The Stopover (The Miles High Club 1)

“He’s not answering my calls, and witnesses said he ran off across the park.”

“What the fuck?”

“What do I do?”

“I’ll try calling him and call you back.”

“Okay.” I hang up and begin to pace . . . where are you?

Moments later Tristan calls back. “He’s not answering. I’ll come over.”

“Thank you.”

An hour later Tristan and I walk through Bryant Park. We haven’t talked other than about finding Jameson. He’s angry with me about Jake and obviously doesn’t want to discuss it.

I’m angry with me.

It’s one o’clock in the morning, and now I’m getting frantic. My eyes roam over the park in the darkness. “Where could he be?” I whisper.

“I don’t know. Try calling him again,” he says.

I dial his number and keep walking through the darkened park when we hear something.

Tristan’s eyes widen, and he holds up his hand. “Shh, listen.”

From the darkness, we can hear a faint ringtone. It goes silent, and I redial his number.

We both look around frantically, and then we see the white glow as the screen lights up. “Here.” I run over to the side and see a phone lying in the grass. My eyes widen in horror as Tristan picks it up. He swipes it on and puts in the code, and the screen lights up.

His eyes rise to meet mine. “It’s Jameson’s phone.”

We both look up across the darkened park as a sense of fear sweeps through me. “What the hell has happened to him?” I whisper.

It’s four o’clock in the morning, and Tristan and I are frantic. We’ve walked for hours. Alan, Elliot, and Christopher are all out looking for Jameson.

“He’s probably just hiding out from the police somewhere. He’ll be fine,” Tristan tries to comfort me. I’m in full-blown tears now; there’s no hiding my distress.

“This is all my fault,” I whisper as we walk. “If I didn’t go to that setup, none of this would have happened.”

“What do you mean, setup?”

“Jake told me that he had information on a story that Ferrara was publishing the next day about Jameson and that he would tell me out of work. I didn’t want to worry Jameson, so I lied and went to meet him. He just wanted to get me alone, and he kissed me. I slapped him across the face and left, and then the next day . . .” I shrug. “You saw the pictures.”

He frowns. “So you weren’t seeing Jake?”

“No,” I snap. “I’m in love with fucking Jameson, you idiot.” I sob. “And he won’t let me explain.”

“Fucking hell, what a mess.” His phone rings, and he quickly answers. “Hello.”

He listens. “Yes.” He listens some more. “Is he all right?” He gasps. He puts his hand over his chest. “Thank God.”

“What?” I mouth.

“Thank you. I’m on my way.” He hangs up.

“What?” I whisper.

“Jameson is in the hospital.”