Jameson Miles The Stopover Novels & Stories

Grey was forced to follow behind and looked left and right between the stalls, shops and cafes. "JAMES!" someone suddenly called his name. There were Bryan and Mars waving from behind a sports car that stopped in the middle of the road to James. James stopped and looked at them, getting into a traffic jam. "STAY THERE!" Bryan shouted again, pointing at James. He will find a parking space while the car horn gets louder behind his car. Mars was annoyed that he shouted, pointing at the car behind him. "CAN'T YOU FUCKING STOP HONKING AT ME! DO YOU THINK I'M DEAF?!" shouted Mars in his unchanging barbarity.

She gripped his arm again. "Hang on," James said. Was Molly car sick after such a short drive? James couldn't imagine, but he implicitly understood that he needed to stop somewhere private. About a mile down, James remembered, there was a side road that would eventually become another row of houses. At the moment, however, it was an unpaved cul-de-sac with trees and not much else. James hurried and turned onto the bumpy road. He pulled to the right side. "You OK?" he asked his daughter. Molly stared back at him, biting her lip.

Miles retorted, which was unlike him. No! Jack emphasized way too hard. I told Stella I’d stop calling it that, remember? And you didn’t until Stevie. I swallowed a laugh, but I was glad Miles was finally giving Jack a little bit of hell back. That works too. But if you could help change the sheets in both those rooms, I’d appreciate it. Bodey turned onto the next entrance to the interstate. We’ll be there in an hour, I finished. We’re on it. See you soon, Miles replied.

Saturday, December 13 (One month later) A month—fucking gone. And One-Mile had stepped onto US soil at DFW Airport less than two hours ago with one top-of-mind focus: seeing Brea ASAP. Since he was in desperate times, that called for desperate measures. After yesterday’s shit show, his situation had leapfrogged over merely wretched and landed squarely in last-gasp, holy-fuck land. He needed to regroup—fast. But he’d never imagined he’d be doing it in this swanky suburban mansion.

than he acted. He glanced in the rearview mirror, shaking his head."You three are gonna get us pulled over yelling like that. Save the wrestling for the pool," James said, his voice calm but amused. He was in a faded t-shirt and swim trunks, the kind of guy who planned road trips but still knew how to party. Mom had married their dad five years ago, turning us into this loud, chaotic stepsib squad overnight. We fought constant, but it was the good kind, the type where we'd kill for each other if it came down to it. Summer break meant no school drama, just this week at the family lake house, parents ditching us for their anniversary cruise. Freedom.The drive was three hours from the city, al

He’s shirtless, too, like he just returned from shifting. “Hey.” “I just wanted to let you know I spoke to Miles. He’s in town making a call to the barracks in Veiled Valley. It sounds like he and Tate are being called back to duty, their leave cut short.” “How come?” I glance in the direction of the foyer, trying to catch a glimpse of Posey in the driveway through the ceiling height windows. “I have no idea, but they need to be back by tomorrow morning at dawn, and both would rather have a night to sleep off their perpetual hangovers, so they’re leaving this afternoon, and I’m going with them.”

“If you insist on your flat, we’ll go there. But don’t think this is over, Emma. We’ll talk more about what’s best for James.” I glared at him but said nothing; he drove back toward my flat. I was looking out of the window. Just then James asked from the back seat, “Mummy! Can we stop for lunch? I’m starving!” “Starving?” Ryan scoffed dramatically, quickening his pace to catch up with James. “Didn't you eat breakfast, son?” James giggled. “But that was 3 hours ago! I’m a growing boy.” Ryan smiled at him through the rearview mirror. “Alright, alright. You’re right. A growing boy needs fuel. How about we stop at that diner just up the street? The one with those massive milkshakes?”

“Do you sleep?” Noah rubbed the back of his neck. “On occasion.” A tall man with broad shoulders and a jaw full of whiskers stepped around the truck and noticed her. He lifted his hand and greeted her warmly. “Hey, there. I’m Jameson. You must be Camille. Everyone ‘round here’s been talkin’ about you.” He gripped her hand and shook gently. “I didn’t know what to expect ‘cause some of the Hardings think you hung the moon and some of ‘em kinda don’t think you should be hangin’ around at all.”

Just a little farther. Just a little farther outside their reach. I had just hit the intersection — A black car cut across the road in front of me. The tires shrieked against the pavement. I was forced to stop. My breath hadn't caught up. I staggered back. The car door opened. Someone stepped out. Time stopped. I saw the face. James.

Chapter 121 James just sat hard, his stare out the window as the black car churned up mile after mile on winding country roads. They'd left noisy city far behind them hours ago. All he could see now was rolls of hills and thick forests. It felt like they were driving to the end of the world. They were finally slowing down, pulling up to some remote cabin perched within a thicket of pine trees. James stretched out, his stiff muscles after an eternity of a ride.