jasper
Day 6
“Let’s just call Tyler. He’ll track her, and we’ll know where she is within five minutes.”
I knew it made sense, and that it was probably our best shot, but the thought of admitting to someone other than Charlotte and Parker that Hannah had walked out on me, made me feel sick.
I rubbed the back of my neck awkwardly. “I’d rather not…”
“Don’t be proud, Jasper.”
I grabbed the pad of paper I’d made some notes on from the bench.
Wallow in self-pity for days.
Check.
Call Hannah repeatedly.
Check.
Airport.
Airport…
“I’m going to the airport.” I grabbed my keys and headed out the door.
I’d called the airport already and there was no record of her ever getting on a flight. It would have been helpful to have Tyler hack into their system and check their security footage, but that would have to wait – I still had my pride… for now anyway.
“Do you want me to come?” Lotte called after me.
Please god, no.
I needed some space right now. Charlotte was a sweetheart and I knew she meant well, she was just scared to leave me on my own… but I could figure this thing out; I just needed some peace and quiet.
“I’m good, Lotte, I’ll call you…” I yelled as I made my escape.
* * *
“Do you remember her?” I held up a photo of Hannah I’d taken about a week ago.
Just looking at it made my heart speed up in my chest.
She looked so damn beautiful. She was lying in bed wearing her favourite ‘Exit Strategy’ t-shirt, the one with all the holes around the bottom.
I’d given her numerous others, but for some reason, that one was her favourite.
A lump formed in my throat as I relived the time I spent searching for that stupid shirt.
I’d wanted to find it so badly, in the bathroom, under the pillow, in the wash… I just needed it to be somewhere, so I could believe she was coming back soon… but like I’d known all along, it was gone, just like she was.
The middle-aged flight attendant I was speaking to shook her head. “I don’t think so, I’m sorry I really have to go.”
I thanked her and looked around for someone else to ask.
There was a twenty-something-year-old dark-haired girl working at the ticket desk, and while I knew I was running a risk of being recognised, I figured that she was probably my best bet right now.
I waited my turn and when she waved me forward I plastered on my fan smile and did my best to be charming.
“Hello there, sir, how can I help you today?”
I pulled up the photo once again. “I was wondering if you’d seen this woman, she was here about six days ago.”
She pulled her eyes from me to glance at the image I was showing her.
Barely.
“I don’t think so.” She shook her head and batted her lashes at me. “But you know, I see a lot of people every day.”
“Were you working this desk that day?”
She bit down on her lip and counted back on her fingers. “You know what, I was.” She pushed her chest forward and pouted her lips.
Subtle.
I held my phone out for her again. “Are you sure you didn’t see her?”
She didn’t even look at it this time. “Hey, do I know you?” She tipped her head to the side and twirled a strand of hair around her finger in what I assumed was an attempt to flirt with me.
I’d tried all kinds of tactics when it came to fans – young women fans in particular. I’d denied who I was – a stupid option really as my tattoos made it pretty obvious I was lying… especially now that some bored individual had set up an instagram page dedicated purely to each of the marks I wore on my skin.
So that tactic is a fail…
I’d tried bolting the minute I knew I’d been recognised, I’d tried posing for photos and signing all of the shit that got shoved under my nose, hell, I’d even tried being a real angry prick.
Nothing seemed to work quite as effectively as owning up whilst making it abundantly clear that I didn’t want to be bothered.
Don’t get me wrong, I was happy to give time to the fans… just not all of my time.
“That depends,” I drawled. “Are you familiar with music from Exit Strategy?”
Her mouth dropped open a little, but to her credit she kept her cool for the most part.
“Jasper Jones,” she cooed. “I thought I recognised you.”
She was eye-fucking the shit out of me – it was awkward. I didn’t know where to look.
“Congratulations, now could I get you to look at this once more?” I shoved the phone at her again, trying my best to be abrupt.
This time she managed to drag her eyes away from me and actually focus on the picture for more than half a second.
“Actually, I think I did see her… yeah… maybe… is she your sister?”
Seriously, lady?
I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. “My wife,” I grumbled. “You remember where she went?”
She glanced deliberately at my left hand and ignored my question. “No ring?”
My normally endless patience was wearing thin with this chick. There was no way in hell I was picking up anything she was putting down, but she didn’t seem to be getting the memo.
“No ring,” I confirmed. She might have been doing my head in, but she had a point… I was going to be getting a damn ring the minute I found Han.
She opened her mouth to speak, her tongue loaded with some stupid fucking pick-up line, no doubt.
“Don’t,” I warned her. “When a man tells you he’s married, that means he’s not interested. You understand?”
She nodded quickly, her face a mask of embarrassment like a scolded child might look when they’ve been told off.
“Now can you help me, or should I just go?”
I felt kinda bad being a prick to her like this – I normally had a lot more tolerance, but Hannah would have hated this girl, and I hadn’t exactly been sleeping well, so I couldn’t find it within me to care enough to say something nice now.
Her face blushed deep crimson, but she didn’t answer me.
“Do you remember what flight she got on? Where she went?”
She shook her head. “I’m sorry, but I have no idea… I’m pretty sure that she bought a ticket. But at least you know she didn’t leave the country… not from here anyway.” She shrugged.
“How do you know that?” I replied quickly, suddenly interested in the words coming out of her mouth.
“This is the domestic desk… you wanna leave the country then you’ve come to the wrong place.”
Passport… I need to check for her passport…
“Thank you.” I turned to leave.
“I’m really sorry, I didn’t mean to insult you, or your wife.” She seemed somewhat sincere with her comment, so I flashed her a small smile.
“It’s fine. Thank you for your help.”
“At least you know she didn’t leave the country…”
But where the fuck did she go…?
* * *
Day 12
I knew she was getting my messages.
Her inbox would have been full by now if it wasn’t being emptied, and if she had indeed ditched her phone, the battery would have been well and truly flat.
I also knew she hadn’t left the country. Thanks to the conversation I’d had at the airport, I’d dug around and found her passport in the bottom of a shoe box in the wardrobe.
Maybe she never planned on leaving the country, maybe she knew she was coming back… maybe it was something else entirely…
Whatever it was, it was a relief.
It didn’t help me contact her though.
She never answered her phone, her emails and messages never showed up as being read, but I just had a feeling. So I kept sending them. I called her every night and told her that I loved her – that I would be there soon.
I’ll find a way.
When I’d finally given in and let Charlotte call Tyler, he’d been convinced that she’d gotten rid of her phone, or that she’d brought herself a burner cell and had the calls transferred so she couldn’t be traced back to her current position.
He insisted that her last known location was the airport less than an hour from here; the airport I’d already visited, where she had apparently boarded a flight to nowhere.
I was beginning to think she’d gone there just to confuse me, and hadn’t actually got on a plane at all like the girl at the desk thought she had.
No one else in that place could confirm if they’d seen her or not.
That only made me more convinced that she hadn’t been there for long – if you saw a woman that looked like Hannah, you’d remember it. She lit up every room she entered.
There was also something off about Tyler. I didn’t trust the guy. Not only did he not seem to like me very much, but I could have sworn he knew something he wasn’t telling us. I didn’t want to suggest that particular idea to Lotte – he was her big brother and she trusted him one hundred percent.
But that didn’t mean I had to.
It didn’t matter anyway. I’d figure this thing out with or without him. Hannah was trusting me to.
I wasn’t giving up.