Rebelonging (Unbelonging, Book 2) (25 page)

"Yup."

"Let me ask you something. If I had never
found out, would you still be apologizing?"

"Nope."

"And why is that?

"Because I'm not stupid."

"You really are a dick, you know that,
right?"

"Hey, have I ever denied it?"

"No. But I kind of wish you would. You really
know how to take the fun out of it."

"I'll keep that in mind."

I narrowed my gaze. "Did Lawton make you do
this? Because it seems to me, you're a little late to the whole
apology parade."

"No. And he doesn't know I'm here."

"So why
are
you?"

"Because he loves you, and I don't want to be
the one standing in the way of that."

"Don't worry," I said. "It's not you. For
starters, he thinks I'm a damn hooker."

Bishop grinned. "I think you set him straight
on that."

"Oh, shut up." I crossed my arms. "So, tell
me, why'd you do it? Why'd you go through my things?"

"You got a younger brother, right?"

I nodded.

"Let me ask you something. What would
you
do to protect him?"

I didn't even bother lying. "Just about
anything," I said.

"Well, there you go."

"But he didn't need protection from me," I
said.

Bishop only shrugged.

"How'd you get in here, anyway," I said.

"Now that, I'm not gonna answer."

"Why not?"

"Trade secret," he said.

"Oh for crying out loud. Fine, let me ask you
something else. Those guys who attacked me, what happened with
that? Why wouldn't they report you to the police?"

"Because they know better."

"And why would you do that, anyway?"

"Do what?"

"Oh for crying out loud. You undressed them.
You –"

"Technically," Bishop said, "they undressed
themselves."

I gave Bishop a dubious look.
"Willingly?"

"Sort of."

"Uh-huh," I said. "So then, you shove them in
a trunk and drop them off in a public place. And the way it sounds,
you threaten them on top of it."

"Is that a complaint?" Bishop said. "You
think we should've let it go? Pretend it didn't happen?"

"I don’t know what I think," I said.

"Want my take on it?"

"Not really."

"I'll take that as a yes," he said. "Whether
you admit it or not, you're glad we did it. For what they did, they
deserved it. So we gave it to 'em. But now that it's all done, and
some time has passed, you want the luxury of feeling bad about
it."

"I don't feel bad for them," I said.

"You're right. You don't. Not deep down. But
it makes you feel good to
think
you do."

"You're so full of it," I said.

"Hey, I'm not complaining," he said. "It's
the way it works. Some people, they do the things that need doing.
And others, they get to sit back, nice and safe, with clean hands
and a cleaner conscience." He shrugged. "I'm alright with that. And
so is Lawton."

"But you beat the hell out of them," I
said.

"No," he said. "Lawton beat the hell out of
'em. And you know damn well he could've hurt 'em a hell of a lot
worse."

"Maybe he didn't need to hurt them at all," I
said. "I mean, you guys embarrassed the crap out of them. Wasn't
that enough?"

"Lemme put it this way. You're the girl he
loves. Those guys? They scared you. They hurt you. You remember
that night, right?"

I nodded, swallowing the fear and desperation
I'd felt at the time.

"Yeah," Bishop said as if reading my mind.
"There was two of them and one of you." Slowly, he shook his head.
"Lawton couldn’t let that go. And if you don't get that, maybe you
don't know him as well as you think."

I heard myself ask, "How's he doing?"
Probably, I shouldn't care. But I did care. I cared so damn much, I
could hardly stand it.

Bishop shook his head. "Not good. But you
didn't hear it from me."

I didn't know what to say to that, so I said
nothing except a brief goodbye and headed back inside, closing the
door behind me.

Inside the house, I sat on the couch for the
longest time. Maybe Bishop was right. Maybe I didn’t know Lawton at
all. Or maybe I did, and I just didn't want to face it.

Either way, I wouldn't figure it out today. I
trudged upstairs and got ready for work.

"Guess what?" Josh said.

From the look on his face, it was obviously
good news. "You got all A's again?"

"No." He gave me an aw-shucks smile. "Yeah,
well, I did. But this is even better."

I gave Grandma a sideways glance. She hadn't
said one word about the so-called good news since I'd arrived. Her
lips were pursed as she crammed another flyer into its
envelope.

