"Whatever." I turned back to Lawton. "So for your sake, I hope you wore a damn condom." I made a hard, scoffing sound. "You know what? On second thought, I hope you didn't. Because you deserve whatever this skank gives you."
Lawton's face crumpled. "Baby." With two long strides, he closed the distance between us. He reached for my hand. "I didn't wear anything."
I snatched my hand away. "How nice for you."
"Because," he said, "I didn't have to. She's only here for one thing."
Yeah, and it was pretty obvious what that was. "Exactly," I said.
"Not that." He turned toward Brittney. "She's here," he said, speaking very slowly and clearly, "to tell you how very, very sorry she is."
I snatched my hand away. "In her underpants? Do I look stupid to you?"
With a muttered curse, Lawton strode over to the front closet. He reached to the top shelf and pulled out a navy stadium blanket. He hurled it at Brittney. She didn't move to catch it. The blanket hit her torso and slid to the floor.
"Cover up," he said. "Or get out. Your choice."
With a scowl, Brittney leaned over to pick up the blanket, taking her sweet time. With the same languid motion, she stood and draped the blanket loosely around her shoulders, covering next to nothing.
I pointed to her pelvis. "I think you missed a spot."
With a huff, she tightened the blanket around herself, leaving only her bare legs exposed. She gave me a smirk. "Prude."
I gave her a smirk right back. "Squid-fucker."
Brittney turned to Lawton. "Did you hear what she called me?"
Lawton gave her a cold look. "Like I care," he said. "Now, go on. Apologize. Chloe's waiting."
"Oh alright." Brittney blew out a breath and looked vaguely in my direction. Her voice was a bored monotone as she said, "I'm sorry about that little joke."
I stared at her. "A joke?"
She rolled her eyes. "You know. The prank. With Joey and Paul."
Joey and Paul? The guys in the ski masks? So that was their names?
Lawton's voice was tight. "That was no prank."
"Aw c'mon," Brittney said. "Yes, it was. Just a little joke. No big deal." She turned to me. "Go on, tell him. You thought it was funny. Right?"
"Funny?" I said. "So let me get this straight. Two masked men try to throw me in a trunk, and you call that a fucking joke?"
She shrugged. "At least I have a sense of humor. Unlike some people."
"Gee," I said, "maybe some people don't like getting dragged away in the middle of the night. Maybe some people are funny like that. Maybe some people aren't totally fucking nuts!"
"Hey, you're the one who's crazy," she said. "It wasn't the middle of the night. It was like, what, nine?" She turned to Lawton. "See? She's making it sound ten times worse than it was."
Lawton's gaze narrowed. At his side, his hands were fisted so tight that the corded muscles in his forearms looked hard as granite.
Brittney took a small step backward, but then quickly recovered. She tossed her long blonde hair over one shoulder and said, "So like I told you, it's no big deal."
"And like I told you," Lawton said, "it is a big deal. A very big deal. And if you were some guy, you'd be getting a lot worse than the chance to beg Chloe for forgiveness."
"Hey," she said. "No one said anything about begging." She threw back her shoulders. "Brittney Adams doesn't beg for anything."
"Not even car nookie?" I said.
She gave me a look. "It wasn't nookie." She turned to Lawton. "You believe me, right?"
"What I believe," he said, "is that you're supposed to be apologizing."
She pursed her lips and turned back to me. "Alright. I guess I'm sorry. But seriously, it's no big deal. In my sorority, we do that sort of thing all the time."
"Your sorority kidnaps people?" I said. "Seriously?"
With a little huff, Brittney turned to Lawton. "See? She's doing it again. She's making it sound worse on purpose, just to make me look bad."
Lawton gave her a murderous look. "You want to do a shitty job at this, fine." He pointed toward the door. "Get the fuck out. Now."
"But I'm trying to explain," Brittney said. "She won't let me."
He crossed his arms and spoke very slowly. "Try harder."
With an eye roll, she turned to face me. "What we do," she said, "is steal their mascots. Swipe 'em for a day or two." She gave Lawton a pleading look. "But we always return them. It's no big deal. See?"
