Page 365

Not somebody’s wife.

Not the ICU nurse who worked twelve-hour shifts and came home to laundry and homework and bottles.

Not Xay’s sweet girl.

Just Samantha.

And apparently Samantha had been in there starving like a motherfucker.

That realization should’ve made me feel worse than it did.

I had guilt.

Hell yeah, I had guilt, I wasn’t a fucking sociopath.

But regret?

I searched for it.

Really searched.

And that motherfucker wasn’t hitting nearly as hard as it probably should’ve.

Especially when I looked at Levin and immediately remembered exactly why my legs felt like this.

I pointed at him.

“Stop looking at me.”

“I ain’t doing shit.”

“Yes, you are.”

“What I’m doing?”

“Looking like you wanna do it again.”

His eyebrow went up.

“You don’t?”

I opened my mouth.

Closed it.

Picked up my shoe.

“Take me the fuck home.”

He laughed.

“That’s what I thought.”

“Fuck you.”

“You gotta stop saying that shit to me, Sam.”

I looked over my shoulder.