Rastor (Lawton Rastor Book 2) (26 page)

I looked around the table. Chloe downed the rest of her wine, and Josh was grinning like he was actually having a good time. And in that moment, I knew that whatever happened, it would be totally worth it.

As for the rest of them – Chloe's dipshit of a dad, her stepmother from hell, and her grabby, lettuce-loving step-sister – I didn't care what they thought, as long they weren't giving Chloe or Josh grief.

With another glance around the table, I started talking. "It was right after this underground fight in downtown Detroit. I'd just had the worst beating of my life. Total massacre. And I'm lying there in a pool of my own blood–"

"Oh for the love of God," Loretta muttered.

"Mom!" Lauren Jane said. "Don't interrupt." She gripped my arm. "It's just getting good." She squeezed my arm tighter and said, "Go on. We're all dying to hear the rest of it."

I smiled over at Chloe. "And I look up, and I saw this girl, and she was the most beautiful thing I'd ever seen."

Next to me, Lauren Jane asked, "Who was she?"

On my other side, Josh spoke up. "It was Chloe. Wasn't it?"

I nodded. "Yup." I turned to Josh. "And you know what?"

"What?" he asked.

"She probably saved my life."

"I knew it!" Josh said.

Loretta was frowning at us. "That's some story."

Yeah. And it was all true. When I glanced at Chloe, she was smiling like she knew I was full of it, but was too polite to say so.

I held up a hand, palm out. "All true, I swear."

Lauren Jane snorted. "But you've never lost a fight in your life." She turned and announced to the whole table, "I know everything about him, probably even more than Chloe."

Yeah. Because random groping, along with whatever she read on the internet, made her some kind of expert. What a dumb-ass.

Across the table, Chloe choked back a laugh. The sound of it warmed me to the bone and made me almost forget how shitty I was feeling in every other way.

Lauren Jane gave Chloe a dirty look. "What's so funny?"

Chloe blinked. "Nothing." She patted her throat. "Chicken bone."

"But we had turkey," Lauren Jane said.

"Oh," Chloe said. "Turkey bone then."

Under the table, I felt that fucking hand grip my thigh again. I stiffened, and not in the way she wanted. It was one thing to ignore it earlier when I felt okay. But now, I was feeling less okay with every minute.

It was too damn hot in here, and a hand anywhere wasn't going to cool off anything. When the hand inched higher, I reached under the table and shoved the hand aside. I turned and gave her a warning look.

"What?" Lauren Jane whispered.

Across the table, Chloe was gathering up the dessert dishes. Glad for the noisy distraction, I leaned closer to Lauren Jane and said under my breath. "Grab me again, and you'll be wearing that gravy I just ate."

She froze, looking surprised and more than a little insulted. Yeah, whatever.
She
was the skank groping her step-sister's date.

After a long moment, she whispered, "How about the picture? Still wanna see it?"

Fuck no. I didn't want to see it. I turned away without answering.

With a sound of irritation, Lauren Jane announced, "I'm bored."

Loretta spoke up. "Then maybe you can do the dishes."

"But I don't wanna do the dishes," Lauren Jane whined. "I know. Make Chloe do it." She turned to Chloe. "I mean, you're used to it, right?"

What the hell? No. That wasn't going to happen. And besides, the clock wasn't just ticking. It had run out. If we didn't leave now, it would be Chloe driving
me
, and not the other way around.

I pushed back my chair and said, "Sorry, but Chloe and I have to get going."

Loretta frowned. "Why?"

"Prior engagement," I said. "A thing at the hospital. You understand, right?"

I knew exactly what she'd make of it. She'd assume it was some charity thing and then use that assumption to make herself feel important. I knew the type.

Sure enough, Loretta said, "Oh. Of course."

Chloe's dad pushed back his chair and stood. "I guess we'll let you two cowpokes head on down the trail, then."

Loretta slammed down her wine glass. "Oh for Heaven's sake, Dick. Enough already!"

He gave her a blank look. "What?"

I looked to Chloe. "You ready?"

She glanced at Josh, who was still smiling. She glanced at Loretta, who was glaring at her dad. She glanced at her dad, who had sat back down and was reaching for more dessert. She glanced at Lauren Jane, who was scrolling through her phone, probably looking for that stupid bikini picture.

Shit, for all I knew, it was a full beaver shot, minus the bikini.

"Lauren Jane!" Loretta said. "For the last time, no phones at the table."

Lauren Jane mimicked her mother. "No phones at the table."

"Young lady," Loretta said. "Are you mocking me?"

