Savage (The Callie Leveaux Series Book 2) (7 page)

“I don’t know,” she says, shrugging again. “I just never shut it off, Tommy.”

“Obviously,” I snort. “You’re still getting calls and texts on the fuckin’ thing from your clients about appointments.”

“Well, I’m sorry, baby. I didn’t exactly give anyone notice that I was quitting,” she attempts, but I cut her off. “I have to…”

“Have you talked to any of them?”

“What?”

“You heard me, Callie. Have you talked to any of your clients since we got together?”

“Yeah, but…”

Immediately, my brain is flooded with images I’d rather not see. The same shit that kept me tossing and turning in my bed for years.

Before I can think, I blurt out my next question.

“Are you still taking clients?”

“What?” she asks as she rinses the last of the shampoo from her hair.

Her eyes pop open, but stay straight ahead. I’m not sure if she’s panicking or pissed.

“Are you still working, Callie? Have you fucked any of them?”

She turns her head slowly and when her eyes meet mine, she looks like she’s been slapped.

“Are you serious?” she asks, freezing in place as shock covers her face. “Are you asking me if I’ve been fucking other people behind your back, Tommy? Is that the fight we’re about to have?”

“Just answer the question, Callie!”

I don’t have time to register what’s happening until the massive bottle of shampoo she’s been holding is flying at my head.

“Fuck you, Tommy!” she screams, fury and hurt clouding her face. “How’s that for an answer? Fuck. You.”

I’m about to speak but this time, she cuts me off.

“Oh my God, you are such a fucking asshole! I fucking quit a job I love for
you
, I stay locked up in this fucking apartment for
you
, I come to your office every fucking day and fuck you on your lunch break,” she spits out, angrily shutting the water off and reaching for the towel on the hook.

“Don’t act like that’s just for me, sweetheart,” I counter, getting madder by the minute that she’s got the nerve to try and turn this shit around on me.

“Whatever! A hooker who loves sex, what a shocker, Tommy!” she throws her hands up in frustration and rolls her eyes at me. “That’s not my fucking point.”

“Then what is?” I ask her, folding my arms over my chest and fuming as I hold her infuriated eyes.

“My point is you knew walking into this that I’ve never been committed to
anyone
. I didn’t even want that shit before now, but I’m trying for
you
, Tommy. I have
never
lied to you, not once,” she grounds out. “I’ve been more honest with you than anyone in my life, but that doesn’t matter. You find a fucking phone that I didn’t shut off and without letting me explain myself you just automatically assume I’m fucking around on you?”

“Well, what the fuck do you expect me to think?” I shout. “I have no idea what the fuck you’re doing here all day while I’m at work. I woke up today and you were gone. You say you’re not doing anything wrong, but I find the fuckin’ thing hidden in your nightstand, Callie?”

“I told you where I was this morning and it wasn’t fucking hidden, Tommy!” she screams at me. “I threw it in there because after I quit, it wouldn’t stop going the fuck off! I had to text them back and refer them to someone else. I gave them zero notice and was booked for fucking months! What the hell did you think was gonna happen? You were just gonna talk me into a fucking relationship and everything else would just magically fall into place? Life doesn’t work that way, Tommy. I had to keep the phone on to refer them to other people. I made commitments to these people, baby. I can’t just shut the phone off and lock myself away from the world for you.”

“First of all, I never said you had to fucking lock yourself away, Cal,” I snap back at her. “Second, what about the commitment you made to me? If you haven’t been hiding anything from me, why the fuck didn’t I know about it? Why didn’t you tell me you kept it on? No, you know what? Fuck that. Why didn’t you tell me you were still fucking talking to them, Callie?”

“Because I didn’t think it was that big a deal, Tommy!” she exclaims. “I assumed you understood that part of me walking away from that meant I’d have to refer my clients to someone else. If I’d known you were going to fucking freak out on me I would have said something. I didn’t know you were gonna be such a dick about it!”

“So I’m a dick because I don’t want you talking to men who have paid to fuck you?”

