Rebelonging (Unbelonging, Book 2)

by Sabrina Stark

  "Sorry," I said. "I'll bring a pie."

  "Well, I guess I shouldn't be surprised."

  "Why?"

  "Because Lauren Jane hates pie. You just love to stick it to her, don't you?"

  Lauren Jane? She had to mean Lauren, her natural daughter. But I'd never heard the Jane part before. It must be new.

  Lauren was about my age, but I had no idea what she liked, or didn't like. In truth, I barely knew the girl. She was the upstairs daughter. As for me, I'd been relegated to the basement from day one.

  "I'm sorry. I didn't know," I said. "I'll bring a cake then."

  "For Thanksgiving? What do you think this is? A birthday party?"

  My brain was foggy, but my head was pounding. For the life of me, I couldn't think of another single dessert. I was gripping the phone so tight, I feared it might shatter.

  I tried to keep my voice calm as I said, "Okay, then I'll bring a surprise."

  "Oh, I'm sure you will."

  And then, before I could respond, she hung up without saying goodbye.

  I turned off the ringer and flopped back onto the bed. For at least an hour, I stared at the ceiling, willing myself to fall back asleep. But that woman got under my skin like almost no one else.

  It didn't help that I knew she was doing it on purpose. Someday Josh would move out, and I'd be free to tell her exactly what I thought of her and all her games.

  Until then, I was screwed.

  I should be used to it by now. But somehow, I wasn't.

  Chapter 26

  I'd just drifted back to sleep when the sound of Chucky's barking jolted me awake. Groaning, I flopped onto my side and wrapped the pillow around my head, mashing it tight against my ears.

  It was no use. Even muffled, there was no ignoring it. When I heard the ding-dong of the doorbell, I hurled the pillow against the wall and stumbled out of bed.

  There was only one person it could be. Lawton.

  So much for giving me some space.

  I jumped into my rattiest sweatpants and marched downstairs, leaving a trail of profanity in my wake. By now, Chucky was going nuts, barking his furry head off and skidding across the hardwood floors as he ran from window to window.

  Grumbling, I snapped on his leash before getting within ten feet of the door. I'd learned all his tricks the hard way, and I wasn't about to fall for them again. With Chucky securely at my side, I stomped to the front door, flung it open, and bellowed, "What!"

  Erika stood, blinking in the dappled sunlight. "So, uh, is this a bad time?"

  Before I could form an answer, a furry land-rocket shot past my ankles. I looked to my hand. The leash was still there. Chucky wasn't. Instead, he was tearing full speed ahead toward the front sidewalk.

  "Chucky, you come back here!" I hollered.

  Giving Erika a frantic look, I plunged barefoot out of the entryway to sprint after him. The ground was frozen, sending shockwaves of icy jolts into the bare soles of my feet. Still, I pursued Chucky across the front yard, twice around a giant pine tree, straight through a dormant flower bed, and back toward the house.

  Halfway to the front door, he stopped long enough to let me almost reach him. But just as I leaned down to scoop him up, he gave a yip and raced toward driveway.

  I threw up my hands. "Fine! Go! See if I care!"

  Ignoring my tirade, he circled my car and skidded to a stop near the driver's side door.

  And then it hit me. My car. What was it doing here? Last time I'd seen it, it was stalled at the restaurant. Wasn't it?

  I was mentally scratching my head when suddenly Chucky's body tensed. His ears twitched, and his nose turned toward the house.

  A moment later, he took off at full speed toward Erika. She was crouching near the front entrance holding something in her outstretched palm. It looked suspiciously like a breakfast biscuit.

  When Chucky dove for the biscuit, she scooped him up, biscuit and all, and dashed into the house, slamming the door behind her.

  Wordlessly, I stalked up to the door and twisted the doorknob. It didn't budge. What the hell? I tried again. Nothing. I hollered through the door. "Hey! Erika! The door's locked. Let me in, alright? "

  A moment later, the door flew open. Erika stood with insanely messy hair and Chucky held tight at her side. "What!" she screeched, barely keeping a straight face.

  I glared at her. "Is that supposed to be funny?"