Chloe, looking amused as hell, turned to me and said, "Yup, I'm ready." Looking to Josh, she asked, "Wanna walk us out to the car?"

At the table, the argument between Loretta and her daughter was heating up. We heard words like "old bag" and "ungrateful snot," followed by a threat to cut Lauren Jane's allowance.

It should've been funny, but it mostly pissed me off. All this time, Chloe had been hurting for money. Where was
her
allowance?

I had to ask. "She
still
gets an allowance?"

Chloe shrugged. "Maybe not for long."

By the time we reached the front door, the argument had turned into a wrestling match, with Lauren Jane gripping the phone with both hands while Loretta tried to pry it away. If there was any justice, the phone
did
have a beaver shot, and Loretta was about to get a good eyeful.

As sick as I felt, I had to smile. It would serve both of them right. As I opened the door, I turned to see Chloe's dad shoveling more cobbler into his face, not bothering to say goodbye to the daughter who brought it.

What a tool.

When we reached the driveway, Chloe hugged Josh goodbye, and I shook his hand, man-to-man.

He grinned over at us. "Best Thanksgiving, ever."

I glanced toward the house. If I had anything to do with it, it would be the last Thanksgiving dinner either Chloe
or
Josh ate at
that
place. But now, I had to get the hell out of here, and fast. My skin felt funny, and my tongue was getting that thick feeling again. Somehow, I knew that water wouldn't be solving anything this time around.

When we pulled out of the driveway a minute later, Chloe was smiling in the way I loved best. "You know what?" she said. "You're right. That
was
fun."

I hit the accelerator. "Told ya."

She laughed. "Oh my God. That whole story about how we met–" She shook her head. "Where'd you come up with that? I can't decide if I should kiss you or scold you for lying."

"Baby," I said, "I'm a lot of things, but a liar isn't one of them."

"Yeah, right," she teased.

In that moment, I wanted to tell her everything – how we met, how I'd been thinking about her for years, and how, if she just gave us another chance, I wouldn't screw it up this time. But I couldn’t tell her, because my lips felt funny, and I knew that if I tried to tell her anything now, it would come out all wrong.

So instead, I pushed down on the accelerator. The sooner I got to the hospital, the sooner we could sort everything out. And oh yeah, I was pretty sure I'd be needing my stomach pumped.

She turned to look out the window. "Hey Lawton. We're not running late anymore. Wanna slow it down?"

"Sorry. Can't."

"Why not?"

I didn't want to lie, especially because she'd be finding out soon enough. I tried to sound as normal as possible as I said, "Because, I figure we got about fifteen minutes to make it to the hospital."

"You weren't kidding?" she said. "You really do have plans there? Oh jeez, I'm so sorry. Why didn't you say something when I first called?"

"Because when you called, I didn't know we'd be going."

"Huh?" She turned to face me and paused. "Lawton," she said, speaking too slow for everything to be okay. "What's wrong with your face?"

Oh, shit.

I leaned over to glance in the rear-view mirror. My face was swollen so bad I could hardly recognize myself. Trying not to scare Chloe, all I said was, "Huh. That's not good."

I hit the brakes and skidded to a stop on the side of the road.

"What is it?" Chloe asked.

Things were getting fuzzy around the edges. On the steering wheel, my hands looked too big, too swollen, too strange. And my tongue felt like ten times too big for my mouth.

Staring ahead, I tried to shake my away my confusion.

Chloe's voice was panicked. "Are you alright?"

My hands slipped off the steering wheel. I tried to talk, but was having a hard time of it.

"Oh my God," Chloe said. "What's wrong?"

I leaned my head against the back of the driver's seat. Slowly, I turned to face her. She looked blurry, just like everything else around us. I struggled to get out the words. "Baby, can you drive a stick?"

We were in a private hospital room, surrounded by machines, IV stands, and the usual stuff.

From a chair beside the bed, Chloe was holding my hand. She'd been holding it for a while now, and I loved the feel of it, having her so close to me after all this time.

If I weren't so groggy, I'd be asking her to get even closer, in spite of the nurse hovering over the chart at the foot of my bed. Through the grogginess, I told Chloe, "Tell me again."

Her voice was soothing. "Tell you what?"

"You know."

"This?" She leaned close and whispered in my ear. "I love you." She paused. "But you're still in big trouble."

I focused on the first part, and forgot the second. "I love you, too. You know that, right?"

She nodded, and her eyes filled with tears. "But damn it, you are
such
an idiot."

"Please," the nurse told her yet again, "no yelling at the patient."

"I wasn't yelling," Chloe said. "Much."

