"Why?" I asked.
"Well at first, it was hard to get the story out of her. But from what I did get, a couple of guys jumped her in the parking lot. Tore at her uniform, and tried to–" He paused. "Well, you know."
"Oh my God," I said. "Did they ever find them?"
He gave a bark of laughter. "No. And you wanna know why?"
I nodded. "Why?"
"Because they didn't exist."
Chapter 23
I tried to digest what he'd just told me. "What do you mean they didn't exist?" I said.
"It was all a big show," he said. "The torn clothes, the fake tears. By then, she knows me pretty good. Especially with this friend of mine feeding her information. And she knows I can get a little intense when people I love are hurt–"
I swallowed. "So you loved her?"
He shrugged. "I dunno. Not like that. It's not that she was unattractive—"
"You already said that."
"Alright, you want the truth?" he said. "I didn't see her like that."
"Why not?"
"The truth? There was this other girl, someone I'd met maybe a few months earlier, before everything started to hit. And I couldn’t get this girl out of my head."
Another one? God, how many girls were there? I felt my jaw clench. "You're changing the subject," I said. "What about Brandy?"
Lawton hesitated a half second and then continued. "So that night, after this so-called attack, she wouldn't let me do a damn thing about it."
"Like what? What'd you want to do?"
"Find those guys, take care of it."
"How?" I asked.
He shrugged. "I had a few ideas."
From the tone of his voice, I could only imagine.
"So what happened?" I said.
"So we go back to her place, and I should've known something was up. The place looked like—" He shook his head. "Well, let's just say it looked like she was expecting company."
"Romantic company?"
"Yeah. And she asks me to hold her, and starts kissing on me, and one thing leads to another."
I snorted. "Yeah. I bet."
His gaze snapped to me. "Go ahead. Joke about it. You and everyone else. I should be used to it, right?"
I felt the color rise to my cheeks. "I'm sorry," I said. "Really." And I was. He might deserve a lot of things, but he didn't deserve ridicule, not for this.
"It's alright," he said. But from the look on his face, it obviously wasn't.
"No," I said, my voice softer now. "It's not. I don't want to be like everyone else. At least, not about this."
"That's the thing," he said. "You're not like anyone else." He reached for my hand. "Not about anything."
I didn't pull away. His hand felt big and strong around mine. I fought the urge to fall into his arms. It always felt so good there, like the home I never had.
"So what happened then?" I said.
"So we had sex. Obviously."
Lots of sex. Although I'd never seen the tape, I'd read plenty about it.
"So a few days later, the footage of it hits all these Web sites, and Brandy's gone." He made a scoffing sound. "To Hollywood, L.A., whatever. Big surprise, huh?"
"What about your friend?" I asked.
"The next time I see him, he's driving a Jag."
"Did you confront him about it?" I asked.
His voice got an edge. "You might say that."
From the look on his face, I probably didn't want to know how the confrontation ended. "So what about Brandy?" I said.
"What about her?"
"You ever see her again? I mean, I read about that thing in Beverly Hills."
He'd left her half-naked in the bathroom of some posh restaurant, then beat the crap out of the bouncers who tried to stop him from leaving.
"Yeah. About that," he said. "Her acting career? It wasn't exactly taking off."
"It seemed like it was going alright," I said.
"Yeah. She had a few parts. Mostly TV. But she wanted something bigger. So I'm at this dinner—some promo thing for a celebrity endorsement. And she corners me in the men's room."
"Seriously?"
"Yeah," he said. "And the way it looks, she's ready for a sequel."
"You're kidding."
"Only half," he said. "Because Brandy's not stupid. She knows damn well I'm not gonna fall for some secret camera thing again. But she still could use the publicity, right? So she gets half-naked and corners me."
"You did say this was in the men's room, right?"
"Yeah. And as soon as I see her, I take off. But she follows after me, making this big scene. And from what she's yelling, it sounds like we just did it right there in the stall."