"No," he said. "I don't see."
"But it was just a joke," she said. "I don't get why everyone's freaking out about it." She adjusted the blanket and gave a dramatic sigh. "But just because you asked, I apologized anyway. So are we good now or what?"
I turned to Lawton. "So this was your idea?"
He pushed a hand through his hair. "Yeah, but—" He gave Brittney a hard look. "It was supposed to go a lot better."
Brittney threw back the blanket, and tapped her bare foot against the floor. She gave me a half-hearted look. "So you do accept my apology or what?"
"Hell no," I said. "That was the worst apology, ever."
"Hey, it was my first one," she said. "I thought I did pretty good." She turned to Lawton. "Didn't I?"
He crossed his arms. "No."
Staring at her, I felt my gaze narrow. "Just how long have you been here, anyway?"
She hesitated a split second before giving Lawton a long smoldering look. "Hard to say. We kind of lost track."
"That's it," he told her. "Get out."
"But I'm not dressed!" Brittney said.
"Whatever. Keep the blanket. Just get out."
"But I don't have my car," she whined.
Lawton reached into his jeans pocket and pulled out a cell phone. He tapped out a quick message, and barely a moment later, there was a knock at the front door. Lawton strode toward it and flung it open. A uniformed driver stood at the ready.
"Take her wherever," Lawton said.
The driver glanced in my direction. "Yes sir."
"Not her," Lawton said. He pointed toward Brittney. "Her."
Oh God, how humiliating was this? He literally had so many girls, the driver was losing track.
"Of course," the driver said with a surprisingly straight face.
With Brittney protesting all the way, the driver hustled her, blanket and all, outside into a dark SUV. Lawton and I watched silently as it pulled down the drive and out the front gate.
From somewhere upstairs, I heard a male voice say, "Well, that went good."
Chapter 21
I glanced up and spotted Lawton's brother, lounging against the bannister. He wore dark sweatpants and no shirt, revealing a torso that might've made my mouth water if I were some other girl in some other place. His short, dark hair was mussed, like he'd just crawled out of bed.
I gave him a dirty look. "Eavesdropping again?"
"No. Trying to sleep." Absently, he scratched his lean stomach. "For all the good it did."
I rolled my eyes. "Oh, I'm soooo sorry if we ruined your beauty sleep."
Looking up the stairway, Lawton's eyebrows furrowed. "This is a private conversation," he said.
"Private, your ass," Bishop said. "Bet half the neighborhood heard."
"Fuck off," Lawton said, and then glanced quickly at me. "Sorry."
Bishop looked toward the front door, now closed. "Told you that was a bad idea." He shrugged. "But women, what do you expect?"
"That's it." I threw up my arms. "I'm outta here."
"Hey, don't leave on my account," Bishop said. "I'm heading back to bed."
"Yeah, you do that," Lawton said in a tone of forced patience. He reached up to rub the back of his neck, where the muscles were corded into tight knots.
When I glanced again at the stairway, Bishop was gone.
I cupped my hands around my mouth and yelled, "I hope you sleep like crap!"
No answer.
Muttering, I turned away.
"Chloe," Lawton sa
id. "Don't leave."
Ignoring him, I marched to his front door and flung it open.
"You're not walking," he said.
I turned to glare at him. "We already had this discussion."
"At least let me drive you," he said.
"No."
"Alright, then I'm walking with you."
I knew it was smart. But I didn't feel like being smart. I'd been stupid for weeks. Why stop now? "No, you're not," I said, turning away.
I strode out his front door and didn't look back. But as I reached the front gate, I felt that certain something, eyes on my back. I stopped. Reluctantly, I turned around. And there he was, Lawton, a few paces behind me.
"What are you doing?" I said.
"Making sure you get home okay."
With a huff, I turned back around and started walking again. But after about a block, I couldn't stand it anymore. I stopped again and turned around. He was still a few paces behind me. "You don't need to do this," I told him.
"Yes," he said, giving me a serious look. "I do."
"But it's creeping me out."
