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“Hot lips?”

I scowl. “Stop calling me that, Mapquest. I need your help.”

“You just called me Mapquest.”

“Yeah. It’s your fucking nickname. Now get your ass to your truck and come get me.”

“It’s the middle of the night.”

“Wah, fucking wah. Are you in your truck yet?”

“You better be dying.”

I glance at the blood soaking through my bandage. “Working on it.”

“Asshole.”

I hear him moving around.

I keep walking until I reach a row of tall shrubs.

Then I turn and stare at Callie’s house in the darkness.

For a second, it’s almost like I can see her peacefully sleeping inside.

But that’s crazy. I can’t.

And I should be walking away.

It was one night... that can’t mean anything. That doesn’t mean anything.

And I’m a goddamn liar.

But at least I’m only lying to myself.

Until she wakes up in the morning. Alone.

I hear his door slam.

“I’m in my truck now. Where am I going?”

I continue walking, every step more painful than the last.

I spot an address on her neighbor’s mailbox and plug it into my phone. When I get a map of the area, I pick a spot, zoom in, and rattle off the address.

“Be there in ten.”

I end the call, trying not to think about how much I regret leaving her.

It’s better this way. Safer.

I’ll never see Callie Quinn again.

Something tightens in my chest.

Fuck.

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