Chapter 15

Sitting in Jake's penthouse, I pulled my thoughts to the present. So Jake wanted to handle my ex-boyfriend? Why would he do that?

Sitting across from me, he was still waiting for my response.

"Why?" I asked.

"Why what?"

"Why would you want to get involved?" I said. "I mean, you weren't the one who dated him."

"Good thing, since he's not my type."

"Oh, you know what I mean," I said. "He's my mistake. Not yours."

"But I know him," Jake said.

"How?" I asked.

He shrugged. "Friend of a friend." He leaned forward, and his gaze became intense. "Tell me. Did he ever hurt you?"

I drew back. "What? You mean physically? No. Never." I glanced away. "Not really."

Jake's voice was flat. "Not really?"

I pushed a hand through my hair. "Alright," I said, "here's the truth. The last couple times I saw him, yeah, it started to head in that direction. But right after it did, I was out of there. I'm not stupid, you know. I saw the signs."

"Such as?"

This was getting way too personal. "None of your business," I said.

I didn't want to talk about the bruises on my arms, where Rango "accidentally" gripped me too hard. Or the time he showed up in my apartment in the middle of the night, convinced he'd find me with another guy. And I definitely didn't want to mention the time he'd "jokingly" called me a slut when I smiled at some bartender.

Jake was still looking at me. He waited.

"There's nothing worth mentioning," I said. "So don't ask."

"Should I ask him."

I tried to laugh. "First, you'd have to find him."

As for me, I knew where exactly to find Rango. He owned a club in Rochester Hills a couple of restaurants in Troy, and some title-loan place downtown. Normally, he hung out at his club, especially on weekends.

Rango was a celebrity of sorts, a hotshot D.J. with a big local following. Of course, that knowledge wasn't exactly a secret. If Jake knew anything at all about Rango, he'd know exactly where to find him.

"Or maybe," Jake said, "we'll let Rango find us." He grinned. "Who knows? Might be fun."

Just like it always had, that smile of his was doing funny things to my insides. Watching him, I tried to figure out if the years – or his amazing success, whatever the source – had somehow changed him. I didn't think so. He was still the same larger-than-life guy that I'd fallen for all those years ago, before I knew what love really was.

Who knows. Maybe I still didn't know.

"Well?" Jake said. "Ready for some payback?"

"Technically," I said, "I've given him some payback already."

"Yeah. I heard," Jake said. "How's that working out for you?"

From the look on his face, he already knew the answer. My payback attempts were mostly pathetic. Unlike me, Rango hadn't spent the last few weeks looking over his shoulder. He hadn't had to find a new place to live, or buy new clothes without any money. And he sure as hell wasn't missing the only car he had ever owned.

Besides, what was Jake plan? We were a long way from home, and I didn't see any shopping carts.

"What are you planning to do?" I tried to laugh. "Beat him up?"

Jake shrugged.

"Oh come on," I said. "Don't you think we're a little old for that?"

"Never too old for a fight," Jake said.

I rolled my eyes. "Yeah, well, you've already had one today, so let's cross that off the list. Alright?"

He leaned back and crossed his arms. "How about if he hits me first?"

I narrowed my gaze. "Why would he hit you?"

"I dunno. It's just a question."

"Well, I guess," I said. "I mean, if he hit you first, I wouldn't want you to not defend yourself, if that's what you're asking."

"Good to know." He glanced at his watch. "By the way, we're going out tonight."

"Out? Where?"

"It's some museum thing," he said.

I stared at him. "A museum thing? You're kidding right?"

"Why?" he said. "You got something against museums?"

"No," I said. "But be serious. They're not exactly you're thing." I studied his face. "Are they?"

He left me hanging a few seconds, and then grinned. "No."

"Then why would you go?" I asked.

"You mean, why would we go?"

"Either way," I said. "Why?"

"Why not?"

"Well, that clears up everything," I said.

"Hey," he said, "it'll be fun. I promise."

I gave him a doubtful look.

"And," he said, "you're going shopping in an hour."

"For what?"

His gaze drifted to my makeshift outfit. "Clothes."

"I don't have time to shop," I said.

It wasn't technically true. The way it looked, I had plenty of time. What I didn't have was money.

I bit my lip and tried to figure a way out of this. I considered my suitcases, smashed in Jake's trunk. Even if they were somehow accessible, the clothes I did have were pathetic.

Just like everything else today.