Chapter 25 Jamie
JAMIE
Men don’t realize their superpower is safety.
Keep her safe. Her heart. Her body. Her soul.
Do those three things, and I’ll know I raised good men.
—Advice from Aiden Murphy to Jameson and Finn
“You’re not listening to me, Liv.” I close the folder and pass it back to my agent. “I don’t give a shit about the endorsement deal if it requires me to be fifty feet tall in a banana hammock in the middle of Times Square. I don’t need the money that bad.”
Olivia St. James has been my agent for the past three years, after my previous agent retired and Liv took over most of his roster of clients. She’s also one of my closest friend’s little sisters, so it’s fun to rile her up. Especially because this woman doesn’t rile easily.
“Everyone needs the money, Jamie, even you. There’s no such thing as too much money.
” She yanks the folder out of my hand and tosses it to her desk as she pulls herself up to sit on top of it.
You can take the St. James out of the gym, but you can never fully take the MMA gym she grew up in out of the St. James.
Even if this one detests it. Olivia draws a line at sweating. “What if we say no billboards?”
My phone vibrates in my pocket, and I silence it.
“What if we say no to anything that requires me to be without pants?” I counter. “Shirtless, fine. But I don’t want my daughter looking back at her daddy’s campaigns one day, and her friends commenting on how big my dick looks.”
Liv’s eyebrows shoot up, practically touching her hairline.
“First, there is so much to unpack with that seriously fucked up sentence, Murphy.” Her eyes scan over to where Kyrie sleeps in her car seat as she shakes her head.
“Starting with how I seriously hope her friends are not looking at your dick and ending with what I’ve seen of you in the locker room. It’s not that big.”
“Olivia . . .” I groan, and she rolls her eyes.
“Fine. Whatever. It’s big—”
“Sweet Jesus, stop before your brother finds out we’re talking about my dick and tries to kick my fucking ass.” I scrub a hand down my face. “The answer is no. Find a different deal.”
My phone vibrates again as the phone on Liv’s desk rings, and I pull mine out. “Can you give me a minute?” I don’t wait for her response before I answer the call, “Hey, Dad. Is everything okay?”
“Jamie . . . Are you with Liv?” Dad asks.
“Yeah, she’s right here. Why?” Liv’s phone rings again, and I watch as she steps away and takes the call.
“I need you to get her to drive you home. Now, son.” Dad’s voice is calm. Too calm. Forced calm.
“What the hell is going on, Dad? Why does Liv need to drive me?” Liv’s eyes fly to mine from where she’s whispering on the other side of her desk to whoever called her.
“It’s Ashton . . . Come home now, Jamie.”
Liv ends her call and grabs her purse from her desk as my world spins.
“Dad—”
“Don’t say anything to anyone, Jameson. Just come home. Now.”
“Dad—”
“Jamie.” Liv takes my hand and pulls me to my feet, then takes my phone from my hand.
“Hey, Aiden, I’ve got him, and we’ll be there in ten minutes.
Yes. I understand. Not a word. Okay. On our way.
” She hands me my phone, then lifts Kyrie’s carrier and hooks it on my arm and pushes me out of her office.
“Olivia . . . What the hell is happening?”
She walks us to my car as my mind races with every possibility. I was just with Ashton. Everything was fine. “Give me your keys.”
“You’re not driving my car, Liv. I don’t know—”
“Keys. Now, Jameson.” She stomps her foot, and I swear to God if someone doesn’t tell me what the hell is going on, I’m going to lose my shit.
I hand her the damn keys and snap Kyrie’s car seat in place, then get in and look at Liv. “Are you going to tell me now?”
“Let’s just get you home first.” Her voice is too soft, and my nerves are too frayed.
“Liv.” I soften my voice, masking the anger raging in place of the fear. “What happened?”
Liv pulls to a stop at a red light and turns to me, her terror staring back at me, not at all the in-control woman she likes everyone to see. “Ashton’s been taken.”
“Walk me through it again,” I demand, and everyone in the room starts speaking at once. Lexie, Dillan, and Kaleigh all recounting Jonah’s story.
Jonah, who’s in the other room, is being checked out by Finn. His mother’s been called, but she has a clearance level job that requires her to check her phone before she goes into the government building, and no one has been able to reach her yet.
Mom sits on the couch next to me, holding Kyrie as the chaos erupts.
“Stop,” Dad snaps, halting everyone, then sits on the coffee table, his elbows on his knees and his eyes locked on mine.
I hold my phone between us as I wait for a call.
Please God, let this phone ring. “Ashton and Jonah walked into the parking lot to put something in her car. Two men jumped them. They told Jonah to tell you that you weren’t to call the police.
