I leaned close and searched her face. I saw no cuts, no bruises, no sign of physical trauma. But that didn't mean she hadn't been hurt. Trying to keep my voice calm, I asked again, "You okay?"
She gave a weak nod, but still said nothing. For some reason, that worried the hell out of me. She needed help and more than just a shirt. I recalled Bishop, standing a few feet away.
Normally, he was good in a crisis. Better than good, actually. Shouldn't he be doing something?
I turned to him and said, "What the hell is wrong with you? You just gonna stand there? She's hurt."
He flicked his gaze toward Chloe. "That's not whatshesaid."
My voice rose. "Don't listen toher."
Finally, behind me, I heard her voice, sounding almost annoyed. "What?"
I turned to see her glaring first at me, and then at Bishop. I joined in, giving him a look that should've sent him running.
He gave something like a shrug. "You already gave her your shirt. What do you wantmeto do? Give her my pants?" He made a move to unbutton his jeans. "Well, if that's what it takes –"
"No!" Chloe blurted out.
Bishop stopped in mid-motion. "Alright," he told her. "But hey, I offered." He turned to me and said, "There. You happy?"
At this point, I'd be happier if I were beating the piss out of him. "No," I said through gritted teeth. "You aresucha dick. You know that?"
"Pretty much."
I turned back to Chloe. "Now c'mon," I urged, "tell us what happened."
"Nothing," she said. "It's fine. It's just –" She lifted her hand in a vague, dismissive motion. "It's just all really stupid." She glanced over at Bishop, who had turned, and was now studying her house with a cool, calculating gaze.
I reached out to squeeze her hand. "Don't pay any attention to him. You running from someone? Someone in the house?" Imagining all the possibilities, I felt a cold rage settle over me. If someonewasin there, they were about to get a little visit. "Want us to take care of it?"
Looking almost embarrassed, Chloe shook her head. "No," she mumbled. "It's nothing like that."
Working hard to keep the edge out of my voice, I said, "A boyfriend, then?" I gave her hand another squeeze. Too hard? I sure as hell hoped not. "He hurt you?"
"God no," she said, sounding like she actually meant it.
Again, I studied her face. She didn'tlooklike she was lying. But how would I really know?
"Hey, Lawton," Bishop said. "Maybe instead of interrogating her, you could bring her inside, hose her off or something."
Chloe turned to glower at him. "Hose me off? Seriously?"
I released her hand and reached out with both arms. "Forget him," I said. "Now c'mon, let's get you inside."
She pulled back. "No."
I stopped in mid-reach. "No?"
She gave my house a worried glance. "I mean, thanks. But –" She bit her lip, as if unsure what to say next.
"But what?" I asked.
"I can't."
Confused, I shook my head. "You sure?"
She nodded. "Maybe we could just sit in your car or something?"