  She grinned. "Yeah. Totally. Wasn't it?"

  Probably on any other day, it would've been. Today, not so much. "You know," I said, "I'm really not in the mood for this."

  "Oh c'mon," she said. "I rescued your dog, didn't I?"

  "He's not my dog." I jostled my way inside and slammed the door behind me. My feet were numb, and the rest of me was only slightly less miserable. I looked down to see clumps of dirt lodged between my bare toes. "Stupid flower beds," I said.

  I trudged into the living room, leaving a trail of dirt behind me. Just great. I mentally added floor-cleaning to my to-do list. I sank onto the front sofa and buried my face in my hands.

  Erika flopped down on the recliner across from me. "That was your biscuit by the way."

  I looked up. "Yeah. I figured."

  "Want half of mine?" She held out a white paper bag.

  I gave it a dubious look. "Does it have bacon?"

  "Sorry."

  "That's alright." I waved the bag away. "You go ahead. Eat. Honestly, I'm not hungry, anyway."

  She reached into the bag and pulled out the biscuit. "Rough night?" she said, unwrapping it and taking a bite.

  "You have no idea." I glanced over at Chucky, settling into his favorite basket. If only I had a basket. I'd probably never come out. I returned my gaze to Erika. "So what are you doing here?" I said. "I thought you were heading back to State."

  "Yeah. I'm on the way now, actually. But I couldn't find my dorm key. You haven't seen it here, have you?"

  I groaned. "Oh crap. I'm sorry." I vaguely recalled seeing a strange key last night while rushing around getting ready for work. "I meant to call you, but…" I shook my head, not sure where to start.

  So I started at the beginning and kept going.

  When I was done, Erika sat in stunned silence. I'd just told her everything that had happened since I'd seen her last, starting with the so-called kidnapping attempt and ending with everything Lawton had told me during the walk home.

  Her mouth hung open. "And all this happened since I saw you last?"

  I nodded.

  "But that was only last night."

  "Tell me about it," I said. "So now, Lawton wants another chance. But I'm not so sure."

  She laughed. "You liar."

  "I'm not lying," I said.

  "You are, too. You're totally nuts for him."

  "Maybe. But he's a total psycho."

  "Oh, c'mon. He's not that bad. At least not the way you tell it."

  "Oh yeah?" I pulled up my shirt sleeve and thrust out my wrist. "Look." The bruises had darkened overnight, making the raw skin that much more ugly. "You believe me now?"

  Her gaze narrowed. "That asshole."

  "Exactly."

  "So," she said, "you think he'd do it again?"

  I didn't even have to think about it. "No. Definitely not."

  She leaned back in her chair and said, "Hmm…"

  "What's that supposed to mean?" I said.

  She shrugged.

  "Look," I told her, "you know how this goes. As soon as some girl thinks, 'Oh, he'd never do that again', that's when she's totally screwed."

  She raised her eyebrows. "Because?"

  "Because they always do."

  "Uh-huh," Erika said. "Except you just said he wouldn't."

  "Don't listen to me," I said. "I mean, what if I'm one of those girls."

  "Which girls?"

  I launched into a high-pitched imitation. "Sure, Bobby cheated on me like a dozen times with my sister, but I'm telling you, he's a changed man. He told me so and everything."

/>   Erika gave me a look. "Trust me. You are so not that girl."

  "Yeah? How do you know?"

  "For starters," she said, "you're not exactly the most trusting person in the world."

  "I'm not so bad."

  "Yes, you are."

  "Okay, fine. But maybe there's a good reason for that."

  "Maybe," she said. "But here's a question. When you told Lawton you were just the house-sitter, what did he say?"

  "Are you kidding?" I said. "I didn't tell him."

  She pretended to scratch her chin. "Hmmm…I wonder why that is."

  "You know exactly why," I said. "I promised the Parkers. Remember?"

  "But you told me," she said.

  "Yeah, but you're different."

  "Why?" she asked.

  "You just are."

  "As flattered as I am," she said, "there's something you need to hear."

  "What?"

  "Alright." She leaned forward in her chair. "I hate to tell you this, but you brought a lot of this on yourself."

