Rastor (Lawton Rastor Book 2) (2 page)

Frantically, I scanned the crowd, looking for any sign of her. One minute she'd been there. And then, she'd been tumbling forward out of sight.

The pavement was hard. The crowd was massive. She was small and underdressed, with bare legs and a thin, short coat that would do nothing to cushion her fall.

I could hardly breathe. Was she okay?

A split-second later, I was on the move, dodging bodies and vehicles as I took the only route not blocked by police tape. Unfortunately, it was the
long
way, around the nearest tour bus. I was halfway past it when a male voice called out from somewhere behind me, "Hey! Aren't you–"

"No!" I called back, and kept on going.

Because right now, I wasn't Lawton Rastor, the guy everyone thought they knew. I was something else, a maniac man on a mission. I
had
to find her. Now.

But when I reached the area where I'd seen her last, there was no sign of her – or of the asshole who'd dropped her. Near the spot where she'd been standing, I spotted the pervert who'd been ogling her ass. I shouldered my way toward him and said, "The girl who fell – where is she?"

At something in my expression, he backed up, hard and fast, bumping into the side of a nearby Chevy. "Where's who?" 

"The girl who's
ass
you were looking at." I gave him a hard look. "My girlfriend. That's who."

The guy swallowed. "Your girlfriend?" He glanced around as if looking for a quick escape.

In this crowd? It wasn't gonna happen. I leaned closer. "Where
is
she?" At this point, his earlier ass-ogling was the least of my concerns. "Tell me," I demanded. "Was she hurt?"

"I, uh, don't think so."

"You don't
think
so?" It wasn't good enough. I
had
to see for myself. "Where'd she go?"

"Uh, the car, I think."

"
Her
car?"

"Yeah. Maybe." He glanced around. "I don't know. The guy's phone got busted up, so…"

Screw the phone. Those things were replaceable. Chloe wasn't. I was already on the move. From our history, I knew exactly where Chloe parked. Unfortunately, it was on the other side of the building, in the employee parking lot.

Shit. While I'd been making my way here, she'd been going in the opposite direction, probably around that other tour bus.

I was just circling the building when I saw what I'd been expecting for a while now – a tow truck, rumbling into the parking lot. Obviously, it had been called to open the sedan's trunk. I didn't even pause. Screw the truck. Screw everything. I
had
to find her.

There was only one problem. When I reached Chloe's car, she wasn't there. I stood, peering through her car-windows, looking for some sign of where she might be.

I saw nothing.

Cursing, I pushed away from her car and looked around. A few car-lengths away, I spotted movement in the back seat of a Lincoln Town Car. A moment later, a rear-window slid down, and a female voice called out from the shadows, "Hey! Lawton!"

Damn it. I couldn't see the face, but I recognized the voice, and it sure as hell wasn't Chloe's.

Sure enough, when the car door swung open, Brittney stepped out, looking like she'd just returned from clubbing. With a sultry smile, she sauntered over and asked, "So, what are
you
doing here?"

In my whole life, I'd never hit a girl. I'd never even come close, not even with my mom, who some might say sorely deserved it for what she'd done to my little sister.

But so help me, I wanted to grab Brittney by that blonde hair of hers and slam her into the nearest car-window until the glass shattered and she stopped moving.

She'd
been the one who'd set up that kidnapping.
She'd
been the one who'd given those guys the twisted story that had set me off.
She'd
been the one giving Chloe a hard time from day-one.

If it weren't for Brittney, Chloe would be fine right now. None of this would have happened. And – my heart clenched – Chloe and I would still be together.

Trying to get a grip, I shoved my hands deep into the pockets of my hoodie and tried like hell to keep myself from lunging at her.

The skank was still smiling. "So, did Bishop get ahold of you?"

I gave her a what-the-hell look, but said nothing.

"I mean," she continued, "I talked to him earlier." She gave a small laugh. "He was totally rude, by the way. Like, seriously, the guy has no sense of humor."

I glared down at her. "You're kidding, right?"

She paused. "Hey, are you mad at me or something?"

Through clenched teeth, I said, "You might say that."

"Really?" Her forehead wrinkled. "Why?"

Brittney wasn't dumb. And if she thought that faking it was gonna get her off the hook, she had another thing coming. "Go ahead," I told her. "Play dumb all you want. I don't have time for this shit." I turned to go.

