Jake Abbot
Wyatt and I were walking out of the dressing room when his phone rang.
“Syd, what’s up?” He answered. She had video called him. I could see a sleeping Winter beside her.
“Is she okay?” I asked, moving into the frame.
“She’s sleeping. We are on the plane, but I had to call you to let you know she had spoken to Tristan. Wyatt, it isn’t good, and I’m worried.”
“What happened?” I demanded, ignoring Wyatt, who was grumbling and cursing.
“Before the plane took off she answered his call. I only heard bits and pieces, but I think she’s done with him. And with her concussion, I need him to stay away until the bleeding has stopped. I don’t need my best friend dying over this asshole.” She exclaimed.
“f**k, I hate that guy,” Wyatt yelled.
“When will the plane land?” I asked.
