A Harmless Little Game (Harmless #1)(45)
“What’s going on?” one of them asks no one in particular.
“SHE PUSHED ME IN!” Tara screams, pointing to me. As she lifts her arm, her purse strap floats off and the entire bag starts to sink.
“Quit lying, Tara,” Drew says evenly. He looks at the security guard and rolls his eyes, thumbing toward the water. “That one is a little...you know.” He twirls his finger around his ear in a universal gesture.
Mandy gives Drew the side-eye. Jenna giggles.
One of the other officers tosses a red flotation device to Tara, who grabs it and screams, “My clothes! My purse! Someone get in here and find everything!”
No one moves.
“You’ll pay for this, Lindsay! I’m filing assault charges against you!”
“We have video surveillance of this entire area, ma’am,” one of the security guards assures her. “We can review those tapes and provide them to the police so they can make whatever determination they need to make.”
“Good!” she crows. “Because this crazy little bitch just got out of the nuthouse and now she’s stalking me!”
The guard looks at Drew, who slowly shakes his head and mouths, Not true.
Guard #2 pulls the flotation device line in and helps Tara climb out of the water. She’s in her full outfit, still, her suede heels gone from a sleek lime green to a dull brown, her tight dress like sausage casing.
“My phone! My purse! My clothes and shoes and oh, you did this!” Her screams are blood-curdling, but I’m not reacting at all. Drew’s standing over me, hands on hips again, just watching her make a fool of herself.
“And you!” she screams at the guards, who look like Tweedledee and Tweedledum. “Give me your phone! I have to call the police!”
“Not necessary, ma’am,” says Guard #1, who has pulled out a smartphone and a stylus. “I can start the process right now. How about you tell me what happened?” The guard looks back at Drew and winks.
Winks.
Oh, this is going to be so good. As long as I got my body positioned just right and no one sees me grabbing her purse, then I might finally have a tiny shred of revenge here. Tara deserves it.
She deserves way more than being dunked in the water, but it’s a start.
Drew shrugs out of his coat and puts it around my shoulders, his heat still in the thick wool as it surrounds me. Huffing the cloth would be a social faux pas, so I don’t. He takes my elbow and starts to guide me away.
“WHERE ARE YOU GOING?” Tara shrieks. “I WANT HER ARRESTED! SHE ASSAULTED ME!”
Drew looks at the guard and makes a gesture that indicates she’s cuckoo.
Tara turns into a red demon.
“FUCK YOU, DREW! YOU CAN’T DO THIS TO ME, TOO!”
The guard looks at us and makes a motion with his eyebrows and neck like, You’re not kidding.
Drew jogs over to the guy, says something in a whisper tone, and hands him a card. The guard laughs.
“THIS ISN’T FUNNY!” Tara whips around, leaving a stream of water dripping from her hair. She reaches up and touches it. “I just had a blowout this morning! Lindsay!”
She curses and screams as Drew gently leads me away, taking me to the parking lot where I left my car.
Chapter 32
“What was that about?” he asks when we’re far enough away that our eardrums aren’t being pierced by Tara’s screams.
“You saw the whole thing. You tell me.”
“I saw Tara being Tara and a whole new version of Lindsay back there.”
“You mean because I stood up for myself?”
“Is that what you call that?”
“What else was it?”
“Revenge.”
“Same thing.”
His grunt confirms I’m right.
As we walk toward the parking lot, I wonder how he knows where my car is parked. Duh. of course he does. Mom had him here the entire time, so he’d know. I’m sure Drew and Silas and the overnight crew memorized our license plates. If I asked, they probably know my bra size and favorite brand of tampons.
I find my keys and climb in. The car is a tiny little compact, picked with me in mind. I’m terrible in SUVs, and hate to parallel park. The smaller the car, the better. Daddy joked that they almost got me a Smart Car, but settled for this Honda Fit instead. It’s a boring silver color that makes me blend in with the masses.
Perfect.
I pull out of the parking spot, my wet ass soaking the upholstered seats, and realize I’m still wearing Drew’s suit jacket. As I wait at a stop light, I really sink my nose into the cloth. Oh, it smells like him. Lime and cloves and soap and Drew.
My insides tickle and I hear the bones in my neck crackle as my muscles melt. The inviting musk of Drew’s natural body plus cologne is so intoxicating I could get drunk on this alone. It overpowers my own wet dog scent, and I’m grateful.
Beep!
Someone behind me lays on the horn. I look up. Green light. Punching the accelerator a little too hard, I lurch forward but get going, stopping the onslaught of copycat honkers. I know Drew is behind me, driving a big, black SUV meant to be an unmarked car. Right. It’s about as subtle as Tara is kind.
The speed limit on all the in-town roads is only twenty-five, so it takes a bit to get on the main road. Once we hit the long, straight road that will turn into a winding path up the hills to our oceanside compound, I relax even more. The distractions of traffic make it hard for me to drive. Two lanes, one in each direction, and a bunch of desert and ocean are easier to handle.