Chapter 31
Nervously, I paced the living room. It was just after two o'clock on Monday afternoon. Lawton had called me a couple hours earlier to finalize our plans. What those plans were, I had no idea.
All he said was to dress casually and be ready to see something he'd never shown anyone.
I knew exactly what Erika would say. That ruled out his massive cock.
Waiting for him, I wore jeans and a dark V-necked shirt. Not fancy, but nothing I'd be embarrassed to be seen in either.
Right on schedule, a car pulled into the driveway. Watching out the window, I felt my eyebrows furrow. It was a brown sedan with a rusty front bumper and dented hood.
As I watched, Lawton slid out of the driver's seat and started walking toward the front door. Still confused, I grabbed my purse and met him at the half-way point.
"What's that?" I said, glancing over at the car.
"Our ride," he said.
I gave him a dubious look. "You sure this thing runs?"
He grinned. "It got me here, didn't it?" He flicked his head toward the car. "C'mon." He walked around and opened the passenger's side. He waited.
I didn't move.
"How far are we going?" I said.
"Not far."
I still didn't move. I'd been stranded more than enough in my own piece of crap. I didn't need to be stranded in his piece of crap too. I glanced at my old Fiesta. It looked like a luxury ride in comparison. It was probably more reliable too.
"Wanna take my car?" I asked.
He laughed. "Not a chance."
I'm no car-snob, but I didn't understand what was going on here. He had a whole fleet of vehicles in his garage. Why on Earth would he want to drive this thing? More to the point, why on Earth would he want to drive this thing today? With me?
Was this some sort of payback for what had happened to his favorite hot rod?
"Trust me," he said, "it runs great."
I bit my lip. "I suppose you have a backup plan if we get stranded?"
"We won't."
"I must be insane," I said as I finally walked toward him and climbed into the car. He closed the passenger's side door behind me, and walked around to get in the driver's seat.
As I buckled up, I noticed something strange. The car's interior was obviously old, but not half as ratty as the outside. And it didn't have that old musty smell either. It smelled not exactly new, but definitely fresh.
When he fired up the engine, something else struck me. It didn't sound like an old beater either. I'm no car expert, but the way the engine roared to life and settled into a nice, steady purr, it made me wonder if there was more to this car than I'd originally guessed.
As soon as we pulled out of the driveway, I turned sideways in the seat to face him. "Alright. You know I'm gonna ask, so let's just get it out of the way. Why this car?"
"What," he said, "you don’t like it?"
"Am I supposed to?"
Laughing, he gave me a sideways glance before returning his gaze to the road. "Alright," he said, "as much as I'd like to mess with you, I don't want you to worry."
"Too late for that," I said.
"So here's the thing," he said. "Where we're going, I'd never take any of my other cars."
"Why not?"
"'Cause they're not as safe." He turned to give me another glance. "And since I've got you here, I'm not taking any chances."
"Oh come on," I said. "Be serious."
"I am serious. My other cars, they draw too much attention."
"I don't want to be mean," I said, "but this car? It'll get plenty of attention."
"Yeah? Well don't let the exterior fool you. The engine, along with everything else under the hood, is in prime condition. And it's fast too. A lot faster than it looks." He lifted a hand and tapped the driver's side window. "And see this glass? Bullet-proof."
I laughed. "Oh stop it."
"I'm not kidding."
I studied his face. Either he was telling the truth, or he had one hell of a poker face. "You serious?" I said.
"Yup. And the wheels – "
"Don't tell me," I teased. "Also bullet-proof?"
"Not exactly. But close."
"Oh c'mon," I said. "How can something be sort of bullet-proof?"
"It's the way they're constructed," he said. "Even if they're punctured, they'll keep going, at least long enough."
"How?"
"Polymer rings."
"What's that?" I squinted at him. "Oh never mind. You're just messing with me."
He didn't confirm or deny it. Instead, he asked, "How good are you at keeping secrets?"
"Pretty good," I said.
Probably too good, at least according to Erika.
"Glad to hear it," Lawton said. "Because I'm counting on that."