  She nodded.

  Right. Because this was an escape. From me.

  "Yeah. I figured." I turned away, walked a couple of steps, but then turned back. "And just so you know, you can run off if you want, maybe scale the fence, whatever. But so can I. And I guarantee you, I can do it a lot faster than you can."

  Before she could argue, I turned around and kept on going.

  Five minutes later, we were pulling out of the driveway. As I navigated the quiet str
eet, I said nothing, and neither did she. But then again, I hadn't expected her to.

  When I turned into her driveway, I heard her voice, quiet and subdued. "Thanks for the ride."

  Yeah. And thanks for the bag of mixed signals.

  I gave her a sideways glance. In the oversized clothes, she looked small and worried, like a kid with monsters living under the bed.

  Shit. Maybe the monster was me. Pushing down my anger, I cut the engine and opened the driver's side door.

  In the passenger's seat, she practically jumped out of her skin. "What are you doing?"

  Getting ready to rape her, obviously. God, what did it look like? "I'm gonna help you get inside," I told her.

  "How?"

  "I don't know yet."

  "Yeah, I bet," she muttered.

  I tensed. Earlier, in front of Chloe, Bishop had made some dig about a locksmith. Had she caught that? At the time, it didn't seem like it. Then again, a lot of things seemed different from back then.

  Now, I only had two things to do – get Chloe inside, and get myself out of here before I said something I'd regret.

  Together, we walked toward the front door. The house was lit, like someone was home. Who knows? Maybe someone was home. I'd find out soon enough.

  When we hit the front porch, Chloe reached out and tried the doorknob. No luck. With her hand still on the knob, she leaned back to scan the front of the house. Looking for what? An open window? In this weather? I didn't see that happening.

  From somewhere inside, Chucky was barking his head off. On Chloe's face, I saw the ghost of a smile. When she caught me looking, the smile faded.

  Well, at least the dog made her happy.

  I turned away, heading toward the rear of the house. In two minutes, maybe less, I'd have her back inside. Then, and only then, I'd get the hell out of here. Or at least, that was the plan until Chloe ruined it by following along beside me.

  Great. She was probably worried I'd rob the place.

  On the back patio, I stood back, giving her space to try the door. She reached out and gave it a go. No dice. She gave me a sideways glance, but said nothing.

  I let out a breath. Time to go through the motions. Walking along the back of the house, I tried all the windows within easy reach. They were locked. But then again, I hadn't expected otherwise.