She lunged for my elbow. "Wait! Is this about the prank?"

A prank?
That's
what she was calling it? My muscles were tight, and my breathing was shallow. I shook off her hand and whirled to face her. "You bitch."

She gave a little gasp. "What?"

I leaned closer, and my fingers flexed. "You hurt her."

She drew back. "Who? Chloe? I did not!" She gave a nervous laugh. "I mean, if that's what happened, it wasn't
my
fault. I told those guys to keep it friendly."

An image of that whole kidnapping scene flashed in my brain. Chloe was on the ground, and that guy was on top of her. Any "friendlier," and I would've murdered him with my bare hands.

"Oh come on!" Brittney was saying. "Don't look at me like that. You wanted us to be friends, right?"

Who? Brittney and Chloe? That wasn't gonna happen. For one thing, Chloe had better taste.

Brittney gave me a pleading look. "So I thought I'd include her in one of our sorority things, you know? I mean, we do it all the time." Her voice picked up steam. "We thought she'd like it. Honest."

Earlier tonight, she'd fed Bishop the same line of bull, which he'd passed along to me. I didn’t buy it then, and I wasn't buying it now. For one thing, the whole sorority bit was a crock. Brittney and Amber might
claim
to be sorority sisters, but only one of them went to college – and it sure as hell wasn't Brittney.

I made a sound of disgust. "Nice story."

"If you don't believe me, ask Amber. She'll tell you."

I'd been trying to reach Amber for hours. For once, she wasn't answering, and she wasn't calling me back. None of this made sense. I'd known Amber for years, and I couldn’t see her wanting to hurt anyone. But the way it looked, she had.

Either I didn't know Amber as well as I thought, or there was a grain of truth to Brittney's story. I shoved a hand through my hair and tried to think. A prank? If so, it was the worst fucking prank I'd ever seen.

Brittney leaned forward. "Would it help if I apologized?"

For some reason, that made me pause. Would it?

I thought of Chloe. I'd give anything to win her back. Already,
I'd
apologized. I'd begged. I'd delivered some justice to the guys who'd attacked her. And the justice wasn't done yet. Soon, they'd be standing outside in their underwear while a crowd of strangers laughed at them.

It was the same thing they'd been planning for Chloe. Those fuckers.

I tried to focus on the big picture. Chloe deserved an apology, and not only from me. And if Brittney
did
apologize, would that help?

As if sensing weakness, Brittney tried again. "Just give me a chance, okay? I can make this right."

She was wrong. Nothing was gonna make this right. But would it help? In the end, it all came down to one thing – Chloe. If nothing else, she
deserved
that apology. And she needed to know she was safe, and that nothing like that was gonna happen to her ever again.

So for Chloe's sake, I finally nodded.

Brittney smiled.

I didn't. Instead, I leaned close and said, "And let's get one thing straight. You'd better do a damn good job, or you're out."

"Out?" She blinked up at me. "What do you mean?"

"You mess this up, and all those parties you love going to? All the people you like to hang with? All the stupid shit that means so much to you? Well, you'll be giving it up, because I'll make damn sure you're on no one's guest list."

It was a stupid threat. Normal people wouldn’t give a rat's ass about parties with people they barely knew. But Brittney, she wasn't normal. She was a bigtime star-fucker, and she ate that shit up.

I had a lot of friends. And a lot of people owed me favors. The threat might be stupid, but that didn't mean it was idle. I meant every word.

Brittney was frowning now. "You don't have to be so mean about it. I mean, I'm trying to help, you know."

"Yeah, right." I glanced around. There was still no sign of Chloe. I
had
to find her. I gave Brittney one last look. "When I call, you'd better answer. Because that apology? You don't get to put it off."

I left her there, sulking in the parking lot. Why she was there at all, I had no idea. Probably, I didn't want to know.

Besides, I had something more important to think about – Chloe. Where
was
she?

Ten minutes later, I had the answer, and it wasn't one I liked. The way it sounded, she was arguing with some guy in the parking lot. And – damn it – that guy was my brother.

She was standing outside my car, glaring down at Bishop, who sat in the driver's seat with the window open. I couldn't hear what he was saying, but Chloe's response was loud and clear. "Oh for God's sake!" she yelled. "Will you just stop already!"

What the hell?

I strode toward them, hollering out to Bishop. "Hey! What the hell are you doing to her?"

