Page 38 of Jameson’s Salvation

“Hey,” I greeted.

“Is Jameson there?”

I glanced at the clock on the wall and realized I’d lost track of time, something I often did when I was working in my shed. Last time I’d talked to Jameson he’d said he was stopping by his house before he came over, but it was later than I’d thought he’d be here.

“Don’t think so, but I’m in my shed. Let me go look.”

I walked around the side of my house and Jameson was sitting in his truck in my driveway. His head was pressed back against the seat rest and his eyes were closed.

“Um. Yeah, he’s here. You need to talk to him?”

“Yeah.”

I didn’t like the tone of Weston’s voice. Something was wrong. “Everything okay?”

“Just put him on, yeah?” His sharp biting answer was all the confirmation I needed.

Jameson’s eyes opened as if he sensed my approach and he got out of his truck, pinning me with narrowed, accusing eyes. Something was wrong with him, too.

“What’s wrong?” he inquired.

“You tell me.” Jameson’s answer was to clench his jaw. “Here, it’s Weston.”

That earned me another weird look and I handed him my phone.

“Yo,” Jameson said when he took my offering.

The conversation was mostly one-sided. There were a few “whens” and “wheres” and finally a “see you in a minute” then he disconnected and handed me my phone.

“Gotta go,” he told me.

“What’s wrong?”

“Not now, Kennedy. I have to go.”

He started to swing up into his truck and I made a split-second decision and jogged to the passenger side and hopped in.

“Kennedy. I have—”

“So go.”

“Need you to get out, babe.”

“Nope. There’s something wrong. So drive and tell me what’s going on.”

“Kennedy—”

“I’m not getting out, Jameson. So if you have someplace to be you should start driving.”

His eyes did a full body scan and I wasn’t sure what he was looking for, but when he was done, he fired up his truck and backed out. He was silent until we hit the main road.

“This isn’t cool,” he finally spoke.

“What’s not cool, is your friend calling my phone wondering where you are, and then me finding you in your truck looking like something is very wrong.”

“Got a lot of shit on my mind. I was taking a minute.”

“Taking a minute? From me?”