Rastor (Lawton Rastor Book 2) (18 page)

I opened the front door, and there she was, dressed in jeans and a basic blue sweater. I gave the sweater a quick glance. No lacy tank-top for me, huh?

Damn it. Stop being a dick. She looks great, and you damn well know it. Shit, she could be wearing a dirty sweatshirt, and you'd still be all over her.

Dumb-ass.

At her feet, Chucky was spazzing out, just like he always did. He lunged toward me, whining and pawing at my legs. For some stupid reason, it made me feel better. Because it was distraction? Or because it was nice to know that
someone
was dying to see me?

I crouched beside him. "Hey Buddy," I said, ruffling his fur. "I know what
you
want." I stood and pulled out the bag of doggie treats. When I shook it, Chucky went so nuts that I almost smiled in spite of my shitty mood. I pulled some treats from the bag and crouched down to give him some.

I glanced up and saw Chloe watching me. When our eyes met, I managed to say, "I'm glad you're here."

She gave me an odd look. "Is something wrong?"

Now, that was a funny question. Maybe I should ask
her
the same thing – except she wasn't a big fan of questions, was she? I stood and brushed Chucky's crumbs off my jeans. "Nope."

She glanced toward the street and said, "Still up for a walk?" She hesitated. "Or maybe you wanna do it another day? I mean, if this is a bad time for you–"

"It's not. Wanna come in?"

She glanced down at Chucky, who was still spazzing. "I'd like to come in, but do you care if we walk first?"

"Nope." I held out my hand, palm up.

She eyed the palm, and her eyebrows furrowed.

What now? She didn't
want
me to walk her dog? I felt my jaw clench. Why? Had the other guy done it already?

Yeah, right. A guy like that? He wouldn't be walking her dog. He'd be pounding her pussy.

At the image, I felt a murderous rage sweep over me. Trying to shove it down, I said, "Leash?" When she still didn't hand it over, I made a sound of impatience. "Unless
you
want to take him."

"Oh," she stammered. "Sorry." She handed me the leash, and as she did, our fingers brushed. I sucked in a quiet breath, wondering where those fingers had been.

Damn it. Bishop was right. I
was
losing it. I reminded myself that I didn't know anything, not for sure, and if I didn't get a grip now, I'd be blurting out accusations that I couldn't take back.

I strode forward, shutting the door behind me. "Let's go," I said, walking past her. When she joined me on the walkway, I kept on going, striding through the open front gate and onto the sidewalk, with Chloe walking beside me.

The day was cool, but sunny, with a light breeze. Some might call it a beautiful day. Not me. Not now. Chloe and I headed out on the usual route, following Chucky, who lunged forward like he always did.

For a long, awkward time, Chloe said nothing, and neither did I. We did that sometimes, just walked without talking. Normally, it was alright, nice even. Not today. With every step, things got more tense.

Or maybe that was just me.

On the next block over, I couldn’t stop myself from saying, "So, you got your call last night, huh?"

She gave me a sideways glance. "What call?"

Great. So now she was playing dumb? Screw that. "Never mind," I told her. "Forget it."

Her steps faltered. "Oh," she said, before picking up the pace again. "You mean that business call?"

"Yeah." I heard the sarcasm in my own voice. "The business call."

"You don't believe me?"

"I never said that."

"But you're not saying you
do
, either." She sounded insulted.

Hey, she should put herself in
my
place. See how insulted she'd feel then.

I shrugged. "What do you want me to say?"

"I don't want you to say anything." She stomped forward, not looking at me. "Not if you're gonna be like that."

Oh, so
she
was the victim now? Yeah, whatever.

"Alright," I said, like I didn't give a shit either way. "If that's what you want." I kept moving, but said nothing else. Hey, at least I tried. It was more than I could say for her.

We plowed on like that for maybe five or ten more minutes. I kept my mouth shut and eyes straight ahead, wondering what would happen when the walk ended. We'd been planning to spend the day at my place. Now, I just couldn’t see it.

There was no way I could pretend that nothing was wrong. And worse, there was no way to ask her what I needed to know – not without insulting the hell out of her. And if I was wrong…?

Shit, I'd better be. Hey, I'd been wrong before, right?

Something squeezed at my heart. Yeah. I had. But I'd lost her, anyway.

The best thing now, I decided, was to keep my mouth shut and see what played out. Who knows? After some sleep or something, I might see things differently. Maybe I was just missing something.

Yeah, I was. My sanity.

Chloe's voice, softer now, broke into my thoughts. "You're mad about that call last night, aren't you?"

When it came to things I was "mad" about, yeah, that was part of it. But overall, it was pretty low on the list. I shrugged, but said nothing.

"Okay." Chloe blew out a shaky breath. "You know I'm just staying in that house, right?"

