Page 67 of Beyond Question

Jesus. I run my hand over the back of my neck. I think I probablywouldhave been into this. The old me, anyway.

New mewants silver hair and a silver tongue, mesmerizing blue eyes, full, kissable lips—some of the best I’ve ever tasted, come to think of it—and a sassy mouth that makes me hard just thinking about it.

New me also has two days left on this trip and can’t wait to get home to his girl.

Speaking of which, why hasn’t she responded to my texts?

We were going back and forth earlier, and I could almost imagine we were truly eating lunch together, then Paige dropped off the face of the earth and I haven’t heard from her since.

That was hours ago.

Radio silence all afternoon.

My phone rings and I nearly shout mythank you!to the heavens. Saved by the bell.

It’s nearing seven o’clock in California, so it’s almost ten in New York, which makes my heart nearly jump from my chest when I see that the incoming call is from Rylan and not a good night call from Paige. I swipe for the cellphone and nearly knock it off the bar in my haste to answer it.

“Ry? What’s wrong? Is it the baby?”

“You have ababy?” the girl beside me asks incredulously. Like she fucking cares. I told her I had a girlfriend no less than three times and she still didn’t kick rocks.

“No,” Rylan whispers, “the baby is fine.”

I blow out a sigh of relief. It’s public knowledge that I don’t particularly like babies, but I already have something akin to asoft spot for my best friend’s little devil spawn. “What’s going on? Why are you whispering?”

“You need to come home.”

“What? Why?” I sit up straighter, then down the rest of my cocktail and drop a few bills on the bar. I motion to the bartender as I stand to leave and when he looks at me, I jerk my thumb toward the chick beside me and say, “There’s no way she’s twenty-one, man.”

She scoffs but I ignore her. It’s not like I gave her any reason to think I was interested. She rambled on about her auditions and some nonsense about how hard it is to get a job in this city, and I stared at my phone.

Poor girl can’t read a room; maybe she can’t read lines all that well either.

Draping my suit jacket over my arm, I stride toward the exit. “Is something wrong with Cabot? You two have a fight?”

“No, it’s—”

The music starts up as I pass the band and I growl in frustration. It’s too damn loud and thinking that makes me feel too damn old, but for fuck’s sake, I can’t hear my call. Doesn’t help that Rylan is still whispering.

“Hold on, kiddo, I can’t hear you. Let me get outside.” When I reach the lobby of the hotel, I say, “Okay, now, what’s going on?”

“Something is wrong with Paige.”

I freeze as those words sink in, then shake my head to clear the stupor. “What? What is it?”

“I don’t really know. She’s here now, at our place.” She pauses, then adds, “In the city.”

“Penthouse, got it.” I slip my room key from my back pocket and stride toward the elevator. “Is she sick?”

“No, she’s… someone is after her, Travis.”

“Fuck.” I punch the elevator call button and pace as I wait for the damn thing to show up.

“She’s really afraid. I’ve never seen her like this.” Rylan pauses and my heart breaks as those words sink in. Paige has always been running, hasn’t she? Not just from me; she’s just been running. And now, whoever or whatever she’s running from, has found her.

“Is it someone from her past?”

“Yes. A man.”

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