The flyer – an advertisement for some
fictional cat-training video – showed two fluff-ball kittens
surrounded by loose yarn and shredded bed pillows.

"This is bullshit," Grandma said as she
folded another flyer and crammed it, hard, into its envelope.
"Everyone knows you can't train a cat. Whoever did this flyer is a
dipshit."

As the dipshit designer – even if Grandma
wasn't aware of this fact – I felt compelled to disagree. "Sure you
can." I pointed to the promotional text. "Nine out of ten vets
agree. See?"

Grandma gave a dismissive snort. "Then
they're dipshits, too."

"Vets are never dipshits," I said.

"Yeah? Then the company's full of shit.
Probably made the whole thing up. Bet they wouldn't know a real cat
if it bit 'em on the face." She frowned. "In fact, I wish a cat
would
bite 'em on the face. Would serve 'em right."

Without thinking, I reached a hand up to my
face. When Grandma looked up, I pretended to scratch my nose.

Actually, there was no such company, and no
such product. But that was my little secret, along with the fact
that Grandma's so-called job was a sham. She refused to accept
charity of any sort, even from me.

She was a smart lady, but had no real job
skills, no car, and no driver's license or interest in getting
one.

So a couple years ago, I'd invented this
little envelope-stuffing job. It wasn't much, but it paid her rent,
and kept her entertained. Today, the entertainment seemed more of
the kill-the-graphic-designer variety.

I glanced at the flyer. "I thought you liked
cats."

"Yeah, and I like 'em too much to subject 'em
to this horseshit." She glanced down to the paper in her hand.
"Precocious to perfect, my ass."

"Hey," Josh said, "doesn't anyone care what I
have to say?"

Oh, I cared alright. But not in the way Josh
thought. He was happy. Grandma was mad. And soon, I'd be in the
middle. And there was only one person who caused this particular
dynamic.

My mom.

I turned to Josh. "Sorry," I said. "What's
your news?"

He grinned. "Mom's invited us over for
Thanksgiving."

It was official. Thanksgiving was my least
favorite holiday, ever. "Oh that's really nice," I said. "But we
already have plans."

"That's the best part," Josh said. "She said
we could do it on Friday. You know, the day after?"

I blew out a breath.
Two
days of
family fun. How did I ever get so lucky?

Josh's smile faded. "Aren't you happy?"

"Yeah. Totally." I summoned up a smile of my
own. "But you know how hectic her schedule is."

Boozing, sleeping all day, hanging out with
random losers, it was a real time sink. It didn't just keep her
away from her kids. It kept her away from gainful employment, which
was probably just fine with her.

"I mean, it sounds like fun," I said, "but we
probably shouldn’t get our hopes up."

"She's not gonna cancel this time," Josh
said. "She promised."

I gave a small nod. "That's good."

"Remember that last apple pie?" Josh said.
"Oh man, that was the best, ever."

I nodded. I remembered the pie perfectly. I
was the one who made it. Mommy Dearest? She was too busy being
passed out on the kitchen floor. It was three o'clock in the
morning, and I'd come home from waitressing find her lying there
with a half-empty bottle of apple schnapps.

It would be funny if it weren't so
pathetic.

"Maybe she'll make it again," Josh said as he
got up from his seat and headed off toward the bathroom."

"Or maybe," Grandma muttered after the door
closed behind him, "some cat'll chew her face off first."

I felt myself nod. Better hers than mine.

On my way out, Grandma handed me a huge white
envelope containing something flat and stiff. "Just in case," she
said.

I looked down. "Just in case what?"

"In case they don't pay. You know, the
house-sitting people."

"But they did pay," I said.

"Yeah, but you got another payment due next
week, right?"

I felt my eyebrows furrow. "Yeah?"

"So, if they don't pay, you give 'em
that."

I made a move to open the envelope.

"Hey, not in front of the kid," Grandma
said.

I glanced past her, into the cottage, where
Josh still was still sitting at the kitchen table. He caught my eye
and grinned. The way it looked, Grandma's secret message wasn't as
secret as she seemed to think.

