Rebelonging (Unbelonging, Book 2) (10 page)

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."

"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."

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?"