Page 56 of Unbelonging
"And I want to tell you something," Lawton continued. "Fame, even as minor as mine, isn't all it's cracked up to be. People meet me, and they think they've got something to prove. Half the world kisses my ass, and the other half wants to take me down a peg, prove they're tough or whatever."
He shook his head. "You know, a couple weeks ago, two guys jumped me outside this restaurant? Right here in Rochester Hills? Un-fucking-believable."
I felt myself grow still. I knew exactly what he was talking about. That fight outside the diner. I'd seen it firsthand.
"Why'd they do that?" I asked. "You mean just for the fun of it?"
He raised his hand in a dismissive gesture. "Bad example. Those guys, I actually knew. But most of the time, it's just some dumb-ass thinking to get a rep by taking mine down. I used to actually fight those idiots, beat 'em within an inch of their lives just so they'd leave me the fuck alone. But they never did. They just kept coming back for more. The whole thing got to be such a nuisance that I stopped doing it."
"What do you mean stopped doing it?"
"If someone wants to fight me," he said, "I just let 'em fight. Hit 'em when they come close, but mostly, just let them run themselves out. If it weren't so pathetic, it'd be fuckin' hilarious."
"You swear a lot," I muttered – not that I was in any position to talk. But I was working on that.
He ran a hand through his hair. "Oh shit." He looked heavenward. "Sorry. I guess I'm kind of worked up." His voice grew ragged. "I don't want to lose you."
I stared at him, utterly confused. "But you never had me."
"I know." His voice was soft. "And that's the problem."
Looking at him, my heart ached. He wasn't anything like the guy I'd envisioned. He was tough, but not cruel. If the number of party guests was any indicator, he wasn't hurting for companions. Still, he seemed alone in ways I'd probably never understand.
Was that why he put up with his dick of a friend? No, I reminded myself. Not his friend. His brother. Not that Lawton had bothered to tell me.
That was another problem. The guy had violated my privacy. He'd also broken a few laws, probably more than I knew of. He was entirely unrepentant. Was he still at Lawton's house? And if so, was he there to stay?
And whatwastheir little side venture, anyway? The guy was trouble. But that wasn't the worst of it. For whatever reason, he absolutely hated me.
At least the feeling was mutual.
"What about Bishop?" I asked.
"What about him?"
"Is he there to stay? Or just passing through?"
Lawton stiffened. "Why do you ask?"
"Just curious."
His voice was quiet. "No."
"No, what?"
"No," Lawton said. "He's not just passing through."
"Oh."
"He doesn't live with me," Lawton said, "but when he's in town –" He shrugged, letting the sentence trail off.
"I see." And I did. The guy was there to stay. What did I expect? It was his brother, after all.
"Does it matter?" Lawton asked.
"No," I said, not entirely sure I was telling the truth. But I did know one thing. You learned a lot about someone by the company they kept. And the company Lawton kept wasn't that great, starting with Brittney and ending with some intrusive jerk who needed a serious ass-kicking.
"Look," Lawton said, "yeah, Bishop can be a dick sometimes. Come to think of it, he's been a dick for five, six years now. Long story. But you don’t know him like I do. If you did, you'd like him. Hard as that is to believe."