Already, I was at Chloe's side. She whirled to face me, and our eyes met. Her lips parted, but whatever she was planning to say, the words died on her lips.

She was so damned close, but not nearly close enough. I wanted to wrap her in my arms and make everything better. But she wouldn’t want that. She might
never
want that. So I held my ground and devoured the sight of her, not liking what I saw.

Under the makeup, her face was too pale, and her eyes were too hollow. The night was freezing, and she was standing out here in a uniform that was too small, under a coat that was too thin, no matter how fashionable it might be.

And now, Bishop was giving her grief, too? I yanked my gaze from Chloe and turned to face him. "Answer me!" I said.

He didn't. Instead, he opened the car door and slowly got out, shutting the door behind him. He tossed me the car-keys, and I caught them on instinct. Without a word, he turned toward the restaurant and started walking.

"Hey!" I called after him. "Where do you think
you're
going?"

He didn't turn around, but his voice carried across the short distance. "To get a burger, beer – hell, a cab, I dunno. You guys work it out. I'll catch you later."

Next to me, Chloe hollered after him. "Hey! There's nothing to work out, dipshit!"

There was no reaction. But then again, I hadn't expected any. I turned to Chloe and felt a reluctant smile tug at my lips. "Did you just call him a dipshit?"

She whirled to face me. "You think it's funny?"

"Nope." I raised my hands, palms out. "Not me."

"Then why are you smiling?" she said. "God, you are such a–" She shook her head. "I don't even know what to call you."

I felt my smile fade. She didn't have to call me anything. I knew exactly what I was. A bastard. An asshole. A stupid dumb-shit who'd driven away the only girl I'd ever loved. I swallowed. And I'd hurt her.

I recalled the handcuffs, and what they'd done to her wrists. The sleeves of her jacket covered them now, but I knew what was underneath – red, raw skin where the cuffs had been.

She'd been tugging so damned hard. I should've known that was happening. I should've let her go. Or better yet, I should've never cuffed her in the first place.

What the hell was wrong with me?

And just few minutes ago, that other idiot had dropped her on the pavement. What the hell was wrong with
him?

Was Chloe hurt? I took a good long, look, starting at her face and working my way down. "You're okay?" My voice caught. "You look okay." I reached for her hand. "But what are you doing here? Shouldn't you be home?" I hesitated. "In bed or something?"

"Oh." She yanked her hand away. "Because some psycho locked me in his basement?" She gave a humorless laugh. "No big deal. Happens to me all the time. Life goes on, right?"

She was losing it, and I couldn’t blame her. This was all my fault. "Baby–"

"I already told you, don't call me that." She pointed toward the restaurant where she worked. "So why'd you do this
here
? You
want
me to lose my job? Is that it?"

I shook my head. "No. I get it. You love this job. I know that."

"Oh yeah.
That's
why I'm working here." She rolled her eyes. "Because I love it soooo much."

If she didn't love it, that was news to me. "You don't?"

"Hell no," she said. "But I still don't want to get fired." She reached up to rub her temples. "I can only imagine what those two guys from the trunk are saying right about now." She closed her eyes like it hurt to think. "God, what a nightmare."

Obviously, she was hurting, and not just physically. My arms ached to hold her. My hands longed to stroke her face until her features relaxed into a sleepy smile. My whole body wanted to move forward, to shield her from everything in the world that was troubling her.

But she wouldn’t want that, because the main thing troubling her was me. So I kept my distance and offered up one small detail that might make her feel better. It was about the guys in the trunk. "They're not saying anything."

She opened her eyes to look at me. "What are you? Some kind of mind-reader? Admit it, you don't know squat."

"I know one thing. They won't talk."

"Why?" she said. "Because they're too afraid that I'll talk too? Yeah, like that's gonna happen."

I didn't get it. "What do you mean?"

"I mean that I don't want to get dragged into some police station." Her voice rose. "I don't want to be sitting there all night, telling my pathetic story of how they tried to drag me into a car and…" She let the sentence trail off, as if unable to continue.

It hurt to see her like this. I kept my voice low, soothing. "Hey, don't worry. Nobody's dragging you anywhere. They won't talk. And you won't have to either."

She made a scoffing sound. "How can you be sure?"

"Because they know better. They're not gonna say one word about you."

