Sometimes, it felt like every private moment was right out there in the public eye. Some guys got off on that stuff. Not me. Not anymore.
The way it looked, Shaggy wasn't liking it any more than I had.
Good.
I thought of his phone, aimed at Chloe's face while she cried against me. What kind of assholes does that? Maybe I should makehimcry. It wouldn't be hard. One quick punch, and he'd be sobbing on the sidewalk like the pussy he was.
And then, I could take a picture ofhim– see ifthatcheered Chloe up.
Probably lucky for him – and who knows, maybe lucky for me – that his girlfriend had come along when she did.
From the other side of my car, she was still screaming at him. "At my class reunion! At my uncle's funeral!" She reached into the shrimp container and pulled out a whole fistful. She flung the mess in Shaggy's direction and cursed like a truck-driver when none hit home.
I glanced around, taking in the crowd. At least they weren't watching Chloe anymore. I looked toward my car, wondering if I could rush Chloe into it and drive off, leaving Shaggy and the redhead to fight it out while the crowd gawked at them instead of us.
No. I couldn’t. Because like a dumb-ass, I'd already destroyed my headlights, along with the windshield and mirrors. I wouldn't be driving Chloe anywhere, at least not safely.
Damn it.
Besides, the argument was winding down. Jen was practically on him now. As I watched with the rest of the crowd, she ripped the phone from Shaggy's hand and hurled it to the pavement. It hit hard and shattered into broken bits.
"My phone!" Shaggy yelled.
Jen gave a bark of laughter. "Your phone?Yourphone?"
"Hey, you gave it to me."
"No. I let you use it," she said, "It'smyphone! And what did you promise?"
"Uh–"
"You promised to leave it home tonight. Butdidyou?" She turned toward the crowd. "Did he?"
A few people shook their heads. Someone near the back was still taking pictures, lighting the scene with random flashes.
Shaggy turned toward the flashing. "Dude, c'mon! Cut that out! Give us some privacy, will ya?"
I heard a laugh. It was Chloe, laughing against my chest. And just like before, the laughter sounded wrong – sharp and half-crazed. She pulled herself away and stumbled toward the shattered phone, lying a few feet away. She looked down at the thing and choked, out, "It doesn't look okay anymore."
Shaggy gave her an annoyed look. "What's so damn funny?"
Chloe was still laughing. "Do you really have to ask?" She turned to the redhead. "Sorry, I know it's not funny. I just–" She looked to the phone. "Oh my God. Isowanted to do that."
The redhead gave Chloe an odd look. "Weren't you our waitress?"
A new male voice rang out somewhere behind us. "She's not gonna be anyone's waitress if she doesn't get her butt back to work, pronto."
Chapter 8
Turns out, the guy was her boss – some pencil-necked twerp with an attitude. He'd been giving Chloe a hard time for five minutes now, and I wasn't liking it.
My hands were loose, but twitchy at my side. I was aching to hit someone. Whether the guy knew it or not, he was skating on thin ice.
The only thing that kept me from striding forward to give him a taste of his own medicine was the sure knowledge that Chloe wouldn't like it. So I stood a few feet away, watching him with open hostility until he stopped short when he noticed me standing there.
His eyes widened. "Hey, aren't you–"
"Yeah," I said, flicking my head toward Chloe. "Chloe's boyfriend."
