I sip my whiskey, taking comfort in the dull burn in my tongue and throat. At this point, I’ll take anything that gets my mind off my woman, my baby, our future.
When my phone rings, I’m tempted to ignore it. I only pick up because it’s Lev. “Yeah?”
“Where the fuck are you?” he demands. “Dimitri told me you got on a jet?”
“I did.”
“I thought you were going to go see her friend?”
“I did.”
“What happened from there?”
“I started to smell a rat.”
“What is that supposed to mean?”
“It means that shit is going down. I need to get to Jessa right now.”
“What did the friend say?”
“Not a ton. But I’m not surprised. He doesn’t trust me.”
“So he’s still alive?” he asks dubiously.
“Of course he’s still alive. I wasn’t planning on killing him.”
Though based on some of the text messages I read off his phone, I could amend that decision.
“I assume he told you where Jessa is?” asks Lev.
I snort. “No, he’s the loyal type.”
“I’m confused why he's still alive then."
“I let him live, but I took his phone.”
“You and Jessa deserve each other. Two kleptomaniacs. Remind me to lock my phone up when you’re around.”
I smile. “I texted her earlier with Chris’s number. She gave away her location.”
“Rookie mistake.”
“She’s not used to covering her tracks.”
“So where is she?”
“England.”
There’s a pregnant pause. “Well, that explains the jet.”
“I should be landing soon.”
“And you know where to go from there?"
“Of course. She told me everything.”
“You mean she told Chris everything," he corrects.