Rastor (Lawton Rastor Book 2) by Sabrina Stark Read Free Book Online Page B

the busboy for a ride home."
    If this were yesterday, she would've called me for a ride. She wouldn't need to beg anyone. And whether we were together or not, she still didn't need to beg anyone. "You should've called me," I said.
    "Yeah? Well, maybe I didn't want to owe you a favor."
    "You wouldn't have owed me anything."
    "Yeah, right."
    I looked toward the street. "So you walked here? Alone?" Yeah, it was a stupid question. I didn't see anyone else here, did I?
    "Why not?" she said. "I've done it before. Besides, I'm just on the other side of your fence."
    Except she didn't come the short way, did she? Yeah, there was a narrow gate out back, but the thing was locked. And as far as the fence, it was double Chloe's height, with sharp metal spires all along the top.
    I gave her a look. "So you climbed it. That's what you're saying?" I knew she hadn't, but I was trying to make a point.
    "No. Of course not."
    "So you took the long way." I crossed my arms. "By sidewalk."
    "Well, I didn't fly here, if that's what you're wondering."
    Did I need to point out the obvious? "It's a fifteen-minute walk."
    "So?"
    I glanced around. It was pitch-black and cold as hell. She'd been alone and under-dressed. I gave her a serious look. "So it's the middle of the night."
    "No. It's early morning."
    Maybe. But she knew damn well what I meant. I didn't want her to be afraid. But I didn't want her to take stupid chances either. Yeah, this was a nice neighborhood, but in some ways, that just made it a juicier target.
    I had to say it. "So you want something bad to happen to you? Is that it?"
    She gave a bitter laugh. "What do you consider bad? Because it seems to me that something bad can happen just about anywhere, anytime. Driveways, parking lots–" Her mouth twisted. "Basements."
    Ouch.
    What could I say? It was true. Lamely, I said, "You should've called me."
    She gave something like a shrug.
    "Chloe, I'm serious. Don't do that again, alright?"
    She made a sound of impatience. "Look, you were the one who forced me to come here."
    Like what? At gunpoint? Was that how she really felt? I heard myself say, "Forced you?"
    "Cornered me. Whatever." She sighed. "So here I am. And how I got here isn't all that important."
    "It is to me."
    "Yeah? Well, from now on, that's your problem, not mine."
    I don't know what I expected, but not this. A full-blown temper-tantrum would've been easier to handle. The way it looked, she hated me, really hated me.
    And I loved her.
    Desperate to say something, anything , that would make a difference, I tried to think. What could I say? What could I do?
    It was Chloe who broke the silence. "Listen, I've had a long night, so can we skip the part where we debate why I wouldn't be calling you for favors?"
    I looked into her eyes, searching for some sign that it wasn't over. All I got was an icy stare.
    My heart sank. What was the old saying? Live to fight another day? The way it looked, I wasn't going to make any headway tonight. And probably, if I pushed too hard, I'd only be pushing her further away.
    But there was something I could do – not for me, for her. I could make damned sure she got that apology from Brittney. And if I had to drag Brittney's bony ass out of a nap or whatever to make that happen, I sure as hell wasn't going to hesitate.
    "Alright," I said. "But there's something you deserve to hear. At least come inside, alright?"
    "No. I don't think so." Her gaze drifted downward and settled on my wrists. Her eyebrows furrowed.
    Shit.
    My arms were bare, but my wrists were wrapped in white athletic tape. The tape was for Chloe's sake, not mine. She didn't need to know that those two kidnapper-wannabees weren't the only people I'd punished.
    Under Chloe's gaze, my wrists burned with the memory of what I'd done. I could still feel the friction from the rope slicing into my skin as I wrapped the rope tighter and pulled it harder, until the rope was red, and my skin was dripping.
    I didn't regret it. I deserved