Chapter 48
I looked up at him, taking in his tight jaw and hard eyes. I looked down at Chucky. He was still flopped on Lawton's feet like all that spazzing had worn him completely out.
Perfect. Just when I could use a good distraction, Chucky decides to roll over. Didn't he have a squirrel to chase or something?
Then again, I shouldn't need a distraction. It's not like I'd done a damn thing wrong.
The mental whiplash was making me crazy. First, I was mad at the Parkers and happy to see Lawton. Now, I was fine with the Parkers, and unhappy with whatever Lawton's problem was.
Did I ask him about his financial arrangements? No. Not even once. Even though his stuff had to be a whole lot more interesting than mine.
I lifted my chin. "I don't really like the tone of your question," I said.
"Alright," he said. "Then how about this one? Who do you live with?"
"What?"
"It's a simple question, Chloe."
"I already told you, I don't live with anyone."
He pointed toward the Parkers'. "So that's your house."
"No," I said in a tone far more patient than I felt. "And I've already told you that."
"Uh-huh." He moved his hand in a forward motion. "Go on."
"With what?" I said.
"Your explanation."
"What's gotten into you?" I said. "It's a job. That's what the money's for. There. You happy?"
His expression didn't change. I looked to the sidewalk. Chucky looked up at me as if he was also were waiting for some sort of explanation. Or maybe he just wanted a treat. That made two of us.
I threw up my hands. "What do you want me to say? That this house is beyond my price range?" I felt my face grow warm. "Well, obviously it is. Is that what you wanted to hear?"
Erika's words echoed in my brain. Was she right? Was I ashamed of being a paid interloper?
Growing up, I'd been a poor kid in a rich district. But it had never held me back. I still had friends. I got good grades. It was totally fine.
So what if I never hosted sleep-overs or went on field trips? And so what if my clothes were shabby and I had to cut my own hair? I didn't care, and neither should Lawton. It's not like he'd been born with a silver spoon in his mouth.
"All I want to hear," he said, "is the truth."
I reached up to rub the back of my neck. Everything was getting all jumbled. If this conversation kept going, we'd both end up saying something we'd regret. I didn't want that to happen. And if it did end up happening, I sure as hell didn't want that happening on the sidewalk in front of the house.
"Can we talk about this somewhere else?" I said.
"If that's what you want," he said, turning away from me. As if sensing the movement, Chucky jumped up and bounded forward, ready to torment the next squirrel or mail truck or whatever.
Lawton started walking, and so did I. We walked in silence, step after step, passing house after house. Of course, calling them houses was a vast understatement. They were houses in the same way that Erika's first Porsche had been just a car.
Silently, I sorted through my thoughts, trying to decide who I hated more, Lawton or myself – him for the unexpected attitude or me for not understanding why he was so mad.
Up ahead, I spotted his estate. It was our starting point and our final destination. I gave Lawton a sideways glance. His jaw was tight and his gaze remained straight ahead. The hand that held Chucky's leash was fisted so tight, it was practically a death grip.
Too soon, we were at his front door. He opened it up, but made no move to go inside. Supposedly, we were spending the day together. But somehow, I didn't see that happening.
He turned toward me and held out the leash. Silently, I took it. Our gazes met. What he saw in mine, I had no idea, but his own eyes were so cold that I stifled a shiver.
Apparently, the script called for me to slink away, dismissed like some gardener who had accidentally uprooted the begonias.
Screw that.
I put my hands on my hips. "Lawton," I said, "what the hell is your problem?"
"My problem?"
Suddenly, I felt a tug on my hand. A split second later, Chucky bolted past Lawton and into the house. I spotted the tail end of the leash, dragging along the tile floor as Chucky disappeared from sight.
"Chucky!" I yelled. "Damn it."
In front of me, Lawton didn't budge, and he didn't turn around. He was focused on me.
"Wanna know what my problem is?" he said. "Alright, here it is. When I think of someone else holding you, touching you –" his voice caught. "– being with you in the ways I'm with you, it makes me want to tear their f*ckin' throat out."