She glared up at me. "Yeah? How do you know?"

I knew, because I'd kill them if I had to. But that would hardly reassure her. So I focused on something easier. "Because if they do, they'll find themselves dropped off someplace worse the next time."

Her gaze narrowed. "What next time?"

I shrugged. "Depends on them."

She glanced around the parking lot, and I could tell exactly what she was thinking. Tonight, they'd been dropped off in a public place. There'd been police, a crowd, and even a tow truck. They'd had no clothes, except for their underwear and enough bling to make them look like the shallow assholes they were.

Yeah, it was fucking embarrassing. It was meant to be. But it could've been worse. My jaw tightened. It
should
have been worse.

Chloe looked to the crowd, still milling around near the busses. "What could possibly be worse than this?"

That was an easy answer. "My old neighborhood."

I imagined those guys wandering around down there, with no car, no shoes, no phone – and just enough bling to draw the worst kind of attention. If they were lucky, they'd
only
be mugged and have the shit kicked out of them. If they were unlucky, well, they wouldn’t need to worry about the next time, now would they?

"So answer me this," Chloe said. "Why, of all places, did you bring them here, where I work?"

"You wanna know why?" I said. "Because this is exactly where they were gonna drop you."

Her forehead wrinkled. "What?"

"Yeah," I said, feeling an edge creep into my voice. "They were gonna strip you down to your bra and panties and dump you right here. In this parking lot." My jaw tensed. "Want to know what they called it? A prank. Just a fucking prank."

She gave a small shake of her head. "Seriously? That's all they were gonna do?"

"All?" I said. "Isn't that enough?" I recalled Chloe on her lawn, with that guy on top of her. And then, I imagined her nearly naked out here in the cold, with hundreds of eyes devouring the sight of her, where she worked, no less.

At the thought, I wanted to hit something. Trying to keep it together, I said, "God, Chloe. They hurt you. They scared you."

"Yeah." She gave me a hard look. "And they weren't the only ones, now were they?"

She was right. "No." My voice grew quieter. "They weren't."

"So what
was
all this?" she asked. "Your idea of justice?"

"Something like that." I met her gaze, trying to make her understand. "We did exactly to them what they were gonna do to you. Seemed fair enough."

"Fair?" She made a scoffing sound. "Yeah, but you didn't stop there, did you?"

"What do you mean?"

She eyed me with obvious disgust. "I mean, you also beat the crap out of them. And, you ruined their car." She crossed her arms. "So it wasn't exactly an eye for an eye, was it?"

Tonight, I'd done a lot of things that I sorely regretted. But none of them involved those two guys. If anything, they'd gotten off light. Chloe, of all people, should understand that.

I stared down at her. "You're sticking up for them?"

She shrugged, letting the disgust in her eyes speak for itself.

I loved her, and I'd hurt her. But there was no way I could let this slide. "You're serious. Aren't you?"

My voice rose. "After what they did to you? You think that's alright?" I turned to glare across the parking lot. "Because I'm not gonna lie to you, Chloe. I'd do it again in a heartbeat. And if they ever pull that crap again, especially with you, they're not gonna get off so light."

She gave me a smirk. "So they got off light, huh? Well, what about
you
?"

I didn't get it. "What about me?"

"You got off lightest of all, didn't you? Look." She poked a finger toward my chest. "
You're
fine. Not a scratch on you, is there?" She turned and pointed toward my car. "And look. Your car's fine too. Seriously, what has any of this cost you?"

She was wrong.

"Chloe. It's cost me everything."

"Yeah." She rolled her eyes. "Right."

"Everything that matters."

"You know what?" she said. "That's real easy for you to say." Her voice rose. "Me? I'm an inch away from losing my job. Those guys, they got their car trashed. But you? This has cost you nothing." She took a step closer. "Nothing!"

Her eyes were wet, and her body was trembling. I couldn't stop myself. I reached out for her.

She slapped my arms aside. "So who's gonna kick
your
ass? Who's gonna get
you
fired?" Her voice broke. "Who's gonna trash
your
car?"

"You want someone to kick my ass?" I spread my arms. "Go ahead. I'd welcome it."

"Sure you would."

"Think I'm lying? You think I don't know that I deserve it?"

"Yeah? Well, words are cheap." She turned away.

"Wait."

She stopped. "For what?"

I met her gaze and said one simple word. "Proof."