That if you did, they will kill Ashton. And to wait for a call. That’s all we know, son.”
“You can call the police, Jamie,” Mom adds but doesn’t sound sure.
“They’ll kill her if you do,” Finn moves around Mom and Dad, giving voice to my fear.
I see red like never before.
She’s been taken.
Someone hurt her.
Someone is hurting her.
“Do they want a ransom?” I ask, my voice vibrating with anger.
“We don’t know,” Dad says calmly. Too calmly when I’m feeling like this. “But we need to decide whether we’re going to call the police.”
“No,” I answer immediately. No hesitation.
“No,” Jonah yells and runs to me, followed by Finn. “They’ll kill her, Jamie. He said no cops. We can’t call the cops.”
“They’re not going to kill her.” I open my arms and wrap them around Jonah. “They can’t,” I tell him because she’s going to be fine. She has to be. There is no me in this world without her in it too.
We lost Evan, and we survived. I won’t survive if she doesn’t.
“Jameson.” The room quiets as my grandfather walks in, flanked by two Secret Service agents. Still the biggest presence in any room, anywhere. “We don’t call the police. I’ve negotiated with far worse men than this. My team can and will handle this. They will get your fiancée and my grandson back.”
“How did you—” I start to ask, but Mom rests her hand on my arm and squeezes.
“I called him.”
“Jameson.” Grandfather stops in front of me, the kind of power most men will never know rolling off him in waves.
“I need you to trust me.” He rests a hand on my shoulder, and I’m no longer looking at my grandfather.
I’m looking at the man who was once the most powerful man in the world. “We will bring them home to you.”
He turns to one of the agents and nods, and the agent walks out of the room.
“Then what do we do? I can’t sit here and do nothing.” I don’t know how to do this. I don’t know how to be calm when they could be hurting her. She’s got to be terrified. I told her I’d protect her . . .
“We wait.”
Ashton
“Shouldn’t she be awake by now?”
Oh God. I hold my breath and stay as still as possible, resisting the urge to run my hand over the throb in my neck where I’m guessing a needle went in. I don’t want them to know I’m not still asleep.
Right now, they’re leaving me alone.
I have no idea what they’ll do once they know I’m awake.
“How the fuck should I know? Did you dose her right?” I think that voice is the man who had Jonah.
Oh God, Jonah.
Is he here?
Wait . . . No. They told Jonah to tell Jamie.
They left Jonah behind.
“I used the same shit Petey Googs said he used.” That voice . . . That voice belongs to the man who had me. That voice is going to haunt my nightmares.
“You fucking dumbass. Googs used that shit on a two-hundred-and-fifty-pound guy. She’s not even half that. Christ. You better hope you didn’t kill her. The boss will fucking gut you.”
“What the fuck ever. He’ll still get his money. Her man is a pro baller.”
Money . . . They did this for money?
“Christ, you’re dumber than you look. They don’t give no shits he’s a King. His family’s money makes that look like chump change. His granddaddy was Harrison Cabot.”
“Who the fuck is Harrison Cabot?”
Oh. My. God. His grandfather.
“The former president, you dumb fuck. Do you know how much this bitch is worth? Her baby daddy is a giant fucking jackpot. Looks like the ballerina back there has more expensive taste in baby daddies than her whore mom did. I wonder what ballerina pussy tastes like. I ain’t never been with a ballerina. ”
I fight not to vomit as icy cold fear wraps it’s spindly claws around me and squeezes.
“I’ve been with a dancer, and her shit was stretched out. Kinda smelled funky too.”
“You weren’t with a ballerina. You were with a stripper who gave sloppy blow jobs and hepatitis away with her lap dances.”
A tear leaks from my eye, and I pray they aren’t looking at me to see it.
I haven’t dared open them yet, too scared of what I’ll see when I do.
I haven’t felt any flutters in my belly since I came to, but it’s early, and I’d only just started to notice them this morning.
I’m sure that’s normal . . . It has to be normal.
Everything is fine.
The baby is fine.
I’m going to be fine.
Jamie is going to save us.
He’s going to get us out of here.
I tell myself this over and over, like a mantra in my head I cling to.
A promise I’m making to myself.
A door creaks, and heavy footsteps stomp against concrete, shutting the two monsters up.
“Get her up,” a new voice announces as the footsteps stop.
Another tear falls without my permission as different steps stomp my way. Lighter than the last.
“She’s awake, boss.” It’s the one who took me.
Oh God.
No.
Before I open my eyes, pain radiates down my leg from my knee, and I cry out in agony. “That’s for my knee, bitch. Now get up.”