“And?”
“And it’s not me.” Gregory stretched his hand over the table between them. “Let me see your phone. I need to talk to Verity.”
28
Landon
It was insane,Landon thought, to have a hospital in the middle of downtown Manhattan. Even more ridiculous that said hospital looked like a fucking art museum with its glass ceiling lobby. The sun was unforgivingly bright, and Landon was quickly reminded of how awful New York summers had truly been. All the goddamn concrete. Even across from Central Park, it was hot in the city.
Landon rode the elevator up to the ICU and shuffled down the hallway until he reached Jack’s room, tapping his knuckles on the door before pushing it open. Jack was awake, propped up in his bed with the TV on and a container of orange jello in hand.
“They don’t even give you the red flavor?” Landon asked, his voice drowning in relief.
“Red isn’t a flavor.” Jack shrugged and shoved a spoonful of neon orange gelatin into his mouth.
“You’re awake.” Landon dropped into an empty chair and made a mental inventory of Jack’s body, including the uncomfortable looking tube protruding from his abdomen.
Landon had managed to catch an afternoon flight from LAX, landing in New York far after the end of visiting hours so he’d checked into a hotel and tried to sleep until he’d be allowed in to visit.
His phone, Landon had noted more than once, had been noticeably silent since he’d landed, with the exception of two texts that Gregory had sent. One, another apology; the other simply readI love you.
That had annoyed Landon, and he’d silenced his ringer after messaging Verity with his hotel information and Jack’s room number. He snapped a picture of Jack and his jello and sent it to Verity.
“You gave us quite a fucking fright, dude,” Landon said, rubbing his hands over his face. He was still so tired, physically from the flight and mentally from Gregory.
“I didn’t mean to. You didn’t need to come.” Jack used his spoon to chop his jello into pieces.
“Where’s Joseph?”
“Kentucky.”
“With Bowie?”
Jack nodded and shoved some of the chopped jello into his mouth. He grimaced while he chewed, forcing a swallow.
“At least it’s not green,” he said with a smirk.
The only sound in the room was Jack’s plastic spoon banging around the mostly empty container. Landon watched him eat the jello as slowly as possible, no doubt to delay any actual conversation.
“Jack,” Landon finally said, breaking the silence.
Jack held up his hand and shook his head then set the empty container and spoon onto the beige bedside table.
“I thought I’d just eaten something off. I didn’t know it was anything serious.”
“You could have died. The doctor didn’t sound positive when he called Verity yesterday, dude.”
“I’m sorry,” Jack whispered. “I didn’t mean to scare anyone, but see? I’m fine. All cleaned out and just a little sore.”
“How long are they keeping you here for?”
“Four days, they said.”
“I’ve always wanted to spend a weekend in July in the hospital in New York. You’ve made all my dreams come true,” Landon told Jack with a dramatic roll of his eyes.
“You don’t need to stay. I’m fine.”
“Yeah, you’re fine here for four days, then what are you going to do?” Landon asked.