I'd seen pictures of their confrontation. It didn't just sound like they'd been having sex. It looked like it too. True, Lawton had been fully clothed, but Brandy was wearing next to nothing.
"So I get the hell out of there," Lawton said, "and she's following after me, acting like I'd just done the wham-bam-thank-you-ma'am. And I see all these photographers."
"She set you up?" I said.
"Yeah. Did a good job of it too. Even hired these bouncers to keep me from leaving. She wanted a full spectacle."
"Boy, she sure got it," I said. The whole thing was still legendary. "How come you never told anyone?" I said.
"I did. I said flat-out that none of it happened. You think that got any coverage? Besides, you think anyone gives a crap?"
"They might've," I said, "if you had told the whole story."
"You think anyone wants the whole story?" His voice grew sarcastic. "Besides, she did me a big favor, right? Right after that sex tape hit, I was signed to that reality show."
Oh yeah. Hard World. He'd slept with practically every girl on the set. I felt my forehead wrinkle. Or maybe not. Was that also fake? "About that show," I said. "Was any of that true?"
"Which part?"
"You." I cleared my throat. "And all those girls?"
He'd slept with practically every girl in the household. But it wasn't the off-screen sex that had people watching. It was the fights -- not with him, over him. The show was abruptly cancelled after one girl threw another one through a plate glass window. She'd survived, but the show hadn't.
His gaze drifted from my face and down to his feet. "Yeah."
"Oh."
"You've gotta understand," he said, "everywhere I looked, someone wanted something from me. I guess I was pissed off, maybe a little tired of fighting it." He squeezed my hand. "Until you."
"Why me?"
"What do you mean?"
"Why not Amber? Or Brittney?"
He looked at me. "Is that a serious question?"
Was it? Yeah, I guess it was. "Well, take Brittney," I said. "You obviously liked her well enough a few weeks ago. And Amber too. Why not them?"
He blew out a breath. "Girls like Brittney are easy."
"That's for sure," I said.
"I don't mean that." He shook his head. "With girls like her, I know what I'm getting. And they know what they're getting too."
"Girls like what?"
"You know the type," he said. "Girls from the wrong side of town who pretend to be something they're not."
I felt my body stiffen. That didn't only describe Brittney. It described me, too. Still, I made myself ask, "What's she pretending to be?"
"I dunno. Some socialite, I guess. Take that sorority thing. Get this. She doesn't even go to college."
"Not now? Or not ever?"
"Not ever. And probably never will."
"You're kidding."
"Nope."
"How do you know?"
"One night at my place, she got totally trashed. It was just the two of us, and she started telling me how much her life sucked, and how lucky Amber is, compared to her. "
"So Amber's the real deal?"
He shrugged. "Far as I know."
"Does Amber know about Brittney, that she's just pretending, I mean?"
"Sh
e's got to," Lawton said. "I mean, they claim to be in the same sorority. And they've got this sister act thing they do."
I recalled the first night I'd seen them. I knew exactly how far that act extended. I felt my jaw clench. "That's seriously messed up."
"Yeah. I guess."
"But she told that same lie tonight," I said. "About the sorority, I mean. Why would she do that if you knew the truth?"
He shrugged. "She probably forgot. Like I said, she was pretty trashed."
"But why didn’t you call her on it?"
"Because I didn't care. I figured you wouldn’t either. I mean, c'mon, it's pathetic, right?"
In spite of the cold, I felt color rise to my cheeks. I slipped my hand out of his and started walking again.
Lawton fell in beside me. "What's wrong?" he asked.
"Nothing."
Somehow, in the last few minutes, I'd almost forgotten my vow to keep him at a distance. A very long distance. Like from Michigan to the Moon, in spite of the fact we shared a fence.
But after the things he told me, I was having a hard time keeping everything straight. Plus, I was seriously sleep-deprived. It was nearly dawn, and I'd been awake for most of the past twenty-four hours.
