Page 88 of Rastor

"It's a simple question, Chloe."

"I already told you, I don't live with anyone."

I pointed toward the place she called home. "So that'syourhouse."

"No," she said through gritted teeth. "And I've already told you that."

"Uh-huh." I made a forwarding motion with my hand. "Go on."

"With what?"

"Your explanation."

"What's gotten into you?" she said. "It's a job. That's what the money's for. There. You happy?"

I was a lot of things right now, but happy wasn't one of them.

Chloe threw up her hands. "What do you want me to say? That this house is beyond my price range?" Her voice rose. "Well, obviously it is. Is that what you wanted to hear?"

Her skin was flushed, and her breathing was unsteady. I looked down and eyed the wad of money, bulging out of her front pocket. How much was in there? Hundreds? Thousands?

I tried to keep my voice level. "All I want to hear is the truth."

She reached up to rub the back of her neck. She glanced toward the house and said in a quieter voice, "Can we talk about this somewhere else?"

Where? Her place? I gave it a quick glance. There it was, just an easy walk down the driveway. But no. She couldn't mean that, because for some reason,herhouse was off limits. For the millionth time, I wondered, why was that?

I gave something like a shrug. "If that's what you want." I turned away, and Chucky jumped up, as if ready to get moving again. I knew the feeling. I started walking, and Chloe joined me.

She didn't say anything, and neither did I. We passed at least a dozen houses without speaking. The silence felt like a powder-keg, ready to explode any second. Or maybe that was just me. I kept telling myself to stop thinking the worst. But Chloe was making it so damn hard.

All I wanted was the truth. Maybe the douchebagwasher uncle. And maybe what's-his-name from this morning was just a salesman. And maybe the house was off-limits because why? She had a dozen horny roommates who'd jump me if they had the chance?

Yeah, it was that ridiculous. But it was better than the other stuff rattling around in my head.

Up ahead, I spotted my own house. When we got there, would Chloe come inside, like we'd planned? Shit, did I even want her to?

Damn it. I did. How messed up was that?

I gripped Chucky's leash and tried like hell to sort everything out. It did no good. My thoughts were still raging when we reached my front door.

I opened it up, but made no move to go inside. She'd promised me an explanation. So far, I'd gotten nothing. Yeah, it was about what I'd expected.

I turned toward her and held out the leash. If she wanted to leave, I wasn't going to stop her. Not this time. Silently, she took it from my hand, but made no move to turn away.

Instead, she put her hands on her hips and said, "Lawton, what the hell is your problem?"

Well, that was rich. "Myproblem?"

Just then, Chucky made a break for it, bolting into my house, dragging the leash behind him. I didn't bother to look. I was still looking at Chloe.

She made a sound of frustration. "Chucky!" she yelled. "Damn it."

Looking at her, watching her, thinking of her with someone else, it was making me crazy – so crazy that I couldn't stop myself from saying exactly what was on my mind.

"Wanna know what my problem is?" I said. "Alright, here it is. When I think of someone else holding you, touching you–" my voice caught. "–being with you in the ways I'm with you, it makes me want to tear their fuckin' throat out."

Chapter 43