"Why?"
"Because I don't like someone walking behind me."
"Then I'll walk with you," he said. "But you're not walking back alone."
I glanced around, taking in our surroundings. Between the street lights, the sidewalk was dark, cast in the shadows of the tall trees that lined the residential street. I crossed my arms. "Fine. Whatever. But it doesn't change anything."
Lawton strode forward, joining me on the quiet sidewalk. For a couple of minutes, we walked in silence. The night air was freezing, and I tried not to shiver. I slid a glance in his direction.
He didn't even have a coat. He was being stupid. But what did I care?
I shouldn't care.
"I want to tell you something," he said.
I kept my voice disinterested. "What?"
"I know you don't want to hear it," he said, "but I do love you, and I'm so fucking sorry."
Something squeezed at my heart. I blinked hard and kept on walking. He was right. I didn't want to hear it. And I wanted to hear it a million times over.
I was a mess. I clamped my lips shut to keep from saying something regrettable either way.
With something like a sigh, Lawton bridged the silence and continued. "Which is why you deserve to know why I flipped out on you."
Chapter 22
Silently, I kept walking at a steady pace, ignoring the unsteady beating of my heart.
He had flipped out. Sure, almost anyone would be mad if they thought their girlfriend was planning to trick them into making a sex tape. But he'd taken mad to a whole new level.
He'd gone through my stuff. He'd treated me like trash. He'd tricked me into his basement and locked me down there for hours.
As if taking my silence as an invitation, Lawton continued. "A few years ago, right after that first fight video went vial, I met this girl."
Lawton met a lot of girls. No surprise, considering all his claims to fame. He'd made his money through prizefighting, the kind with bookies, beer, and bimbos. It wasn't hard to imagine what kind of girl he was talking about now.
But I didn't need to imagine. I knew exactly who he was talking about – Brandy Blue, the girl who starred with him in that sex tape.
"It was before that reality series," he said. "But I was starting to make a name for myself. Then there was the money." He paused. "Growing up, I never had any, you know? But it was starting to roll in. Lots of it. At least compared to what I had before."
I knew what he meant. Today, he was a billionaire. Back then, a thousand bucks probably seemed like a fortune. To me, it still was.
"But this girl," he said, "she worked as a cocktail waitress at this club I used to go to. She seemed nice. You know, working her way through college and all that. I don't remember what her major was supposed to be, but she was studying all the time, brought her books to the bar, always talked about what she was gonna do when she graduated."
He blew out a breath. "Wait. I remember. A veterinarian." His voice got an edge to it. "Yeah. An animal doctor. She was gonna take care of puppies and kittens, and nurse them back to health and all that shit."
"Shit?" I said.
"You know what I mean."
"Actually," I said, "I don't." I loved dogs, one in particular. Unfortunately, Chucky wasn't mine, just like a lot of things in my life. I could pretend, but that didn't change anything. Not really.
"Anyway," Lawton said, "I used to hang out at the club sometimes. And we got friendly."
"Yeah, I just bet."
He was quiet for a beat, and then he said. "Not that way. Not at first."
I heard myself ask, "Why not?"
"Because I liked her."
Still walking, I snuck a sideways glance in his direction. Cast in shadows, the angles of his face were sharper than ever, but his voice was very soft, like he was fading off into the past. "In some ways, she was a lot like you. Or at least, I thought she was. Which is why I didn't want us to… you know."
"So let me get this straight," I said. "You didn't want to have sex with her, and somehow she reminds you of me." I made myself smile. "Gee, thanks."
"It's not that I didn't want to. I mean, she was—" He gave a small laugh. "I mean, like I said, she was a lot like you. One minute, she'd be sweet and funny. And then the next minute? She'd be cussing like a truck driver, surprised the crap out of me. And she was–" he cleared his throat "— attractive."
"How nice for you," I said.
He dug his hands into the front pockets of his jeans and kept on walking. "But things were so crazy back then. I had girls throwing themselves at me everywhere I went."
"Like that's changed."
