Page 16 of Lawton

Outside, it wasn't quite raining. But there was a cold drizzle that would keep any sane person indoors.

Sane? Apparently, that wasn't me.

Like I didn't know that already.

Standing barefoot on my wet patio, I lit the grill and waited for it to warm. It would take at least ten minutes before I could throw on the steaks, but I wasn't going anywhere. I glanced toward the house and gave a shudder. Better to risk freezing my ass off than listen to another purse discussion.

Through the back windows, I saw Brittney reading Amber the riot act. I couldn't hear what she was saying, but the look on Brittney's face said it all. She wasn't happy. Because of the purse? Probably.

Why Amber put up with Brittney's crap, I had no idea. Maybe it was the whole twin thing. They weren't twins for real, but theyweresorority sisters. And theydidlook alike, especially on nights like tonight, when they dressed the same.

I eyed their tight black dresses and felt myself frown. Were they going clubbing after dinner? I shook my head. Not with me, they weren’t. I was tired of that scene and even more tired of Brittney.

If she wasn't Amber's friend, she wouldn't even be here tonight. But I'd known Amber for a long time, and I liked her in limited doses. I'd call her a friend, which was why I'd made a point tonotsleep with her.

Easy lays? Those were a dime a dozen. But friends were something different.

As far as Brittney, I'd known her for only a few weeks. I didn't like her. She wasn't a friend. And Istilldidn't want to sleep with her – no matter how good she looked in that skin-tight dress.

When the grill was hot enough, I threw on the steaks and glanced at my watch. Ten minutes to cook, a half-hour to eat, and maybe an hour to hang out afterwards. By nine o'clock, they'd be gone, whether that had been their plan or not.

I was just flipping the steaks when something made me pause. It was the sound of her voice – Chloe's. And unlike the last time I'd seen her, she sounded just like the girl I remembered.

Chapter 9

Her voice rang out across my back yard. "Chucky! You come back here!" She sounded flustered, and maybe a little amused.

I stopped and listened. Chucky? The dog? It had to be.

I hadn't seen the dogorChloe in nearly a week. There was a reason for that. I hadn't been looking, no matter how much I'd wanted to.

Cold turkey. That was my approach. No looking, no thinking, no wanting.

I didn't need her.

Or that's what I thought, right up to the moment I heard her voice, sounding exactly like the girl I'd met at the hospital. I turned to face the sound.

By now, I knew where she lived – in the two-story Tudor with the long, winding driveway. We shared a back fence, whether she realized it or not.

Standing barefoot on my patio, I squinted through the trees. I saw nothing. But I did hear something, a playful yip followed by Chloe's voice calling out, "Chucky! You come back here this instant!"

I nodded to myself. Chucky. It was the dog, alright. I couldn't help but smile. The way it sounded, he was having the time of his life.

As for Chloe, it was hard to tell. "That's not funny!" she yelled, sounding like she wanted to laugh in spite of herself.

The laughter in her voice sounded all too familiar. When I'd been lying, half-dead, how many funny stories had she shared? How many soothing words? How many secrets?

I recalled the Polish grandmother and the kid brother who was smart as hell. I felt her hand on my arm and heard her voice in my ear.

Now, standing in the drizzle, I felt myself frown. Weird. She hadn't mentioned her parents. Was that because they were rich, and I obviously wasn't? Wasthatwhy she'd never told me her name? Maybe she didn't want to be found?

I shook off the distraction. She was so painfully close, just the other side of that fence. Damn it, Ihadto see her.

I turned toward the grill and grabbed a knife off the nearby platter. I hacked into the largest steak, sawing off a bite-sized chunk. I turned and hurled it toward the back fence, watching as it disappeared into the darkness.

When nothing happened, I turned and did it again, and again, wiping my hands on my shirt when my fingers got too slippery. Before I knew it, the steak was gone, and my shirt was a mess.

Like I cared.