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She made a cute scrunchy face. “But it’s your first day off, why would there be work stuff?”
She had a point.
“Uh … one of my colleagues is complaining about a new policy, that’s all.” Fuck, he hated lying. But he couldn’t very well tell Laura what really had him distracted.
His ex-girlfriend who he’d introduced as afriendand the fact that he was worried sick about where she might be right now and what she might be doing with the president and vice president of The Douche Brigade.
Paul entered the living room and handed Jordan a bottle of beer while passing Laura a glass of ice water. Laura was training for a half-marathon and planned to go running tomorrow so she wasn’t drinking. “What shall we watch? The new Dwyane Johnson movie? The new Timothée Chalamet movie?”
Laura shrugged and grabbed a blanket from the corner of the cream leather couch, pulling it over her legs. “I’m game for anything, just as long as it’s not gory.” She shuddered. “You know I can’t handle that stuff.”
Jordan was back staring at his phone.
Laura nudged him. “Any preferences?”
“Huh?” Shit, he was being a really crappy boyfriend and an even crappier guest. “Sorry, what did you ask?”
“Movie preferences?” Paul repeated.
Jordan shook his head. “No preference. I’m easy. Whatever you guys decide on is fine by me.”
Laura and Paul both shrugged, then Paul started flipping through Netflix.
“I just have to make a quick call,” Jordan said, getting up abruptly from the couch and heading to the sliding glass doors that led to the penthouse sundeck. “Start the movie without me.” He cast an apologetic look toward Laura, then pulled open the sliding door and stepped out into the chilly September night.
He shouldn’t be doing this, he really fucking shouldn’t, but dammit all to hell, if something happened to Rayma and hedidn’tcall he’d never fucking forgive himself. But if nothing happened and she just bitched him out for being a stalking weirdo then at least he’d go to bed knowing she was okay. He’d rather she be safe and hate him than her get hurt and he didn’t do anything to stop it.
His thumb hesitated over her number for just a second, then he hitcalland put his phone to his ear. It started to ring.
He went back and forth at least a dozen times about whether or not he should just hang up, forget he even saw Rayma and go back into the apartment to be with Laura—his girlfriend.
But when Rayma’s hushed voice broke through the ringing, he knew he’d done the right thing. “Jordan?”
“Rayma, where are you?” Dread began an icy trek down his spine. Something wasn’t right.
“Peyton and I met these guys at the bar and they said they had their names on a list at Diamond Back but then they wanted to detour to their office to get something to ‘make the party more fun’ and now they won’t let us leave.”
Fuck.
“Where are you?”
“Ummm… a real estate office, I think. On Broad Street. I’m in the bathroom, but Peyton’s out there with them and I’m worried about her.” Her voice was just a whisper, and the sink was running, probably to muffle her voice even more.
Smart.
“Stay put in the bathroom, Rayma, I’m coming to get you.”
“No, Jordan. We can get ourselves out of here. I’m not your concern anymore.”
“The fuck you’re not,” he growled, pacing the length of Paul’s deck. “Stay put, or so help me God, Rayma—”
“Shit. I gotta go.” Then the line went dead.
FUCK!
He nearly tossed his phone off the balcony.
He threw open the sliding glass door, drawing the attention of Laura and Paul. “I need to go.”
