Page 41 of Losing Hope

Gage slammedthe door behind him, dropping his bags to the floor, and walked directly to the fridge and grabbed a beer. Twisting the top off gruffly, he brought the bottle to his lips and emptied it in four long pulls. He turned, tossed the bottle in the trash, grabbed another out of the fridge, and repeated the same process. This time, though, when the second bottle was empty, he gripped it tightly before hurling it across the room, shattering it into a hundred pieces as it slammed into thewall.

“Fuck!” He reached into the fridge and grabbed a third beer. “Fuck. Fuck. Fuuuuuck!”

This time, he took a single pull and walked out of the kitchen, into his living room, and plopped down on his couch. It was only eleven thirty in the morning, but the last twenty-four hours had been a living hell. After walking away from Hope in the hanger, he made his way to the main airport terminal and tried to get a commercial flight back to thecity.

Every flight, from all three airlines, was booked going out that day, so he was listed as standby. When a flight still hadn’t opened up by six that evening, he’d opted to take a nine-pm flight to New Jersey instead. Of course, given his track record for the day, the plane had mechanical difficulties and had to divert to Boston and land there.

All of Boston’s flights to Jersey and New York for the rest of the night were booked, so he ended up sleeping on the floor in the terminal until this morning, when he finally got on a damn flight. He shook his head and took another long pull from his beer when he heard his phone ding. He reached into his pocket and pulled it out, his heart sinking when he saw the notification for a text, the fifth one that day, from Hope ~Angel~ Yorke.

He was afraid to read anything she had sent, afraid he would push all the reasons he shouldn’t call her aside and just do it. Because, Jesus, he fucking missed hearing her voice. He missed feeling her in his arms. He couldn’t believe his goddamn luck. Of all the women he could have met and fallen for, it had to be Robert Yorke’s daughter. He lifted the bottle and banged it against his forehead in frustration before taking another drink.

Gage woke up a couple hours later to his phone ringing, his empty beer bottle clattering onto the floor as he rose from the couch to answer it. Hope ~Angel~ Yorke appeared on the screen, turning his gut ice cold. Instead of answering, he stood there holding the phone and waited to see if she would leave a message. After what seemed an eternity, his phone dinged and ‘you have a voicemail waiting’ appeared on the screen.

Unable to stand the distance from her any longer, he swiped right to listen to the message. His heart beat furiously as soon as her voice came over the speaker. “Um, Gage? Hi. It’s Hope, the girl you spent the most amazing weekend of my life with. I’m not sure what happened or what’s happening or why you won’t talk to me. Is it weird that I miss you somuch?”

There was a long pause, and he thought the message was over, but it suddenly continued as she let out a long, stuttered sigh and began speaking again, this time with obvious tears in her voice. “I don’t know what I’m supposed to do now. Will you please talk to me? Or text me? Please. Did I tell you that I missyou?”

This time, the message was over. He stared at the phone for only a moment before he hit the play button again. As hard as it was to listen to the sadness and confusion pouring from her, he could not stop himself from wanting to hear her voice again. After the fourth playback, he jammed the phone in his pocket, grabbed his keys and helmet off the counter, and stormed out his frontdoor.

Flying down the stairs and out the entrance, he turned right and headed into the side alley where he kept his bike parked. He pulled his helmet on as he threw a leg over the leather seat and jammed the key into the ignition. He pressed the start switch and pulled the clutch into gear, revving out and into traffic.

After an hour of driving around aimlessly, he pulled into the parking lot across from the warehouse his friend had converted into a gym. After securing his bike and paying the attendant, he strode across the street to the entrance and made his way inside. He was greeted by the spunky little redhead that often manned the reception desk. His eyes scanned over the back wall, taking in the now familiar name, Baker-Landon-Rose Memorial Gym, and silently said the same small prayer he always did when he came here, for those who had sacrificed their lives.

“Heya, Handsome.” The redhead smiled widely. “What can I help you with today? You want tobox?”

He shook his head. “Actually, I was looking for Ben. Is he around?”

She nodded while picking up the phone. “Sure is. He’s out back with his brother. Let me see if he’s available.”

“Thanks.” His gaze roamed around the gym, watching various workouts and boxing matches in progress as she spoke on the phone.

She hung up and looked his way. “He said he’s coming up. His brother is on his way out, so timing is perfect.”

“Great, thanks, Stacy.” He gave her a small nod and moved over to the seating area towait.

Not more than two minutes later, he saw Ben’s impressive form, and who he assumed must be his brother, walking his way. Ben’s face broke into a wide smile when his eyes fell on Gage, and his pace picked up. When he was close enough, he extended his hand, grabbing his in a firm grip, followed by one of those manly sidehugs.

“Hey, man! What brings you to my neck of the woods? Haven’t seen you in ages.” Ben’s face was still graced with a welcoming smile, but a touch of concern had his brows raised.

“Just wanted to talk to you about a couple things. Didn’t know if you’d be around and was out on the bike so figured I’d stop by.” He turned to Ben’s brother and extended his hand in greeting. “Gage Flynn. Served overseas with your brother.”

He was met with a firm handshake. “Drew Sapphire. Always a pleasure to meet one of Ben’s friends.”

“Hey! This might actually be cosmic intervention,” Ben interjected and pointed at Gage while looking at Drew. “Gage is a photographer. Maybe he could help you out Saturday?”

Gage tilted his head and looked at Drew. “What’s happening on Saturday?”

“We had a new hotel open in the financial district, down on Broadway, and the celebration gala is this Saturday. Our regular event photographer had a family emergency and just cancelled less than thirty minutes ago. Interested?”

“Just like that? You don’t even want to see my portfolio?” Gage raised his brows in surprise.

“You’re a friend of Ben’s. If he says you’ve got the chops for the job, I trust him.” Drew gave his brother a small punch to the shoulder. “It’s a pretty easy gig. We really just need someone to capture the usual moments at one of these events so we can throw some pictures in our next publication.”

Gage shrugged. “What time you needme?”

“Event starts at seven. Really only need you for the first couple hours. After that, you can hang out, have some drinks, enjoy the hotel. I can set you up with a suite for the night if youwant.”

“Sounds easy enough, and I’m free Saturday.” His chest ached briefly as a reminder of the absence it felt withoutHope.

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