I cleared out the few things I had accumulated during the couple of months that I’d been working. There was a mug, and a couple pairs of free sunglasses; it wasn’t much.

I had Amy’s number, and she was really the only person I’d be staying in contact with. I couldn’t remember leaving or how everyone watched me leave. I couldn’t remember walking to get on the “L.” The only thing I could think about was how to fix all of this. Not only had Grant ruined Jake, he’d screwed me over. There was no way I was going to live this down in this city when it all came out.

As soon as I found an empty seat in the emptiest car of the train, I called my mother, the decision made. There was only one solution I could come up with that lessened the damage to just me. I didn’t explain anything, just told her I was moving out, leaving Chicago, and that I needed her help. Then I made the toughest call yet.

Jake answered after one ring.

“Hey,” he said tonelessly, not giving me much to work with.

“Hey,” I returned, equally verbal as the city whirled past me. “You see Yawper?”

“Hard for me to miss. It just got picked up by mainstream media a few minutes ago… My agent and manager both reamed me. I’m about to get reamed by Yerac soon, probably after today’s game.” He sighed. “We really got fucked on this, Andrea.”

To think that this morning, I was on top of the world, and within the span of a few hours, my world had come crashing down.

“How’s Tate?”

I heard loud breathing on the other side of the phone, as though he were trying to control his emotions, or his anger. Both, I’d guess. “DCFS called. They’re picking Tate up from school today. Apparently, the boy’s long-lost father called them and ‘wants to be involved in the child’s life’ all of a sudden. I mean seriously, what the fuck? They can’t just do this.”

I recalled the brief paragraph that accompanied the picture of Jake and Tate. His “family,” I mused, shaking my head. How convenient. All of it. Was Grant behind that, too? Would he go that far to get me back? I knew he was controlling, but it was even worse than that; he was absolutely crazy.

“I think they can, Jake. Dammit,” I said, wishing Jake and I had thought this through better. “I knew we should have gone to DCFS, figured out a way to keep Tate in our custody while his aunt recovered.”

Jake scoffed at that. “Doesn’t work that way. This gets even worse though. Tate’s father—he’s a drug addict. The guy is as skinny as a stick and blows all of his money on meth,” he added. “I have no idea how this guy even came into the picture when he hadn’t been around since Tate was a baby.”

“Probably a money grab.” When you made as much money as Jake did, lawyers would use any excuse to sue him if it meant they had a shot at his millions.

“I’m just—I’m pissed. The worst part of the whole thing is about how this will affect Tate.”

My heart lurched. I needed to come clean about the reason the attack was launched in the first place. “Jake, I have to tell you something.”

“What? Are you okay?”

“Well, no, but this isn’t about me right now. I feel awful about everything that has happened to you, because it’s all my fault.”

“It’s not your fault. Don’t say that.”

“Yes it is. You don’t understand. The only reason those pictures got posted was because Grant isn’t over me. I’m pretty sure he’s been looking for dirt on me, you, and us together ever since that night in the bar.”

Silence on the other end of the phone.

“Jake? You there?”

“Yeah. I’m here. I’m just picturing what I’ll do to that motherfucker the next time I see him. I’m gonna fucking kill him. Fuck it, I’m going to give Fred on the South Side a call and see if he can put a group together to go after him. I’m gonna—”

Jake kept talking about how badly he wanted to harm Grant. I thought about his gang tattoos and his dark past and how—at his core—he did self-identify as a sort of vigilante. He was a good man, but a man who pushed boundaries and didn’t always follow the rules. He was a calm man, but if someone crossed his path and threatened Jake’s friends or loved ones, God help them. Because he would bring the wrath. And now, his whole future was at stake because of my own past demons that I’d yet to put to rest.

“No! Stop! This whole thing stops here,” I shouted, cutting him off in the middle of his angry rant. “This is my fault. And I’ve decided that the best thing for everyone at this point will be if I just move back home to Tennessee.”

“Andrea! No! What about everything we’ve started here? You and me? You’re just going to throw the last few weeks away? Fuck that. I won’t let you.”

“There is no other way. I got fired from my job today, and I already called my mother to come pick me up to drive me back to Tennessee. I’m sorry, Jake. I knew I should have never dated players.”

I didn’t wait for Jake to make his case. I just hung up the phone.

Tears streamed down my face as I stared out the window of the empty train car. Jake would get over me, I reasoned. I’d move back to Tennessee and do a great freaking job running the social media campaign for Barnes’ Bar. And if Grant knew I was leaving Chicago, he might leave Jake alone. There were no other options left. Grant played to win—he played dirty—and I wasn’t the type of girl to stoop to his level. As much as I wished I was, I just wasn’t.

I hated to admit it, but my mother was dead right: I wasn’t cut out for the big-city life. It hurt now, but I might as well cut my losses and get the hell out of Chicago.

I leaned my head against the window, looking outside at the big-city skyscrapers. They would soon become a distant memory of a fun summer internship I once had.