Rebelonging (Unbelonging, Book 2) (9 page)

She lifted a bare shoulder. "Whatever you
say."

"And for God's sake," Lawton said, "put on
some fucking clothes, will ya?"

Her lips formed a pout. "But they're dirty,"
she said. "And besides, it took her
forever
to get
here."

I was shaking. This was a bad dream. It had
to be. Except, in my nightmares, it was usually
me
in my
underwear – standing at some bus stop, or maybe in the mall. That
was nothing compared to this.

Lawton gave Brittney a warning look. "You've
got five seconds," he told her.

"Oh alright. Fine." She looked to the ceiling
and mumbled, "I'm here to apologize."

"In your underwear?" I said. "Yeah. Nice
story."

"Brittney," Lawton said in a low warning
tone, "you can do better than that."

Already I had heard enough. I'd seen enough
too. More than enough actually. Brittney went for the clean-shaven
look. All over.

"Don't bother." I gave Brittney the most
dismissive look I could muster before turning away. "I don't want
your apology."

"Wait," Brittney said.

Against my better judgment, I turned
around.

She turned to Lawton. "If she doesn't
want
me to apologize, our deal still counts, right? I mean,
because I tried. And she said 'no.' You saw that, right?"

Oh, that was rich. Suddenly I didn't care if
she was nearly naked or wearing a clown suit. I wanted an apology,
and I wanted it now.

I pushed past Lawton and stormed into the
house. I stopped in front of Brittney. "On second thought," I said,
"I'd just love an apology." I crossed my arms. "And I sure hope
it's a good one. Because unlike some people, I've got
standards."

Her lips pursed. "Hey, I've got standards
too."

"Yeah, except yours are too low to measure."
I turned to Lawton. "A few hours ago, wanna know what I caught her
doing?" My voice rose. "Boning my boss in the back seat of his
car."

"Hey!" Brittney said. "We weren't boning. We
were doing other stuff."

"Whatever." I turned back to Lawton. "So for
your sake, I hope you wore a damn condom." I made a hard, scoffing
sound. "You know what? On second thought, I hope you didn't.
Because you deserve whatever this skank gives you."

Lawton's face crumpled. "Baby." With two long
strides, he closed the distance between us. He reached for my hand.
"I didn't wear anything."

I snatched my hand away. "How nice for
you."

"Because," he said, "I didn't have to. She's
only here for one thing."

Yeah, and it was pretty obvious what
that
was. "Exactly," I said.

"Not that." He turned toward Brittney. "She's
here," he said, speaking very slowly and clearly, "to tell you how
very,
very
sorry she is."

I snatched my hand away. "In her underpants?
Do I look stupid to you?"

With a muttered curse, Lawton strode over to
the front closet. He reached to the top shelf and pulled out a navy
stadium blanket. He hurled it at Brittney. She didn't move to catch
it. The blanket hit her torso and slid to the floor.

"Cover up," he said. "Or get out. Your
choice."

With a scowl, Brittney leaned over to pick up
the blanket, taking her sweet time. With the same languid motion,
she stood and draped the blanket loosely around her shoulders,
covering next to nothing.

I pointed to her pelvis. "I think you missed
a spot."

With a huff, she tightened the blanket around
herself, leaving only her bare legs exposed. She gave me a smirk.
"Prude."

I gave her a smirk right back.
"Squid-fucker."

Brittney turned to Lawton. "Did you hear what
she called me?"

Lawton gave her a cold look. "Like I care,"
he said. "Now, go on. Apologize. Chloe's waiting."

"Oh alright." Brittney blew out a breath and
looked vaguely in my direction. Her voice was a bored monotone as
she said, "I'm sorry about that little joke."

I stared at her. "A joke?"

She rolled her eyes. "You know. The prank.
With Joey and Paul."

Joey and Paul? The guys in the ski masks? So
that
was their names?

Lawton's voice was tight. "That was no
prank."

"Aw c'mon," Brittney said. "Yes, it was. Just
a little joke. No big deal." She turned to me. "Go on, tell him.
You thought it was funny. Right?"

"Funny?" I said. "So let me get this
straight. Two masked men try to throw me in a trunk, and you call
that a fucking joke?"