"Chloe?"
"Yeah?"
His voice was very quiet. "Will you give me another chance?"
Chapter 24
We were getting closer to the Parkers'. It wasn't actually my home, even if I was living there. I was just the house-sitter, dog-walker, plant-waterer, mail-getter, whatever.
When I answered the Parkers' ad, I approached it the only way I thought they'd hire me. I acted like I didn't need the money.
There was only one problem. At the time, I hadn't known about Lawton. I didn't know that we'd get together, or realize how the secrets would pile up. By now, Lawton knew it wasn't my house, but that was pretty much all he knew.
I wanted to keep it that way. And I wanted to tell him everything.
So, what did he think now? That I was some rich guy's mistress? The niece of the owners? Some surgeon's love child?
I took my agreements seriously. As part of the deal with the Parkers, I had a strict confidentiality clause. They didn't want a single person to know they were out of town, and I honestly couldn’t blame them.
And even if I wanted to tell someone, Lawton would be a terrible choice. He had baggage of his own, starting with his brother, who had a nasty little habit of breaking into people's houses when they weren't there.
But was that my only reason? I recalled what Lawton had said about Brittney. He'd practically called her a poser. In truth, I was a poser, too. Sure, I was a paid poser, but did that make it better or worse?
My head was swimming, and the silence stretched out.
Lawton's question hung in the air, getting heavier with every step. After a couple of minutes he said, "Is this your way of telling me no, that it's over?"
Up ahead, I spotted the Parkers' house, a two-story brick Tudor nestled behind a long, tree-lined driveway. It wasn't my home, but it almost felt like it. I'd been here weeks already. I was scheduled to be here most of the winter. Chucky felt like my real dog. Lawton felt like my real neighbor.
More than my neighbor, actually.
I felt like I belonged here. There was only one problem.
I didn't.
Eventually, whether I told him directly or not, Lawton would learn that for himself. When that happened, would he call me pathetic too? Would it be any less pathetic if I told him directly?
And if I did, would he tell his brother that the owners were out of town? And would his brother use that information to steal more than a glimpse at my driver's license?
There were too many questions on not enough sleep. At the foot of the Parkers' long driveway, I stopped, turning to face him.
He stopped too, looking down at me with parted lips and wary eyes
As I studied his face, I considered how easy it would be to melt into his arms and tell him everything. We could start over, no more secrets, no more barriers.
Or maybe, he'd decide I was just another Brittney. Maybe I was just another Brittney. Were we really that different?
"Chloe," he said. "I do love you."
I looked down at my feet. "I love you too. But I'm not sure it's enough."
"It's enough for me," he said. "The first time I saw you, I just knew."
I looked to the horizon. The first streaks of pink appeared in the eastern sky. "It's really late," I said.
He turned to follow my gaze. "No. It's early, remember?"
"Lawton," I said. "I'm not sure you really know me. And if I'm being really honest, that's my fault not yours. But it is what it is."
"I do know you," he said. "At least all that matters."
"No. You don't," I said. "And honestly, I probably don't know you very well either."
"You wanna know me?" he said. "Come with me tomorrow."
"Where?"
"You'll see."
I was too exhausted to plan anything for tomorrow. If I didn't get some serious sleep, I'd never make it through my shift. "Tomorrow's not good," I said.
"Then how about the next day?"
"Monday?" I said. "I'm working that day, too."
"But you don't go in 'til late, right?"
"Yeah. But I can't afford to be late anymore."
"I won't make you late," he said. "I promise."
I bit my lip, thinking about it.
"C'mon," he said. "It's my last day in town this week. Say yes."
"You're taking a trip?" I said.
"Not a vacation. Work. This event in Vegas. You wanna come?"
"Very funny," I said.
"You think I'm joking?"
"I don't know what to think, but it doesn't matter. I'm working every day 'til Friday."
"Then c'mon, say yes for Monday." His gaze met mine. "Please?"
