She was out on the porch before he caught up with her. Tate halfway expected him to grab her, to pick her up and carry her inside. But he didn't. He hurried down the steps alongside her, matching her step for step as she headed towards the cars.
“Just let me go,” she insisted, walking next to the Jag. He finally grabbed her, pulled her to a stop.
“We are long past that. So what happened to promises, huh? You won't freak out, right? Wrong. I knew you'd fucking do this. The minute shit gets real, you fucking flip. Have you ever stuck anything out? Ever given anyone the benefit of the doubt?” he demanded. She slapped at his arm.
“Sure, when they're not the goddamn devil!” she yelled back.
“I am not the devil! If anyone here is the devil, it's you! You lied to me! You goddamn liar!” Jameson shouted. Tate got up in his face.
“You lied first! Such sweet words, 'only you, Tatum. It was only ever you',” she mocked him. “Hadn't slept with a soul, you were 'waiting for' me. Bullshit.”
“I never lied, but what about you? You said Nick was nothing, that there was no relationship, yet you always call on him, don't you? Looks real fucking suspicious,” he snapped. She steeled her nerves, willed away the tears.
“Your lies are worse,” she hissed. “Why don't you just go be with her!? You obviously can't stay away from each other.”
“I wasn't with her. I don't want her. I want you,” he replied through clenched teeth. She shook her head.
“Well, too bad, cause I don't want you,” she told him.
“Don't lie to me, Tatum.”
“I'm not. It was always just fun, wasn't it? It's not a big deal, we can just -,”
“Stop lying.”
“It's just sex! You don't even give a fuck, you couldn't care if I -,”
Jameson let out a shout and slammed the side of his fist against the car window. It shattered and Tate shrieked, throwing her hands up. Blood ran down the side of his palm, dripping onto the ground, but he looked like he didn't even notice. He stared down at her, his eyes on fire.
“Stop. Fucking. Lying,” he growled. She glared up at him.
“Look. It's over. I'm going. This, whatever it is, is over. Deal with it,” she told him, then turned around and strode towards the Bentley.
“Does he know!?” Jameson called out, following her. “Did your boyfriend help you plan this? Or are you surprising him, too?” She managed a laugh, wiping at her eyes.
“Always about you, isn't it.”
“You fucking make it that way, not me. Does he know you like I do? Does he know that at the first hint of trouble, you're going to flip the fuck out? Does he know that you'll use him, lie to him, then leave him?” he demanded, hurrying around and getting in front of her, stopping her mid-stride. She took a shuddering breath.
“He knows me better than you,” she told him. Rage washed over his face.
“Not possible. So what kind of lie did you tell him? You said you loved me; what kind of lies does he get to hear?” Jameson said in a deadly soft voice.
“They're not lies when I say them to him,” Tate whispered back.
Both Jameson's hands were around her neck, shoving her back into the side of the Bentley. She grunted, his thumbs digging into the sensitive skin under her chin. She glared at him and he leaned in close, forcing her back over the hood, his forearms pressed against her chest.
“Don't fucking say that to me,” he hissed. She lifted her hands, slowly gripped onto his wrists.
“But you hate it when I lie,” she pointed out. His fingers tightened on her neck.
“You weren't lying when you said those things to me,” he said. She raised an eyebrow.
“You're so sure?” Tate whispered.
Jameson stared at her for a long time. His eyes seemed to wander over every inch of her skin. She didn't care. This would be the last time she saw him, the last time she got to touch him. Now that it was upon her, she didn't want it to end. A tear finally slipped out, sliding over her temple, into her hair.
“Sure enough,” he whispered back. She took a shaky breath.
“Liar.”
He let her go then, and she stumbled forward. He backed away and stared down at her, shoving his hands into his front pockets. When she stood upright, he continued staring at her. His eyes were hard, and cold. They threw her back in time, back to that first night. Back to him forcing her out of his apartment, looking at her like she was insignificant. Like she was nothing. She gasped, choked on a sob. Her eyes filled up with tears at the same time Sanders hurried up to them.
“Is everything alright?” he breathed, standing next to Jameson. Tate couldn't answer. Just kept staring into her past.