Page 203 of Call Me Baby 2: Side B

I’m back at the motel, room 613,

the original one⁠—

candle smoke smothering the air, flames casting shadows of him across the wall,

my wrists raw, tied to the headboard,

my legs spread,

rose petals sticking wet to my thighs.

That song, on repeat, on repeat.

Then a cue cracks against a ball.

I flinch, blinking back to Jack & Jagger,

the billiard lights stinging my eyes.

Sounds smear around me⁠—

the song,

clack of balls,

laughter,

pint glasses clinking.

I stand on wobbly knees and scan the corners of the room, the booths, the mirrors, the bar, paranoid and waiting for Hunter to step out of the song.

Every stranger’s face is his.

Every laugh is his.

I distract myself at the pool table,

go back to collecting balls,

dropping them one by one into the rack,

when warmth creeps close behind me, the weight of a shadow pressing between my shoulder blades.

It’s not touching me,

but I know someone’s behind me.

My blood runs cold.

I glance back to the bar.

Andrew’s talking to the bartender.

My heart pounds harder as my gaze wanders to the window’s reflection.

To the shadow standing behind me.

Hunter.