I stared into his eyes, and something in my heart gave way. "Maybe," I said.
His eyes softened. "I'm taking that as a yes." He glanced toward the house. "Can I walk you to the door?"
I shook my head. "Nah, that's alright." Awkwardly, I gave him a little wave and headed toward the house. As I walked down the long driveway, I felt his gaze on my back, but I didn't turn around.
When I unlocked the front door and went inside, I peered through the window blinds and saw him still standing there, a dark silhouette on the quiet street. I left the window to flick on the living room lights. When I looked out the window a second time, he was gone.
I found Chucky asleep in his favorite basket.
Five minutes later, I stumbled upstairs and fell into bed, fully clothed, in the Parkers' guestroom. Just before sleep claimed me, I saw Lawton's face, looking at me the way he used to, before all the drama, all the heartache.
It would be nice to see him look at me that way again.
But would he, if he knew who I truly was?
Chapter 25
The low sound of harp music felt like a jackhammer to my brain. Groaning, I glanced at the digital clock on the nightstand.
One hour. That's how long I'd been asleep. It wasn't nearly long enough.
With muttered curses, I reached past the clock and fumbled for my cell phone, still making that dreaded sound. With bleary eyes, I studied the display.
Shit. It was Loretta, the stepmother from Hell.
I had a choice to make. Suffer a little now? Or suffer a lot later?
I did the smart thing. I answered. "Hello?"
"Don't tell me you're still asleep," she said.
"Not anymore."
"There's no need to get snippy," she said. "Not all of us can sleep the day away, you know."
I felt my jaw clench. "You do remember I work nights, right?"
"Save me the sob story," she said. "You've had a chip on your shoulder as long as I've known you. And to be perfectly honest, I'm more than a little sick of it."
Damn it. I should've suffered later. If I hung up on her now, wo
uld she forget that I'd answered? No. She wouldn’t. Loretta never forgot anything.
I forced myself to think of Josh, my thirteen-year-old brother. Unlike me, he lived in Loretta's house. He ate Loretta's food. And if I didn't pull it together fast, tonight he'd be taking Loretta's shit – insults, nitpicking, verbal abuse. And my Dad wouldn't do a damn thing.
Better me than Josh.
I closed my eyes and choked out an apology. "I'm sorry."
"As far as apologies go," she said, "that was barely adequate."
If she didn’t like mine, she should've seen Brittney's.
"I'm sorry for that too," I said.
"Are you being sarcastic?"
Was I? Probably. Should I apologize for my apology? Damn it. I should've let it go to voicemail. My body might've been awake, but my mind was still out cold.
"Are you still there?" she said. "You fell back asleep, didn't you?"
"No, I'm still here."
"If you say so."
What the hell was that supposed to mean? What did she think? That she was talking to a recording?
Still, in a lame attempt to sound friendly, I made myself smile as I said, "Is there a particular reason you called?"
"Are you laughing at me?" she said.
"No. I'm not laughing at anything. I was smiling into the phone, just like you told me the last time we talked."
"Alright, whatever." She gave a loud sigh. "I'm just checking in about Thanksgiving. You are still bringing the dessert right?"
"Wait a minute," I said. "I thought I was bringing a salad?"
"Oh for God's sake," she said. "Not this again."
"Not what again?"
"Don't be dense." With another sigh, she pulled out her overly patient voice and spoke very slowly. "Yes, I did ask you to bring a salad, but you pitched such a fit that I switched the menu around just for you."
"So I'm bringing the dessert?"
"That's what I said, wasn't it?"
I rubbed my eyes. She was doing this on purpose. I just knew it. "Okay," I said. "What kind of dessert? Pie? Cake? Something else?"
"Look, you've got one thing to bring," she said. "Me? I've got a whole meal. Is it really that much trouble to figure out the dessert on your own? Or do you want me to send you a recipe book too?"
Rebelonging (Unbelonging, Book 2) Page 8