  Chapter 27

  I stared over at her. So here, I'd spilled my guts, expecting a shoulder to cry on. But what I got was a kick to the teeth.

  "Gee," I said, "maybe I should've called Loretta. At least when she insults me, it's not exactly a surprise."

  "Yeah but Loretta's a bitch. Me? I'm just delightfully honest."

  "I wouldn’t exactly call it delightful," I said.

  "Want to hear my theory?" she said.

  "Probably not."

  "Too bad," she said. "That agreement with the Parkers? That's just your excuse."

  "For what?" I said.

  "Do I seriously need to spell this out?"

  I crossed my arms. "Apparently."

  "Alright, admit it. You liked the fact he thought this was your house."

  "Oh shut up."

  "So you passed the test. Congratulations, you fit in. You belong. Yippee for you."

  "I don't fucking believe this."

  "Hey, I'm not judging you." She grinned. "Last weekend? I told this guy I was a stripper. He totally got off on it."

  "You know what?" I said. "You're not as smart as you think you are. Did I tell you about Lawton's brother?"

  "What about him?"

  "Apparently, he has this thing for breaking and entering."

  Her eyebrows furrowed. "How do you know?"

  "Because," I said, "he broke into here once."

  She looked around. "So what'd he do? Make off with the TV? Raid the liquor cabinet?" She waggled her eyebrows. "Panty-raid?"

  "Oh stop it. Technically, he didn't steal anything."

  "So what'd he do? Break a window, smash a door? What?"

  "No, it was nothing like that. But he did look at my license."

  "Oh, heaven forbid. I hope you called the FBI."

  "C'mon, this is serious," I said. "You know where my license was? In my purse. Right here in this house. And I wasn't even home."

  "And Lawton put him up to it?"

  "Well, no," I admitted. "But still, the guy's his brother. They're related."

  She gave me a look. "Just like you and your Mom are related?"

  "Hey, I'm not my Mom."

  "Oh. I see."

  "No," I said. "I don't think you do."

  "So lemme ask you this. Does Lawton even know his brother broke in?"

  "Yeah, he knows."

  "So Lawton was the one who told you about it?"

  "No. I just overheard them talking, that's all."

  "Oh," she said. "So you were eavesdropping."

  "No. It wasn't like that."

  She shrugged. "If you say so."

  "Jeez, what's up with you today?"

  "Nothing." She crossed her arms. "If you can't handle a little truth, it's not my problem."

  "Yeah? Well, maybe instead of judging me, you should look in the mirror."

  "What's that supposed to mean?" she said.

  "You know what started all this? Our little birthday party, with that stupid movie poster."

  In the poster, a gag gift designed by Erika herself, Lawton had been shirtless with beads of sweat glistening on his bare chest and a woman's arms encircling him from behind.

  That fictional woman had my face, just like the fictional movie had its own title, Riding the Rastor. The whole thing had been a joke, right until Lawton saw the poster and assumed it was real.

  "So now my poster's stupid?" she said.

  "No," I said. "Sorry, I didn't mean that. Honest."

  "Well, what did you mean?"

  "It's just that between the poster and that stupid sex tape you brought over, well, Lawton went a little nuts when he found everything. He thought I was this crazy stalker chick looking to make a porno on the sly."

  "Well, excuse me for wanting to celebrate your birthday." She stood. "You know what? I really don't have time for this crap. Where's my keys?"

  "Crap?" I said.

  "Do you have my keys or what?"

  "Oh, so that's your big problem? You can't find your keys? Poor you."

  "What's that supposed to mean?"

  "I mean," I said, "that you have no idea what it's like to be me. Wanna know what'll happen if you lose your keys? Your parents will buy you new ones. Wanna know what happens to me when I lose my keys? I get locked out." My voice rose. "And I don't have a single fucking person I can call."

  "Yeah? That's funny," she said, "because actually, you've called me plenty of times. And my parents. Or do you pretend those are yours too?"

  I felt my face grow hot. "That's unfair, and you know it."

  "Whatever." She started walking toward the door. "You know what? Fuck the dorm keys. You're right. I'll just have my rich Mommy and Daddy bail me out like they always do."