She shrugged. "At least
I
have a sense
of humor. Unlike
some
people."

"Gee," I said, "maybe
some
people
don't like getting dragged away in the middle of the night. Maybe
some
people are funny like that. Maybe
some
people
aren't totally fucking nuts!"

"Hey, you're the one who's crazy," she said.
"It wasn't the middle of the night. It was like, what, nine?" She
turned to Lawton. "See? She's making it sound ten times worse than
it was."

Lawton's gaze narrowed. At his side, his
hands were fisted so tight that the corded muscles in his forearms
looked hard as granite.

Brittney took a small step backward, but then
quickly recovered. She tossed her long blonde hair over one
shoulder and said, "So like I told you, it's no big deal."

"And like I told
you
," Lawton said,
"it
is
a big deal. A very big deal. And if you were some
guy, you'd be getting a lot worse than the chance to beg Chloe for
forgiveness."

"Hey," she said. "No one said anything about
begging." She threw back her shoulders. "Brittney Adams doesn't beg
for anything."

"Not even car nookie?" I said.

She gave me a look. "It wasn't nookie." She
turned to Lawton. "You believe me, right?"

"What I believe," he said, "is that you're
supposed to be apologizing."

She pursed her lips and turned back to me.
"Alright. I
guess
I'm sorry. But seriously, it's no big
deal. In my sorority, we do that sort of thing all the time."

"Your sorority kidnaps people?" I said.
"Seriously?"

With a little huff, Brittney turned to
Lawton. "See? She's doing it again. She's making it sound worse on
purpose, just to make me look bad."

Lawton gave her a murderous look. "You want
to do a shitty job at this, fine." He pointed toward the door. "Get
the fuck out. Now."

"But I'm trying to explain," Brittney said.
"She won't let me."

He crossed his arms and spoke very slowly.
"Try harder."

With an eye roll, she turned to face me.
"What we do," she said, "is steal their mascots. Swipe 'em for a
day or two." She gave Lawton a pleading look. "But we always return
them. It's no big deal. See?"

"No," he said. "I don't see."

"But it was just a joke," she said. "I don't
get why everyone's freaking out about it." She adjusted the blanket
and gave a dramatic sigh. "But just because you asked, I apologized
anyway. So are we good now or what?"

I turned to Lawton. "So this was
your
idea?"

He pushed a hand through his hair. "Yeah,
but—" He gave Brittney a hard look. "It was supposed to go a lot
better."

Brittney threw back the blanket, and tapped
her bare foot against the floor. She gave me a half-hearted look.
"So you do accept my apology or what?"

"Hell no," I said. "That was the worst
apology, ever."

"Hey, it was my first one," she said. "I
thought I did pretty good." She turned to Lawton. "Didn't I?"

He crossed his arms. "No."

Staring at her, I felt my gaze narrow. "Just
how long have you been here, anyway?"

She hesitated a split second before giving
Lawton a long smoldering look. "Hard to say. We kind of lost
track."

"That's it," he told her. "Get out."

"But I'm not dressed!" Brittney said.

"Whatever. Keep the blanket. Just get
out."

"But I don't have my car," she whined.

Lawton reached into his jeans pocket and
pulled out a cell phone. He tapped out a quick message, and barely
a moment later, there was a knock at the front door. Lawton strode
toward it and flung it open. A uniformed driver stood at the
ready.

"Take her wherever," Lawton said.

The driver glanced in my direction. "Yes
sir."

"Not
her
," Lawton said. He pointed
toward Brittney. "
Her
."

Oh God, how humiliating was this? He
literally had so many girls, the driver was losing track.

"Of course," the driver said with a
surprisingly straight face.

With Brittney protesting all the way, the
driver hustled her, blanket and all, outside into a dark SUV.
Lawton and I watched silently as it pulled down the drive and out
the front gate.

From somewhere upstairs, I heard a male voice
say, "Well, that went good."

I glanced up and spotted Lawton's brother,
lounging against the bannister. He wore dark sweatpants and no
shirt, revealing a torso that might've made my mouth water if I
were some other girl in some other place. His short, dark hair was
mussed, like he'd just crawled out of bed.

