The Takeover (The Miles High Club 2)

“Juste une minute.” (Translation: Just a minute.) He passes the phone to someone.

“Tris?”

I frown and screw up my face in confusion . . . what? “Harry?”

“Come and get us.”

My eyes nearly bulge from their sockets. “I’ll be right down.” I run to the door and hit the elevator button.

They’re here.

I watch the dial over the doors, and I tap my foot. Come on . . . come on.

The doors open, and I rush out and look around to see Harry and Patrick sitting on the lounge waiting for me. They look up and see me, and both come running at me at a million miles per minute. They nearly bowl me over as they grab a leg each to hug.

I put my arms around them and hold them tight. “Where’s Mom?” I whisper into their hair.

“We ran away.”

My mouth falls open in horror. “Your mother doesn’t know you’re here?” I gasp.

They both shake their heads. “Nope.”

“Oh my God.” I take out my phone. “She’s going to be fucking frantic.” I call Claire.

“Tristan,” she cries in a panic. “They’ve run away.”

“They just turned up here,” I stammer.

“What?” she gasps.

“Patrick and Harrison just turned up at my hotel in Paris.”

“What the hell?” she gasps. “Really?”

“Yes.”

“They’re okay, they’re okay,” I hear her tell someone.

“Where are you?” I ask.

“In the police station. Oh my God, Tristan,” she cries in relief. “Oh my God. It’s okay, Fletcher. They’re safe,” she says.

I flick the peak of Harry’s cap. “You’re in so much trouble,” I mouth.

“I don’t care,” he mouths back with attitude.

“I’m on my way,” she stammers. “Fletcher and I will catch the first flight out.”

“Okay.”

“Bye, Tris.” She hangs up.

I look down at the two boys as they stare up at me. “What are you two thinking?” I snap. “Your mother has been frantic,” I whisper as I gesture to the elevator. “You two are in so much trouble I can’t even believe it,” I whisper angrily.

They both smile up at me, and my heart constricts. I bend and take them both in my arms. “You little shits,” I murmur into their hair.

“We came to get you,” Patrick whispers into my shoulder. “We want you as our dad. We don’t care what Mom says. It’s up to us, anyway.”