Yeah, but that's
all
I knew. I nodded and kept on moving.

"Well," she continued, "that call last night. It was from the home-owner, just some financial thing that couldn’t wait."

Sure it was.

"At midnight," I said, not bothering to hide my doubts.

"It wasn't
quite
midnight," she said in that teasing tone of hers, the one that normally made me smile no matter what.

But this time, it didn't. I kept on moving. "Uh-huh. And how about this morning?"

"What about this morning?"

"Forget it," I muttered.

I felt a tug on my wrist and looked to see Chucky straining against his leash. In front of us, a chipmunk made a break for it, running just out of Chucky's range. Chucky went nuts, lunging toward it for like five whole seconds, until he spotted a big gray housecat sitting on the other side of the street.

Chucky froze, and then started barking his head off, acting like he'd chew the cat up and spit it out, if only the leash weren't holding him back. The cat looked at him like, "Yeah, sure you would."

Out of habit, I looked to Chloe. We were still walking, and she was smiling down at her dog. I loved that smile, but today, all it did was piss me off – because everything was pissing me off.

When she looked to me again, she was still smiling. I didn't smile back. I couldn't. Not today. Not today.

And then I saw something else – something that made me stop dead in my tracks. Already, we'd circled back to Chloe's place. Until this moment, I hadn't really noticed. But now, I did. And I didn't like what I saw.

In Chloe's driveway was a familiar black Mercedes.

The douchebag – he was back. And he was standing on Chloe's front porch.

The guy wore the same sort of flashy business suit that he'd been wearing the last time I'd seen him. In one hand, he held a briefcase. In the other was a large manila envelope.

As for Chucky, he'd given up on the cat, and was now lunging toward a group of senior citizens who were power-walking toward us. I held Chucky firm and turned my attention back to the douchebag.

He was just standing there on Chloe's porch, looking around like he was expecting someone. Who? Chloe?

Funny, this was the third time I'd seen him, but it was the first time I'd actually seen him when Chloe was around. I glanced toward her, wondering what she'd say now.

"Hey, that's my uncle. Wanna meet him?"

"Look, my landlord's here."

Or maybe I'd get really lucky, and she'd say,
"Who the hell is that creep? Can you run him off for me?"

But she didn't say any of those things. Instead, she said, "I'll be right back." Without waiting for a response, she turned and started jogging down the long driveway.

Watching her go, I felt my blood begin to boil. I didn't know who the guy was, exactly. But I knew
what
he was. His words from earlier rang in my memories.

"What about nice girls? If you like 'em sweet, I got them, too."

Chloe was a nice girl.

Supposedly.

I stood, watching as she hurried up to the front porch and started talking with the guy. I couldn't hear a damn thing they were saying, but the conversation looked friendly enough. They talked for maybe a minute before I saw Chloe glance in my direction.

Following her gaze, the guy turned to look, and I knew the exact moment he spotted me, because he practically jumped out of his skin.

It almost made me smile. So, he wasn't happy to see me? Yeah, that made two of us, except in my case, I wanted to kill him.

Slowly.

He turned and exchanged a few more words with Chloe before giving me another quick glance. I glared over at him, not bothering to hide my hostility.

A minute later, they were still talking, and I was still standing there like a dumb-ass, baby-sitting Chloe's dog. How the hell had it come to this?

I glanced down at Chucky. He'd given up on the power-walkers and was now lying across my tennis shoes, staring up at the clouds. Talk about a contradiction. The dog was cute, and my life was fucked.

When I looked up again, the douchebag was handing Chloe that big envelope. She took it and peered inside, sneaking a nervous glance in my direction. The way it looked, she wasn't happy I was watching.

Too fucking bad.

She reached into the envelope and pulled out its contents. I froze. It was cash. A big wad of it. She rifled through it, as if counting the bills. When she finished, she looked up and gave the guy a big, friendly smile.

Just what the hell was the money for?

I had some ideas, but none I wanted to think about. What the hell was I doing here? What the hell was
she
doing there? I took a good, long look at the house – a house that way too pricey for a waitress in her twenties. I took a good, long look at Chloe – a girl with the perfect mix of sweetness and sex.

I took a good, long look at her dog, still flopped across my shoes. Was he just a prop for whatever was going on here?

No. She loved the dog. That much was obvious. But did she love me? And even if she did, what did that mean? I knew she had secrets, but somehow, I'd convinced myself they were simple things, like an embarrassing parent or some weird food allergy.

Hell, I was hiding something like that myself.

On her porch, she was still talking to the douchebag. As I watched, she rolled up the cash and stuffed it into the front pocket of her jeans.

Well, at least she didn't stuff it into her bra.

This time.

