Page 74 of Beneath a Tennessee Sky

Chapter Twenty-Four

Jinnie

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CHICAGO’S SKYLINE LOOMS ahead as I merge onto Lakeshore Drive. I hate driving in the city. Not that I would really know that because I’ve only ever ridden as a passenger in the city. It’s a different beast compared to the quiet roads back home.

The GPS says twelve minutes to the hotel. Twelve minutes until I see him. Twelve minutes to find out if the boy I fell for still exists under all that glitter and bravado. I hope he’s still there.

My phone buzzes in the cup holder—another news alert.

Jumping Jack Cancels Fall Tour Amid Growing Controversy.

I turn it face down. The fan forums had been buzzing all morning with rumors about the label dropping him. That’s why I’m here. Because no one else will be. I know he’s probably devastated right now. That evil bitch Liz gave a quick interview letting the world know Jack had disappointed her.

I knew damn well she was behind his downfall. My suspicions were confirmed when she used the interview to promote the new guy she’s working with. He’s younger than Jack and came from nowhere. She’s going to chew him up and spit him out as soon as she gets bored and moves onto the next one.

It should be criminal what she’s doing.

The hotel valet eyes my car with barely concealed disdain as I pull up. “Checking in, ma’am?”

“No. Visiting.” I square my shoulders, refusing to let his disgust for my car or my appearance get me down.

Once inside, I realize I’m not going to be able to ask the front desk for his room number. Given who he is, I imagine he’s in the penthouse. Now, I just need to figure out how to get up there. If it’s anything like the penthouse in Memphis—oh shit. He’s going to be homeless now! The thought makes me sad for him.

I see a housekeeping cart discreetly pushed into a corner. I take it, push the button for the elevator, and walk inside. It takes some persuading to get up to the penthouse floor, but I manage it. I’m standing outside the penthouse doors, my heart hammering against my ribs. What if he’s not alone? What if he doesn’t want to see me? What if—

I knock before I can talk myself out of it.

The silence stretches and I consider leaving. I should call him first.

Footsteps. The click of the lock.

The door swings open, and there he is.

No sequins. No stage makeup. Just Jack in wrinkled jeans and a t-shirt, his hair sticking up in all directions, his eyes bloodshot and wide.

“Jinnie?” His voice cracks.

I open my mouth to explain, but before I can get a word out, he stumbles forward and collapses against me, his face buried in my shoulder, his whole body shaking.

“I’m here,” I whisper, wrapping my arms around him. “I’ve got you.”

I hold him right there in the doorway. My heart shatters for him. He’s destroyed. I don’t know if I can fix him or the situation, but I can hold him.

After several minutes, he steps back. “Sorry,” he murmurs. “Come in.”

I walk inside and cringe. The suite is a disaster. I try not to think about the party that happened in here. Or the women.

He won’t meet my eyes as he sinks onto the couch. “How’d you find me?”

“Fan forums.” I perch beside him, careful not to touch. “They track wherever you are.”

A bitter laugh escapes him. “Of course.” He rubs his face. “You saw the video.”

“I saw a lot of things.” My fingers itch to reach for him, but I fist them in my lap instead. “That’s why I came.”

Jack finally looks at me, his expression filled with pain and regret. “It wasn’t about farmers. It was about him. My dad. Aiden. All of them.” His hands clench. “But it came out wrong, and now—”