Page 406 of Call Me Baby 2: Side B

feeling his heat radiating off his joggers.

“You’re walking away from me in alleys, then showing back up in my bed, hiding phones, secrets, women… letting Mrs. Statutory Blonde Bitch touch you in public with me RIGHT THERE⁠—”

His head jerks up,

a panicked flash of guilt in his eyes.

He takes a half-step closer.

“I was tryna get attention off you.

“That fucker⁠—”

“No, Andrew. No,” I cut him off. “That woman put her hands on you. In front of me. And I had to sit there and watch, not knowing if you needed me, hated me, wanted to hurt me, or wanted me to hurt her. Then you start fighting, and all I could do was stand there.”

I swallow back the bitter taste of the morning. “You realize how scary that was?” I choke out, the tears finally burning the corners of my eyes. “I was actually scared, Andrew. More scared than the fuckin’ ride to the complex.”

His nostrils flare, and he cocks his head.

“You think I’d touch you like that?” He pushes out a harsh, disbelieving scoff, head shaking as he steps back into the Civic. “Got no idea. I’d fuckin’ end myself first.”

“I wasn’t scared of you, Drew. I was scared for you,” I spit back, the truth lacerating the space between us. “I was fucking terrified something bad was going to happen to you. And all I could do was watch them drag you away, not knowing if you’re hurt, if you’re leaving, if I’m supposed to run after you, if I’m supposed to grab your shit, or call a lawyer—Andrew, what the fuck?”

He looks down at his blood-smeared knuckles, then back up at my face. “Allison—I—” A breath punches out of him, and he turns, head thrown back, then slides a hand down his face.

When he spins back to me, gold links sling across the dark sweat-stained shirt.

And I hate them.

I’m so fuckin’ sick of lookin’ at them.

The words burst right out of him⁠—

“I thought I could do it. But I can’t do it.

“I can’t do this.

“I thought I could.

“Went back to the penthouse, tried to ignore the fact Raymond’s your goddamn stepdad. That your stepdad’s eating you out. That fuckin’ guy—I’m shakin’ HANDS with him, Allison.” His brows jump sky-high. “You got me shakin’ this motherfucker’s hand after he licked your pussy,” he lashes, eyes going flat. “I did it your way. We signed a contract—the closest we ever had to havin’ somethin’, by your standards. And you still couldn’t last a fuckin’ week for me. Not a week.”

My gaze falls to his chest,

to the gold chain,

and my gut twists as I imagine it⁠—

her sucking his dick⁠—

and it makes me feel hands and mouths.

A whole army of them, all over me.

“Allison, you do shit that makes me believe you give a damn about me. Like, I feel it. I know I feel it. But then you go and do this, and then I feel fuckin’ crazy for believing anything at all. ‘Cause then the truth starts lookin’ real fuckin’ clear—you don’t give a fuck.

“Not about me.

“Not about us.