"I'll open it when I get back," I assured
her.

"Good girl."

When I pulled into the Parkers' driveway
twenty minutes later, I couldn't wait a second longer. I opened the
envelope and pulled out what was inside.

As I looked down, I couldn't help but
smile.

It was a single sheet of lined notebook
paper. Pasted crookedly across the sheet were a series of capital
letters, obviously cut from the local newspaper.

Unable to resist, I read the ransom note
aloud in my best tough-guy voice. "Pay up, or the dog gets it."

I was still laughing when I walked into the
house.

It was just two days before Thanksgiving and
almost a month since I'd seen Lawton. My days hadn't changed much,
but at least I had other things to worry about.

The Parkers' next payment never arrived, just
like Grandma predicted. And even after multiple phone calls, I
hadn't heard a single word back from either Mrs. Parker or her
so-called financial manager.

In a desperate bid to forget all my troubles,
I loaded up Chucky and took him to the park. It was freezing cold
and gloomy as hell, but it was better than sitting around someone
else's house moping all day. Or at least, if nothing else, it was a
change of scenery.

I was walking Chucky around the nature trail
when I spotted a familiar form up ahead. My heart flipped, and my
breath caught. I'd recognize him anywhere, even in the dark
long-sleeve shirt and silky black running pants.

Lawton. He wasn't walking. And he wasn't
running. In fact, he wasn't moving at all. He stood, utterly still,
in the middle of the trail.

I stopped in my tracks. He met my gaze, his
expression anguished. I glanced over my shoulder, back toward my
car. I could scurry back to it and leave right now. But then what?
I'd have to face him sooner or later. So I squared my shoulders and
marched forward.

His dark hair was a tousled mess, and his
eyes were haunted as he watched me approach. He said nothing, but
his gaze said it all.

Desperation radiated off him in waves. I'd
seen him in virtually every scenario, not just in person, but on
the Internet too. I'd seen him flirty. I'd seen him sexy. I'd seen
him beat some guy twice his size to a bloody pulp.

I'd never seen him like this.

Out in front of me, Chucky was going nuts,
straining at his leash and whining for Lawton's notice. Slowly,
Lawton's gaze dipped to Chucky, and I saw the barest hint of a sad
smile.

When Chucky barreled into Lawton a moment
later, there wasn't much I could do, short of yanking Chucky
backward and prying him loose.

But somehow, I just didn't have the heart. So
I stood, silently off to the side, while Lawton crouched down and
ruffled Chucky's fur.

A moment later, I heard the crinkle of
packaging and joyful yips that somehow managed to tear my heart
out. He still carried doggie snacks, even after all this time?

But true to his promise, Lawton didn't say a
single word or give me so much as a wave.

Gently, I picked up Chucky and cradled him
against me, meeting Lawton's gaze one last time before continuing
down the trail with Chucky in my arms and his leash dragging behind
us.

When I rounded the bend a few minutes later,
I saw Lawton out of the corner of my eye. He still hadn't moved. He
stood, facing the same exact same direction, the empty doggie-treat
bag hanging loose from his fingers.

When I'd moved beyond the line of sight, I
set Chucky down and trudged forward once again, feeling hot tears
slide down my cold face. When I completed the circuit, Lawton was
gone.

When my phone rang later that afternoon, I
couldn't help but dive for it. I wasn't sure what I expected. A
return-call from the Parkers? A call from Lawton after all? Or
maybe just Keith, calling me into work or threatening to fire me
again.

But when I checked the display, what I saw
there made me groan aloud. It was Loretta, again.

She'd been calling me every few days,
switching what I was supposed to bring and pretending it was my
fault for the mix-up. Salad, dessert, salad, dessert – I was
getting whiplash just thinking about it.

In the end, I'd decided to play it safe. I'd
purchased everything for both, not that I could truly afford it.
But I needed a peaceful Thanksgiving, not just for my sake, but for
Josh's.

Still, I couldn't bring myself to answer that
call. Not this time. Seeing Lawton today had sucked all the juice
right out of me, and I seriously doubted my ability to take her
crap without giving some right back in return. So I let it to go
voicemail and listened to the message as soon as the phone
beeped.