  "Erika, c'mon. I'm sorry, alright?"

  "Why should you be sorry? You're exactly right. I wouldn’t know a real problem if it bit me on the ass."

  "C'mon. I never said that."

  "Whatever. I'm just saying, so what if you're just the house-sitter? It's not like you're Hitler, for God's sake."

  "I never said I was."

  "And if you like this guy enough to let him stick his dick in you, then you sure as shit should like him enough to be honest with him."

  With that, she opened the front door and stalked out toward her car.

  "Oh yeah?" I yelled out the open doorway. "Tell that to the guy who thinks you're a stripper!"

  Chapter 28

  After Erika peeled out of the driveway, I slammed the door, stumbled back to bed, and cried myself to sleep. By the time I woke, it was late afternoon.

  Lawton aside, the argument with Erika haunted my thoughts. We'd argued before, but never like that. It was my fault. I just knew it. I'd been crabby from the moment she showed up. It was no wonder we'd gotten into a huge, screaming fight.

  I pulled out my cell phone and gave her a call. It went straight to voicemail, and I didn't leave a message. When I apologized, I wanted to do it directly.

  About Lawton, maybe she was right. Maybe she wasn't. But I had no right to snap at her just because she'd given me an honest opinion. And in truth, I loved that poster. She'd made it herself. She'd come all the way down from college just to give it to me.

  If anyone was spoiled, it was me.

  Heading out the front door to walk Chucky, I stopped short at the sight of my car in the driveway. I vaguely recalled noticing it earlier, but with everything else going on, I hadn't done more than wonder.

  After the walk, I got Chucky settled in the house and returned to the driveway alone. Holding my breath, I settled myself into the driver's seat and turned the key in the ignition. It started on the first try.

  This had to be Lawton's doing. Other than the busboy who'd given me a ride home, Lawton was the only one who knew about my car troubles.

  I turned off the car and dialed Lawton's cell phone.

  When he answered, I said, "So, I've got this mysterious car in the driveway."

  "Yeah?" he
said. "How mysterious?"

  "Well, it looks like mine. But apparently, it can drive all by itself."

  "Hmm."

  "Even when it's broken down."

  "Or maybe," he said, "it was just a dead battery."

  "Aha!" I said. "You went and got it, didn't you?"

  "It depends," he said. "If I did, is that a good thing? Or a bad thing?"

  It was definitely a good thing. Without a car, I was hosed. Still, it made me feel a little funny to think of him retrieving my car when we weren't exactly together anymore.

  I stalled. "What if it is a good thing?"

  "Then it was all me."

  "And if it's a bad thing?"

  "In that case," he said, "blame Bishop."

  "Your brother?" I laughed. "Why him?"

  "Because he's already on your list, so I figure, eh, what's the difference?"

  "Heeeey," I said, "you're on my list too."

  "I know," he said. "And I’m trying like hell to get off it."

  "So, that's why you did it?"

  "Nope. I'd have done it anyway."

  "I've gotta ask," I said, "how'd you do it? It's not like you had my keys."

  "Long story," he said.

  "Yeah, I just bet," I said. "Still, thanks for the help. Seriously."

  "Hey Chloe?"

  "Yeah?"

  "You might wanna get a new battery."

  I winced. "Really?"

  "Yeah. The car's starting okay now, but you know how these things go. Vintage cars. They're tricky, right?"

  Vintage my ass. Old was more like it. Last winter, my entire exhaust system had gone out piece by expensive piece. But Lawton's car? That truly was vintage, all sleek lines and shiny paint. Well, until last night.

  I felt a pang at the image of his once-beautiful car. Here he had gone to a lot of trouble to retrieve my car, a total piece of crap, but he hadn't even mentioned his own. Was it still at the restaurant? Would he be able to fix it?

  My voice was quiet as I asked, "How about your car? Is it, uh—"

  "It's fine."

  "Oh c'mon Lawton," I said, "I know it's not fine. I was there. Remember?"

  "Yeah. I remember."

  "Why'd you do that?"

  "Because," he said, "it needed to be done."

  "No, it didn't."