Page 33 of Lawton

I shrugged. "Eh, not for me to judge."

His gaze narrowed. "There's nothing to judge, asshole."

Juicer whirled on him. "He knows that. He's just messin' with ya. What the fuck is wrong with you? You stupid?"

I almost smiled. "He was looking at your ass," I said.

I didn't specify which "he" I meant. The way I saw it, it didn't matter. A couple minutes of this, and they'd turn on each other. They always did.

Except this time, they didn't. But it wasn't because of me. And it wasn't because of them. It was because of Brittney, whose voice rang out across the pavement. "Kick their asses, Lawton!"

My back was to the restaurant. I didn't want to look. But I did anyway. And there she was, Brittney, along with Amber and a few dozen other people.

I gave Amber a what-the-hell look.

She gave me a little wave. "Sorry!" she hollered across the parking lot. "But we wanted to cheer you on!"

A split-second later, something slammed into me. It was Juicer, looking to knock me to the pavement. When I kept my balance and hit him back, the small crowd went nuts.

Well, so much for a low profile.

Chapter 16

We'd been at it for just a couple of minutes. The crowd was bigger now. Closer too. Juicer and Chrome were taking turns, running at me, one after another. But they were slow. And sloppy. I could've fought them in my sleep.

Already, Chrome looked ready to drop. I watched as he staggered backward, over-corrected, and fell forward, doing a hard face-plant on the pavement. When he lifted his head, his nose was bloody, and not just a little.

Broken? Hard to say.

I glanced at Juicer. He looked equally unsteady, but more determined. I waited, hoping he'd just fall over already – or better still, get in his damn car and drive off.

He didn't.

With a guttural roar, he barreled toward me. My fist connected with his jaw, sending him whirling off to the side. He crashed into a couple of college-aged guys. One of the guys gave Juicer a good shove, sending him back into the circle.

I stepped back and waited. Was he done? I sure as hell hoped so. I scanned the crowd. Around us, people were filming us with their cell phones. For what? Did it matter? Facebook, Youtube, whatever. By now, it was all the same to me.

In the mirrored reflection of a nearby car-window, I saw myself standing there in the center of the crowd. I looked like a stranger – tattooed, muscled, and tinged with orange, thanks to the eerie glow of the tall parking lot lights.

How had it come to this?

From somewhere behind me, an unfamiliar female voice hollered out, "Hey! Take off your shirt!"

In front of me, Juicer regained his balance long enough to holler back, "Later! I'm busy!"

"Not you!" the same voice rang out. "Lawton!"

"Yeah!" another girl called. "Show us your abs!"

Through the noise of the crowd, I heard a different female voice, Brittney's. "Zip it, sister," she hollered. "He'sourguy. Not yours."

Taco Bell. I should've gone when I had the chance.

I glanced toward the nearby restaurant and prayed like hell that Chloe was still inside. Another glance at the crowd, and I was done praying.

It was too late. She was here. Outside.

Worse, she was with another guy, some football player type. They were standing together in a pickup bed, along with a few other people. Chloe stood on her tiptoes, saying something in the guy's ear. He was smiling.