I gave him a dirty look. "Eavesdropping
again?"

"No. Trying to sleep." Absently, he scratched
his lean stomach. "For all the good it did."

I rolled my eyes. "Oh, I'm soooo sorry if we
ruined your beauty sleep."

Looking up the stairway, Lawton's eyebrows
furrowed. "This is a private conversation," he said.

"Private, your ass," Bishop said. "Bet half
the neighborhood heard."

"Fuck off," Lawton said, and then glanced
quickly at me. "Sorry."

Bishop looked toward the front door, now
closed. "Told you that was a bad idea." He shrugged. "But women,
what do you expect?"

"That's it." I threw up my arms. "I'm outta
here."

"Hey, don't leave on my account," Bishop
said. "I'm heading back to bed."

"Yeah, you do that," Lawton said in a tone of
forced patience. He reached up to rub the back of his neck, where
the muscles were corded into tight knots.

When I glanced again at the stairway, Bishop
was gone.

I cupped my hands around my mouth and yelled,
"I hope you sleep like crap!"

No answer.

Muttering, I turned away.

"Chloe," Lawton said. "Don't leave."

Ignoring him, I marched to his front door and
flung it open.

"You're not walking," he said.

I turned to glare at him. "We already had
this discussion."

"At least let me drive you," he said.

"No."

"Alright, then I'm walking with you."

I knew it was smart. But I didn't feel like
being smart. I'd been stupid for weeks. Why stop now? "No, you're
not," I said, turning away.

I strode out his front door and didn't look
back. But as I reached the front gate, I felt that certain
something, eyes on my back. I stopped. Reluctantly, I turned
around. And there he was, Lawton, a few paces behind me.

"What are you doing?" I said.

"Making sure you get home okay."

With a huff, I turned back around and started
walking again. But after about a block, I couldn't stand it
anymore. I stopped again and turned around. He was still a few
paces behind me. "You don't need to do this," I told him.

"Yes," he said, giving me a serious look. "I
do."

"But it's creeping me out."

"Why?"

"Because I don't like someone walking behind
me."

"Then I'll walk with you," he said. "But
you're not walking back alone."

I glanced around, taking in our surroundings.
Between the street lights, the sidewalk was dark, cast in the
shadows of the tall trees that lined the residential street. I
crossed my arms. "Fine. Whatever. But it doesn't change
anything."

Lawton strode forward, joining me on the
quiet sidewalk. For a couple of minutes, we walked in silence. The
night air was freezing, and I tried not to shiver. I slid a glance
in his direction.

He didn't even have a coat. He was being
stupid. But what did I care?

I shouldn't care.

"I want to tell you something," he said.

I kept my voice disinterested. "What?"

"I know you don't want to hear it," he said,
"but I do love you, and I'm so fucking sorry."

Something squeezed at my heart. I blinked
hard and kept on walking. He was right. I didn't want to hear it.
And I wanted to hear it a million times over.

I was a mess. I clamped my lips shut to keep
from saying something regrettable either way.

With something like a sigh, Lawton bridged
the silence and continued. "Which is why you deserve to know why I
flipped out on you."

Silently, I kept walking at a steady pace,
ignoring the unsteady beating of my heart.

He
had
flipped out. Sure, almost
anyone would be mad if they thought their girlfriend was planning
to trick them into making a sex tape. But he'd taken mad to a whole
new level.

He'd gone through my stuff. He'd treated me
like trash. He'd tricked me into his basement and locked me down
there for hours.

As if taking my silence as an invitation,
Lawton continued. "A few years ago, right after that first fight
video went vial, I met this girl."

Lawton met a lot of girls. No surprise,
considering all his claims to fame. He'd made his money through
prizefighting, the kind with bookies, beer, and bimbos. It wasn't
hard to imagine what kind of girl he was talking about now.

But I didn't need to imagine. I knew exactly
who he was talking about – Brandy Blue, the girl who starred with
him in that sex tape.

"It was before that reality series," he said.
"But I was starting to make a name for myself. Then there was the
money." He paused. "Growing up, I never had any, you know? But it
was starting to roll in. Lots of it. At least compared to what I
had before."