“No, you’re a dick for going through my shit because after everything I’ve done, it’s still not enough to make you trust me. You’re a dick because you’re accusing me of fucking them behind your back, Tommy. You’re a complete asshole for making me feel like shit when I didn’t do a fucking thing wrong here. It’s not like I walked into this shit keeping secrets. You knew exactly what you were getting with me from the get,” she continues her rant. “Meanwhile, the second I agree, you start going all fucking crazy possessive on me and making a hundred fucking demands, all of which, might I add, I’ve done without question and it’s
still
not good enough! You still had the fucking balls to walk your ass in here and accuse me of cheating on you.”

As I meet her eyes, I see the disappointment and anger that’s still coursing through her. One look into those furious grey eyes of her and the guilt spreads over me like wildfire.

Once I find my voice, I hate the way it breaks and I shake my head at her.

“Jesus, Callie,” I start, bitter amusement that neither of us feel creeping into my words. “You know, you make it sound like I treat you like total shit, baby. If I’m so fucking horrible to you, why the fuck are you even with me?”

“Because I love you, you fucking idiot!” she shouts at me. “And you’re not horrible to me, but you have to trust me, Tommy! I don’t know what the hell I’m doing but do you honestly think I’d fucking cheat on you?”

When I don’t meet her eyes, she misunderstands my silent guilt. Stepping closer to me, she grips my chin gently, forcing me to meet her eyes.

“Do you really think I’d fucking do that to you?” she asks me in a softer tone. “Because if you do, you need to answer your own fucking question and ask yourself why the hell you’re with me.”

“You know why I’m with you, Callie,” I tell her, my voice low as I begin shaking my head and rest my hand on her neck, letting out a low sigh. “Listen, I do trust you. No, I don’t think you’d ever cheat on me, but I saw the fucking phone and it didn’t make sense why you’d still have it.”

“So why didn’t you just ask me?” she asks quietly, shaking her head at me as she pulls away from my touch. “If you trust me so much, why was your first reaction to storm into the bathroom while I was in the fucking shower and start freaking the hell out, Tommy?”

“I’m sorry. I know I overreacted.”

“You think?” she snaps, rolling her eyes at me and storming passed me to her closet, still fuming as she throws on a faded T-shirt.

“I said I was sorry, Cal,” I attempt, but she’s still pissed. “Can we drop it?”

“No, we aren’t going to fucking drop it!” she says as she comes out, towel drying her hair. “You fucking infuriate me, Tommy! You act like I have no fucking respect for you. Do you seriously think I’d put up with this shit from anyone else?”

“No,” I admit, letting out a low groan.

“No, I wouldn’t and do you wanna know why?”

“I’m sure you’re going to tell me.”

“You’re damn right I am,” she snaps. “Because I don’t fucking love anyone else. I don’t give a shit about anyone else but you, Tommy. If you don’t see that by now, I don’t know what to fucking tell you.”

“I know…”

“It’s not like you’re a fucking saint. How would you like it if I went through all of your shit?”

“Go through my shit,” I challenge her. “You really think I give a fuck? I’m not hiding anything.”

“Neither am I, you jackass!” she yells, closing the space between us. “What’s it gonna take, Tommy? What is it gonna take for you to trust me? I’ve done everything you’ve asked of me, but it’s still not enough so tell me what you want from me. Obviously I’m not getting it, so I guess you’re gonna have to fucking spell it out for me.”

“Don’t hide shit from me, Cal…”

“I wasn’t hiding anything from you!” she shouts in frustration.

“You were talking to people who used to fuck you, Callie and I didn’t fucking know about it,” I ground out. “There’s not a whole hell of a lot I don’t know about you, sweetheart. If you really believed there was nothing wrong with that, you would have told me about the fucking phone calls.”

“Tommy, I…”

“Am I wrong?” I ask, cutting her off. The look in her eyes tells me I’m right and she knows it.

“No,” she starts eventually. “But…”

“But nothing, Callie. You wanna know what I want? Why don’t we start with you not fucking doing shit like that. Worry about our commitment to each other before you worry about your commitment to them. That’s what I want.”

While I can see she understands my point, it’s obvious this argument is far from over by the storm brewing behind her grey eyes.

“You want me to get rid of the phone? Fine. Give me the fucking phone.”

“Callie,” I sigh, taking in her familiar scent and letting it wash over me. “That’s not the…”

“Give it to me, Tommy,” she snaps, breaking my trance as she pulls it from my grip.