"Maybe. I dunno. But back then, it was all so new, I didn't handle it that good." He pulled a hand out of his pocket and pushed it through his hair. "I dunno. But this girl I liked. We were friends, maybe something more someday. I didn't know. But I wasn't gonna mess it up."
At first, I'd been absolutely certain he'd been talking about Brandy Blue. Now, I wasn't so sure. And the more he talked, the more I didn't even care what her name was. I totally hated her.
"I get it," I said. "You liked her. So?"
"So you know who I'm talking about, right?"
I shrugged.
"Brandy Blue. The girl from, you know, that video."
This didn't make any sense. The girl he had just described sounded nothing like Brandy, other than being attractive, and working as a cocktail waitress. From what I'd read, Brandy had never gone to college. Mostly, she'd been trying to get famous – sometimes as a model, sometimes an actress.
After that video, she'd gone on to do a couple of horror flicks and a short-lived stint on a doctor drama. I hadn't read much about her lately, but she was still a household name, mostly because of that video with Lawton.
"I didn't know Brandy went to college," I said.
"That's because she didn't."
I stopped walking. Lawton did, too. I turned to face him.
"What do you mean?" I said.
"I mean," he said, "it was all a sham. Everything. The nice girl act, the college thing, the books. It was just one big crock."
"I don't get it," I said. "Why?"
"That's the best part," he said. "This guy – someone I thought was a friend – he gets this idea that I should make a sex tape." Lawton made a sound that was probably supposed to be a laugh. "Everyone was doing 'em. Quick fame, right? That could be me. Famous for being famous. All I needed was a willing partner."
My heart sank. "So you did it?"
Stupidly, I'd come to believe his official story, that the footage had been taken without his knowledge. I should've known better. It's what they all said after the fact, wasn't it?
His gaze met mine. "That's what you think? That I filmed that thing on purpose? That I wanted the world to see me fucking some chick for five minutes of fame?"
The venom in his voice surprised
me. I looked down, trying to collect my thoughts.
"You want the truth?" he said.
I looked up and felt myself nod.
"That kind of fame?" he said. "Don't want it, don't need it. But Brandy, she wants it and needs it, because she's gonna be a fuckin' star someday."
"So what happened?" I said.
"So she hooks up with this friend of mine. And this so-called friend tells her everything she needs to know – where I hang out, things I like, things that piss me off. And they agree to this split."
"Of the money?" I said.
"No. He gets the money. She gets the exposure."
"Literally or figuratively?" I said.
"You saw the footage. What do you think?"
I shook my head. "I don't know," I said. "I never watched it."
His mouth tightened. "I saw the disk. Remember?"
I didn't need to ask which disk. Obviously, he meant the one he'd seen lying on the Parkers' kitchen table. The label on the case, handwritten in big, black letters, was a dead giveaway – Rastor Sex Tape.
I was still mad as hell about what he'd done, but the story he'd just relayed was so sickening that my heart went out to him.
My voice was quiet. "Erika brought it over. You know, for my birthday. She didn't know that you and I were together. She thought it would be funny." I shrugged. "You know, because we're neighbors."
I blew out a breath. "But you and I were together. At least I thought we were."
"We were," he said. "I still wanna be."
He was making this so damn hard. His behavior had been inexcusable, or so I thought. But then what does he do? He gives me an excuse that, well, actually made a lot of sense. How would I feel in his shoes?
Oh crap. He'd asked me about the tape, hadn't he?
"Anyway," I said, "it just seemed wrong to watch it. Plus, well, I guess I didn't really want to watch you doing that with anyone else."
At this, he smiled. A real smile. It seemed like forever since I'd seen one.
"Yeah?" he said.
That smile, his voice, the things he said – I was falling. Everything was happening too fast. I needed time to think.
"So with Brandy," I said, "you two ended up having sex anyway, and she taped it?"
His smile faded. "Not exactly. This one night, outside the club, I was supposed to meet her there at closing time. Get a coffee or something. So I pull up to the back entrance, and she's already there." His voice hardened. "And she's crying."
Rebelonging (Unbelonging, Book 2) Page 7