I wanted to smile. Chloe had called me worse names than that over the last couple of hours. I'd been mostly out of it, but not so far gone that I hadn't heard.

Screw all the other stuff. She loved me.

I was still too damn groggy, but awake enough to realize that I was feeling almost human again. The reason for that was obvious. Over the last couple of hours, I'd gotten a bunch of shots, an IV, and yeah, unfortunately, had to have my stomach pumped.

It's not like I hadn't seen
that
coming.

The nurse checked off something on my chart and hung the clipboard at the foot of the bed. With a final warning look at Chloe, she adjusted my IV drip and left the room.

Blinking away the tears, Chloe looked down at me. "You're looking a lot better."

Better than what? How I'd looked in the rear-view mirror? If so, that wasn't saying much. Even so, I felt myself smile. "Yeah?"

"Yeah." She squeezed my hand, and the tears kept coming. "But you're still an idiot."

"Not this time," I told her. The last couple of hours were a foggy blur, and I tried to recall exactly what had happened after leaving her dad's place. The last thing I remembered was asking her to drive. "So, you know how to drive a stick, huh?"

"No. But I know how to call an ambulance." She bit her lip. "I think I forgot to lock your car."

The car was the last thing on my mind. "Eh, no biggie."

"And, uh, I might've left your keys in the ignition." She winced. "I'm sorry. Your car's probably long-gone by now."

"Don't worry," I told her. "It'll turn up. Or not."

She scooted her chair closer and leaned down so our faces were just inches apart. "You shouldn't have done that." Her voice caught. "The doctor told me you could've died."

I tried to shrug. "They always say that. Hasn't happened yet."

"Seriously," she said. "Why on Earth would you do that? It was
really
stupid." She gave me a desperate look. "And don't try to tell me you didn't know."

"I would, but like I told you, I'm not a liar."

"So why'd you do it?"

I told her the truth. "Because I couldn’t stand to see you hurt."

"You think I like seeing
you
hurt?"

"This? It's nothing."

She rolled her eyes. "Okay,
now
you're a liar."

I shook my head. "Baby, I'm not lying. Seeing you cry? Hurts way more than this."

She reached up to wipe at her eyes. And then, she gave a weak laugh. "Oh so,
now
, you tell me." She closed her eyes as if wanting to block out the memories. And for some reason, it made me close my eyes too. But then, I forgot to open them and must've drifted off again.

The next time I woke, it was dark outside. I heard a new voice – Bishop's. Silently, I turned my head and spotted him a few feet away, talking to Chloe in a quiet voice.

Trying to clear the cobwebs, I let my eyelids drift shut as I listened to the soothing sounds of their voices. The way it sounded, they were actually getting along. Now,
that
was a first.

Chloe was asking, "So how about you? Haven't
you
ever been in love before?"

I knew the answer to
that
question. Yeah, he had. And it hadn't ended so good. He almost never talked about it, but it was always there, eating him from the inside out.

Chloe's question hung in the air until Bishop said, "Yeah. Once."

"What happened?" she asked.

When he didn't answer, I opened my eyes and saw him reach into his back pocket. He pulled out his wallet. From somewhere inside, he pulled out something that I'd only seen once. It was a folded square that looked almost like a playing card.

"What's that?" Chloe asked.

Silently, he handed it over. She unfolded the card and studied the image. "Is this a tarot card?"

He nodded.

"The Fool?" she said. "Is this supposed to be you?"

He gave a humorless laugh. "No. Not if I can help it."

He was wrong. He
could
help it, and it was time for me to tell him so. Again.

For too damn long, he'd been a miserable bastard. I'd found
my
girl. It was time for him to do the same. I spoke up, hearing the grogginess in my own voice as I told him, "Damn it. For the last time, just go find her already, will ya?"

Together, Bishop and Chloe turned to look. Chloe gave me a smile that melted my heart. "Oh yeah? You're one to talk."

I wasn't following. "What do you mean?"

Moving closer, she reached out to stroke my hand. And then, she trailed her fingers higher, past my wrist and up my arm, tracing the lines and shapes of my tattoos. Suddenly, her fingers paused, stopping at a spot I knew all too well.

The spot was a circular scar, the site of an old cigarette burn, now covered in ink. I'd gotten that burn, along with a few others, on the night that Chloe and I had first met.

She looked up, meeting my gaze. Her voice was quiet. "That was you." Her fingers moved higher, tracing the outlines of another scar, almost exactly like the first. "The guy on the sidewalk."

I stared up at her, not quite sure what to say.

She knew.