Everything in his life just seemed to have fallen apart: his family, his relationships, his place in the world. On the few occasions they had talked on the phone, his dad had yelled at him, beyond furious for his leaving. After the first few calls James had turned his phone off. He didn’t need his dad’s rants to know that he was being irresponsible and reckless. He knew he shouldn’t have left like that. But he couldn’t go back. Not now. He couldn’t handle his dad at the moment. Arthur missed nothing and had no qualms about using people’s weaknesses against them; in his current state of mind James would find himself married off to Megan before he knew it. Because his dad was right: he was weak. He was weak for Ryan, always had been and always would be, but he was much weaker without Ryan.
Sighing, James turned onto his stomach, wrapping his arms around his pillow. He wanted to move on—he wasn’t a masochist—but it was impossible when every fiber of his being wanted Ryan, a deep ache that couldn’t be satisfied no matter how many interesting places Luke dragged him to. It was almost like a physical need, like hunger or sleep.
God, he fucking hated how purposeless and off-balance he felt without one person’s presence in his life. His pride resented it, but his pride couldn’t change how he felt. At first Luke had told him it was normal to feel down after a bad breakup and that he needed to just ride it out and move on, but after almost two months, Jamie knew it wouldn’t be so easy for him. He didn’t feel down.
He felt like a fish out of water—trying to breathe and failing.
Chapter 24
The vibration of his phone woke him up in the very early morning again. Ryan reached for it blindly.
“Yeah,” he said, still half-asleep.
“I cannot find James,” Arthur said.
Ryan’s eyes snapped open. “What?”
“Neither James nor Whitford’s boy is answering his phone,” Arthur said. “Normally I would think little of it, but…”
“But?” Ryan said.
“Whitford called me last night, asking if I heard from James. He confided to me that his son has been missing for a week—”
“What?” Ryan said, sitting up. “You mean Luke has disappeared?”
“Yes,” Arthur said. “Whitford’s Russians employees haven’t seen Luke in a week. Whitford suspects the boy has been kidnapped by one of his…business rivals.” Arthur’s voice was extremely dry as he said it.
All Ryan could hear was his heart pounding in his ears. “What about Jamie?”
“No one knows,” Arthur said briskly. “Whitford’s employees have sometimes seen him with Whitford’s boy, but it appears James has rarely accompanied his friend to his business meetings. No one knows where James resides. He used his credit card in Moscow a few weeks ago, but after that, nothing. For all we know, he might be completely safe, but…”
“But he may not be.”
Arthur’s silence spoke volumes: he was worried his son was caught up in whatever shady business Whitford was involved in.
“You said you couldn’t find Jamie,” Ryan said.
Arthur heaved a sigh. “Russia is…a very different place. People I spoke with on the phone were either unhelpful on purpose or didn’t understand what I wanted from them, which is not unlikely, considering that most of those people seem to have only a rudimentary grasp of English. I’m afraid the only course of action is to travel there, but I have business meetings that I can’t—”
“I’ll go,” Ryan said curtly, cutting him off. “If you can have a visa arranged for me fast—”
“You’ll have it by this afternoon,” Arthur said. “My plane is ready to leave at a moment’s notice. I’ve already spoken with your employer and he agreed to give you a vacation.”
Ryan would have laughed if his stomach wasn’t tied in knots.
“How thoughtful of you,” he said. “But a little presumptuous, don’t you think?”
“Is it?” Arthur said. “I’m not blind, Hardaway. You could never say no to my son when he needed you. You’re as pathetic about him as he is about you. You’re the perfect person to send to Russia, because I know you won’t return without him.”
Ryan wondered what Arthur would say if he knew the extent of his attachment to his son.
“Bring my son back, Ryan,” Arthur said, startling him by the use of his first name. “Tell him to cease being such a drama queen.” He added tersely, “Tell him his family wants him back. His point has been driven home.”
He hung up, leaving Ryan wondering if he understood Arthur correctly.
Chapter 25
Time passed in a strange, dream-like state, days bleeding together until James was no longer sure how many days had passed since Luke had left. Sometimes he ate when the hotel staff wouldn’t quit knocking on the door. Sometimes he got sick of lying in bed feeling sorry for himself or watching the few English-speaking channels on the TV, and he went out. He wandered the streets aimlessly, listening to unfamiliar speech all around him, until his nose was running and he was as cold on the outside as he was on the inside. He got lost a few times, but the GPS helped him find his way back to the hotel. The two women in the vestibule kept casting him strange looks and whispering to each other in Russian whenever they saw him. James usually ignored them and went straight to his room, where he took a long, hot shower—he might be a miserable, depressed fuck, but he refused to stink. After the shower, he went to bed. Sometimes he wanked, trying to get rid of the restless, horrible want eating him from the inside. It didn’t work, no matter how hard he fucked himself on his dildo. Afterward, he just felt more pathetic and hollow. So he crawled under the comforter and didn’t get out of bed until the next morning—a very late morning.