Page 43 of Callum

“What? No. We’re talking about this.”

“I don’t want to talk to you, Callum.”

His voice is so much softer when he asks, “Then what do you want?”

I want it to never have happened. I want to never have known what it felt like to love and be loved unconditionally. I want to go back to not knowing what it feels like to lose everything. “I want to go to sleep.”

He’s quiet after that, and I settle in for a long night of awkward silence. I can feel his eyes on me, running over my skin like a physical touch. There’s no way I’m going to sleep like this. “Just fucking ask.”

“I thought you didn’t want to talk?”

“I don’t want you sitting here watching me like I’m some pathetic, broken thing, either.”

“I don’t think you’re pathetic.”

Spinning to face him, I yank at the handcuffs until they grate loudly against the headboard. “Then fucking ask.”

“What happened to,” he pauses as if he isn’t sure how to say the next part. I realize the words must be more foreign to him, but it still pisses me off. “Our daughter?”

“I told you—”

“I need more than just ‘she was stillborn’.” Callum’s tone is even, but there’s a sharpness in his eyes that almost looks like pain. “I need to know everything. Did you know you were pregnant when I left? Is that why you were so angry when I showed up at your house?”

“No, I didn’t find out until after you left,” I hesitate, trying to decide if I should tell him what had happened that day. “I had just discovered Ginetta was dealing in some shit she shouldn’t.”

“You gonna tell me what kind of shit? Or is there still a moratorium on all things Ginetta Ricci?”

I’m not loyal to Ginetta anymore. That loyalty proved one-sided, and I’m no longer responsible for keeping her secrets.

The realization feels like a weight has been lifted from my shoulders.

“People,” the word bursts from my lungs after years of holding it in. “Ginetta started ‘trading’ Girls across the state. She claimed it wasn’t human trafficking because the Girls went willingly, but…” I feel the emotion rising in my throat, threatening to choke out the words. “I’ve spoken to them. Most of the new Girls are there against their will. A few of them aren’t even sure how they got there. Some are technically in the Clubs of their own free will, but those Girls are almost always drug addicts, like Lista.”

Callum watches me with a blank expression, and I force myself to plow on. “I confronted Ginetta about it that morning and took a beating from Kyler for it. That bitch has my knife,” I add in an annoyed undertone.

“I know.” My eyes snap to Callum’s face, but he doesn’t explain further. “How did you find out?”

“Well, I talked to the Girls at—”

“No,” Callum shakes his head, turning to lean his back against the headboard. “The baby, Rosalind.”

Oh. Right.

“It was a few weeks later,” I settle against the headboard, stretching my legs out alongside his. I have to get all this out, and it’s easier when I’m not looking at him. “I started feeling sick. I thought I had the flu or something because that shit was not just in the mornings.”

Morning sickness is a goddamn myth. It’s all day sickness. And all night sickness. It’s thinking about trying to exist? I think the fuck not sickness.

“I went to the hospital, and they told me. I’m pretty sure they were expecting me to be excited,” I scoff, remembering the look on the nurse’s face when I pulled my knife on her and demanded she do the test again. “I tried—”

I cut myself off, realizing what I was about to say. I tried to call you. I tried to reach out to Callum countless times in those first few weeks, but his number had changed, and I had no idea where he went.

“West, into the mountains” isn’t exactly a specific enough place for me to mail a fucking letter.

“Eventually, I had to tell Ginetta. I was starting to show, and I could tell she was getting suspicious.”

“What did she say?” Callum’s voice is low, his tone clearly holding something back.

“She panicked,” I snort at the memory of Ginetta’s face when I told her. “I was immediately forced to move into the Convent and couldn’t leave. She wouldn’t even let the other GiGi’s see me. It was like I was some Victorian maiden suddenly Down With Child, and if anyone saw me, it would be the end of my fragile reputation. She was helpful, though. She brought the Docs to check on me and made sure I had all the vitamins and shit.”

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