Page 114 of Lawton

In the driveway, Bishop circled around to the passenger's side. He studied the other front tire.

The guy holding Chloe spoke again. "Fuck the tire," he hissed. "C'mon! Jesus."

When Bishop said nothing, the guy muttered, "Son-of-a-bitch," and sat up. The knife lifted, and I charged forward, covering the short distance lightning-fast. I yanked him off her and flung him to the ground.

With blind fury, I dove on top of him. I gripped his neck with my left hand and pounded him with my right. The guy bucked and twisted, and clutched at his throat, trying to break my grip.

Like that was gonna happen.

I didn't bother to remove his mask. I didn't care who he was, or what he looked like. I was going to kill him right here and now with my bare hands.

Or at least, that was plan until I heard Chloe scream out, "Lawton! Behind you!"

I whipped my head around to see Bishop, still in the ski mask, coming up behind me with that stupid tire iron still in his hand.

So what?

I turned around and punched the guy again, how many times, I didn't know.

Too soon, I felt an arm around my neck, yanking me backward and pulling me up.

Fucking Bishop.

I barreled into him, sending both of us rolling across the lawn. The sounds of screaming made me look up in mid-motion. It was Chloe. She stood above us, clutching the knife with both hands. She looked scared and ferocious and pale as death.

I stopped moving. What the hell was wrong with me? Fighting Bishop? When Chloe was right here? Possibly hurt? Definitely scared.

I was such an asshole. Disgusted, I let Bishop drag me to my feet.

I'd barely gotten my footing when Chloe gave a shriek, lifted the knife, and charged Bishop, straight-on. His hand snapped up, capturing her wrist in his gloved hand. Chloe gave a little cry and dropped the knife.

I turned on him. "Let go of her!"

"For fuck's sake," Bishop muttered. He released her wrist and stepped back with both hands raised.

I rushed to Chloe. I took her hand and said what I should've said earlier. "You okay?" I scanned her face, and then her body, looking for bumps and bruises, or – I felt myself swallow – traces of blood.

I saw nothing. Yeah, she still looked scared, but she was okay. Or least shelookedokay. But was she really?

Finally, she gave a weak nod and then glanced toward Bishop. I saw fear and uncertainty darken her face. It suddenly hit me that she had no idea who he was.

I turned to him and said, "Take off the mask, will ya? Can't you see you're scaring her?"

With a muttered curse, he pulled off the ski mask and tossed it to the ground. He gave Chloe an annoyed look. "I'd have taken it off sooner if she hadn't gone all Norman Bates on me."

Chloe glared at him. "Norman Bates?" Her voice was shaking. "As in psycho?"

He shrugged. "If the knife fits…"

Her hand in mine was ice cold. When I moved forward to take her in my arms, she yanked away and whirled around to face Bishop. "Why'd you guys attack me?" She sucked in a ragged breath. "Is this your idea of a joke?"

What the hell? Had I missed something? I turned to Bishop. Through clenched teeth, I said, "What?"

Bishop turned his gaze to the sky. "Oh, for fuck's sake."

Chloe was still glaring at him. "You already said that."

Bishop turned his attention to me. "She thinks I’m the other guy."