Jameson
I drop my shoulders in the back of my limo as I steel myself for what I’m about to do.
“Are you sure about this?” Alan asks as he opens the door.
“Yes. It is what it is; I’m not hiding any longer,” I say as I climb out of the car. I look up at the New York Police Department sign above the door, and I walk through.
The policeman at the front desk smiles. “Can I help you, sir?”
“Yes, my name is Jameson Miles, and I would like to hand myself in.”
The policeman’s face falters. “You are wanted?”
“I was involved in a fistfight with a man named Gabriel Ferrara and then went to the hospital. I was unaware until late last night that you were looking for me. My apologies for taking so long to get here.”
The policeman smiles. “Thank you for coming in.” He opens a door at the side of r