She was still smiling when she handed the guy back his envelope, now empty. He pulled out a shiny gold pen and handed it to her. She signed some slip of paper and handed it back.

And then, Chloe laughed. As I watched, she turned and pointed straight at me. For some reason, I didn't like it. I looked at the douchebag. The way it looked, he wasn't liking it either.

Why? Because I was still standing here?

What a dumb-ass. Didn't the guy know? He was lucky I was standing in the same spot, because I'm pretty sure that if I took one single step, I wouldn't stop until I was on Chloe's front porch, beating his sleazy ass until he stopped moving.

Finally, the guy turned and hurried back to his car. As I watched, he got inside, backed out of the long driveway, and drove off at probably double the speed limit. From my spot on the sidewalk, I turned and watched him until he disappeared from sight. On his car, I saw no license plate.

How convenient.

A moment later, Chloe was back, looking happy and a lot more relaxed than before.

Well, that made one of us.

She gave me a smile. "Sorry about that."

I didn't smile back. I turned and gave her house good, long look. What exactly was the house for? Business? Or pleasure? Or a sick combination of both?

Chloe's voice broke into my thoughts. "Ready to finish our walk?"

Fuck that. I was ready for
something
, alright. For starters, I'd be getting some answers. I turned to face her. "First, tell me something. What's the money for?"

She stared up at me, like she didn't understand the question. When I said nothing else, she looked down at Chucky, who was still flopped over my feet, looking ready for a nap.

After a long moment, Chloe lifted her chin and said, "I don't really like the tone of your question."

Fine by me. I had plenty more where that came from. "Alright," I said. "Then how about this one? Who do you live with?"

She shook her head. "What?"

"It's a simple question, Chloe."

"I already told you, I don't live with anyone."

I pointed toward the place she called home. "So that's
your
house."

"No," she said through gritted teeth. "And I've already told you that."

"Uh-huh." I made a forwarding motion with my hand. "Go on."

"With what?"

"Your explanation."

"What's gotten into you?" she said. "It's a job. That's what the money's for. There. You happy?"

I was a lot of things right now, but happy wasn't one of them.

Chloe threw up her hands. "What do you want me to say? That this house is beyond my price range?" Her voice rose. "Well, obviously it is. Is that what you wanted to hear?"

Her skin was flushed, and her breathing was unsteady. I looked down and eyed the wad of money, bulging out of her front pocket. How much was in there? Hundreds? Thousands?

I tried to keep my voice level. "All I want to hear is the truth."

She reached up to rub the back of her neck. She glanced toward the house and said in a quieter voice, "Can we talk about this somewhere else?"

Where? Her place? I gave it a quick glance. There it was, just an easy walk down the driveway. But no. She couldn't mean that, because for some reason,
her
house was off limits. For the millionth time, I wondered, why was that?

I gave something like a shrug. "If that's what you want." I turned away, and Chucky jumped up, as if ready to get moving again. I knew the feeling. I started walking, and Chloe joined me.

She didn't say anything, and neither did I. We passed at least a dozen houses without speaking. The silence felt like powder-keg, ready to explode any second. Or maybe that was just me. I kept telling myself to stop thinking the worst. But Chloe was making it so damn hard.

All I wanted was the truth. Maybe the douchebag
was
her uncle. And maybe what's-his-name from this morning was just a salesman. And maybe the house was off-limits because why? She had a dozen horny roommates who'd jump me if they had the chance?

Yeah, it was that ridiculous. But it was better than the other stuff rattling around in my head.

Up ahead, I spotted my own house. When we got there, would Chloe come inside, like we'd planned? Shit, did I even want her to?

Damn it. I did. How messed up was that?

I gripped Chucky's leash and tried like hell to sort everything out. It did no good. My thoughts were still raging when we reached my front door.

I opened it up, but made no move to go inside. She'd promised me an explanation. So far, I'd gotten nothing. Yeah, it was about what I'd expected.

I turned toward her and held out the leash. If she wanted to leave, I wasn't going to stop her. Not this time. Silently, she took it from my hand, but made no move to turn away.

Instead, she put her hands on her hips and said, "Lawton, what the hell is your problem?"

Well, that was rich. "
My
problem?"

Just then, Chucky made a break for it, bolting into my house, dragging the leash behind him. I didn't bother to look. I was still looking at Chloe.

She made a sound of frustration. "Chucky!" she yelled. "Damn it."

Looking at her, watching her, thinking of her with someone else, it was making me crazy – so crazy that I couldn't stop myself from saying exactly what was on my mind.

"Wanna know what my problem is?" I said. "Alright, here it is. When I think of someone else holding you, touching you–" my voice caught. "–being with you in the ways I'm with you, it makes me want to tear their fuckin' throat out."