Before I can even process what she’s doing, she pushes passed me and slides the balcony door open. The next thing I hear is the loud thud of plastic hitting concrete. Shaking myself free of my thoughts, I walk out to find her smashing the phone into the concrete slab of our balcony with a hammer from the small toolbox I leave outside.

“What the hell are you doing? That’s a five hundred dollar phone, Cal!”

“Yeah, well, now it’s a pile of fucking trash,” she retorts, standing to face me and filling one hand with the broken plastic. “Here’s the sim card,” she says, placing it in the other hand. “The password to my other phone is eleven seventeen,
your
birthday
. My workbag and everything I ever used with anyone else was taken to the dumpster the morning after we got together. I am looking you in the eye and telling you that I swear on my life that I have not been with anyone else. When I told you I was yours, I fucking meant it. If this doesn’t prove it to you, I don’t know what the fuck else to tell you, Tommy.”

“Callie,” I start, but she lowers her gaze and angrily swipes her cheek before walking passed where I’m dropping the destroyed phone into the trash and closing the balcony door.

She makes it halfway to her bedroom door before she turns and faces me.

“You know, I know I’ve done a lot of fucked up shit in my life so I could completely understand why someone wouldn’t trust me,” she says, her teary eyes meeting mine and making me feel like the dick that I am. “But I’ve
never
treated you like the rest of them, Tommy. Not once. Do you wanna know why?”

“Why?”

“Because I love you and because even when I was too afraid to admit that, I still believed you weren’t like them. Because I could see through all the bullshit you projected and I thought you could see through mine.”

“I can, Callie,” I say quietly, closing the gap between us and searching her eyes. “I do, baby. I know you’re not that girl. It’s not that I don’t trust you, I just… Fuck, I don’t know.”

“You might know, but I do,” she says, shaking her head and holding my eyes as she lifts my hand in front of us. “Open it.”

“What?”

“Open your hand, Tommy.”

Taking a deep breath, I reluctantly open my clenched fist, revealing what I’d hoped had magically disappeared. The sim card she’d handed me with every text, every image, all of her clients personal contact with her was still resting in my palm. The look of disappointment and hurt on her face is unexplainable.

I start to speak, to say what I don’t have a fucking clue, but she doesn’t let me.

“There’s your answer,” she says quietly, wiping her cheeks clean and shaking her head. “I’m going to bed. Kiss my ass for making me cry, you fucking jerk.”

Before I can respond, she spins, huffing toward her bedroom door. For the first time since I’ve known her, she slams it in my face.

CHAPTER EIGHT

The Truth

I didn’t sleep for shit last night.

When the sun blazes into my bedroom window an hour after I finally do fall asleep, it takes all of my strength to not scream. The only thing that stops me is that it’s Sunday and I’ve got the day off.

Not only was last night’s fight the first we’ve ever had, none of our irritations with each other have ever lasted more than a couple hours.

She’s damn sure never locked me out of her fucking bedroom.

I roll over and reluctantly push myself off the bed. As I expected, Callie’s door is still shut tight when I make my way past it to the bathroom. Silently trying the knob again, I let out a sigh when I realize it’s still locked.

Not that I blame her.

I can’t believe how quickly everything went to shit last night.

I’d love to be able to say that sim card was still in my palm last night because I was trying to protect her. I’d love to say I immediately thought of her privacy, planning to destroy it in case any of her creepy ass former clients were lurking and looking for a way to get back at her. I’d love to say I just wanted to make sure all the personal shit she had on that card was erased and that I’d had no intention of looking at it.

I’d love to say any of that, but it would be bullshit.

The only reason I still had that fucking sim card was because Callie was right. For a second, I didn’t believe her and the worst part about that is it’s not her fault at all.

It’s not that I don’t trust her.

The person I don’t trust is me.

As bad as I want to think otherwise, I still don’t see me being a good enough reason for her to walk away from everything she’s ever known. I’ve gotten over a lot of the bullshit that’s fucked with me since I was a kid, but I’m not immune to it. Combine that with the fact Callie’s the only person I’ve ever let myself be vulnerable with and it’s a recipe for self doubt and disaster.