Page 7 of Playing the Game
“What side was he shot?”
“The right side. He wasn’t hit near his heart.”
“That’s the only good news you’ve told me.”
“This is bad, Hunter.”
“Yeah, I know. I’m coming home. Will you arrange the jet for me while I try to reach Dorothy?” I push off the wall and hurry to my suite.
“Consider it done. I’ll text you when they’re ready for you.”
“Thanks.” I hang up and dial Dorothy’s number.
She doesn’t answer and my stomach lodges in my throat.
What if she was hurt and Jonah saw it wrong?
I try calling her three more times before I throw my phone against the wall. It shatters into pieces.
“Fucking, great.” I grind on my molars and rake my hands through my hair.
Now I have no way of reaching her or communicating with anyone. I roll my eyes as my frustration mounts.
I thought I was making strides in managing my fears, but the visceral intensity of my reaction to this situation—a coldsweat breaking out, my stomach clenching, and a strangled growl catching in my throat—reveals a different truth.
Clearly, I still have a lot of work to do. I pack and go to the airport, praying the jet will be ready soon while trying to find some way to hold myself together. I’m a mess as my thoughts slam around in my head.
What the fuck happened?
Why were Dorothy and Jamison together?
Why was she covered in blood?
What if he dies?
My mind spins out of control while I wait. I check my watch a dozen times. By my calculations, I’ll get to the hospital eight hours after we take off. It feels like a lifetime away.
Thankfully, I don’t have to wait that long before we’re in the air. I take out my laptop and connect to the internet.
My first order of business is to email Jonah and explain what happened with my phone. The next is to find the news coverage of the shooting.
Just thinking about the attack has my blood running cold. My gut is telling me this wasn’t a random mishap in a park. The problem is, I’m not sure if the bullets were meant for Jamison or Dorothy.
Ava warned me my mother was too calm about us backing out of our agreement to get married and produce an heir. And Dorothy thought someone was following her last week. This incident has my mother’s signature all over it.
But why?
I have no clue.
Why would my mother want to hurt Dorothy or Jamison?
Unless she’s trying to hurt Dorothy to get to me. That’s what makes the most sense, but Jamison was given the betting chip.
It’s unclear if Ava gave it to him because she was supposedto or if she did that to scare me into believing she had Jamison helping her. I make a mental note to speak to her about this.
Is the shooting my fault?
I have to face it. This falls back on me. The weight of knowing that has me leaning forward and rubbing my temples. Getting Jamison caught in the crossfire, fighting for his life has me buried in guilt.
