As I listened, I watched Chloe's face. She was staring at the screen, like she couldn't believe what the guy was saying. If it weren't so pathetic, I might have laughed. What, she was expecting him tonotrat her out?
And here, I thought she was smart.
On the video, the guy was still talking. "She said Lawton had some kind of hero complex or something. Figured if he rescued her, you know, he'd fall for her, maybe get him to propose or I dunno, move in with him."
In front of me, Chloe was shaking her head. A denial? Yeah, right.
"And about the other thing?" Bishop was saying.
"Yeah," the guy said. "Well, she was planning some sex tape thing. Lots of money. She said we'd get a cut if we did a good job making him, you know, come to her rescue and shit."
At this, Chloe bolted upright in her seat, going as far as the cuffs would let her. "He's lying!"
Sothatwas her defense? Funny, I'd expected better. "Sure he is," I said.
She struggled against the cuffs. "I don't even know him!"
"Except you do," I said. "You admitted as much."
"No," she said through clenched teeth. "Just because Iknowhim, it doesn't mean Iknowhim."
"That's not what he says."
"You're gonna take his word over mine?" she said. "You aresuchan asshole."
"Yeah. So you keep saying." I gave her a hard look. "But tell me something? You ever hear of this movie, called uh –" I couldn't even look at her. "Riding the Rastor?"
After a long, painful pause, she said, "I don't fuckin' believe him."
Him? Who did she mean? Bishop? Her partner in crime? The douchebag at the fence? At this point, there were so many guys, it was hard to keep track. At the thought, I felt a cold rage settle over me. I leaned closer and asked, "Who?"
Who didn't she believe?
"Bishop," she said. "He went in my house, right?"
"No." It was a lie. He'd been there, alright. But hell if I'd lethimtake the fall for this. "He didn't," I said. "I did."
Her breath caught. "What?"
"Yeah." I made a scoffing sound. "Bishop came in, showed me this." I held up his phone, now silent. "I said 'no way, the guy's lying. That's not Chloe. Iknowher."
And I thought I did, too. At the memory of what I'd seen earlier, something in my stomach twisted. I'd been standing there in my own house, with Chloe waiting for me in the other room. I'd been holding Bishop's phone, watching the guy talk, and wanting to crush that phone with my bare hands.
Now, in the basement, Chloe was staring up at me, her eyes filled with disbelief.
The way it looked, she had nothing to say.
So I continued. "And I told Bishop, 'That guy, he's full of shit. It's some story. I don’t know where he got it, but it's not true.' But then –"
Chloe spoke up. "Then you broke into my house?"
"Except," I said, "it's not really your house, is it?"
It was a gamble, but at this point, what did it matter? About the house, I still didn't know what the deal was. But I did know that her driver's license didn't match. If I was lucky, it would be enough to get her talking.
"I'm living there now," she said. "Isn't that good enough?"
"You know what?" I said. "I don't really care. Not anymore." It was another lie. But hey, I was on a roll. Why stop now?
