54. Jasper
54
JASPER
I’m no stranger to The Coffee Shop. It’s convenient, close to the garage and clubhouse, but I don’t think I’ve been such a regular customer before now. Every day, like fucking clockwork, I drive the two blocks to the cafe and pick up a latte for my girl. Most of the time, I grab myself another Americano, because I’m never really going to turn down a good espresso.
And then I hand-deliver it to her bakery in Avalon Falls.
Hawke called me pussy-whipped the other day, but when I only shrugged and grinned at him in response, he muttered something about me being a lucky bastard and got back to work.
I thought shit might be weird with him, after our little run in last week at my house. But he never brought it up, so I didn’t either. He’s not acting any differently. And as long as I don’t let myself think about the fact that he can definitely picture my girl’s cunt now, I’m good.
Don’t get me wrong, I like the idea of being watched too. But I like how fucking hot it makes my girl even more.
I shake my head, scattering the thoughts before they really start taking shape. It’s too early to start thinking of all the ways I’m going to ruin Coraline tonight. And on all the different surfaces. My girl likes a little variety.
It’s strange, really. I’ve never been the kind of guy to settle down or share my space with anyone. But with her, it’s different.
It’s as easy as breathing.
Weeks ago, she came over under the guise of a broken car and worries over a serial killer. But her car wasn’t really broken, and there’s been no update on if we even have a serial killer in Avalon Falls. I still think the last two victims, Slater and Fell, are unrelated to the other ones. I’m betting it’s just a fucked-up coincidence.
I didn’t really care about the excuses though. I was happy to have her around. I still am.
Which is maybe the weirdest part about this whole thing. I keep waiting for the day to come where I’m irritated or annoyed with someone being in my space. But it’s not happening. It hasn’t been that long, and everyone would tell me to just wait, that moment is coming.
But I don’t fucking think it will.
I think I could wake up next to Coraline Carter for the rest of my life, and it wouldn’t be enough. I’d have to chase her ass down in the next life, and the one after that too.
Now, I understand what Nova was talking about last year when he tried to describe his feelings for Coraline’s cousin, Evangeline. The way he lit up when she was around, how he said everything else seemed to fade into the background.
I finally fucking get it. The peace she brings me by just being around. The joy of having someone who makes you want to come home.
But a dark cloud of secrecy hangs above my head, following me and trying to overshadow every perfect moment with my girl. It grows with every day I don’t tell her about the bakery. I know I need to, but I haven’t found the right time yet.
I pull along the curb, a prime parking spot in front of The Coffee Shop on Main Street. The unofficial neon trio of gossip stands by the entrance—Mrs. Matthews, Mrs. Shepley, and Mrs. Weatherby.
I hop out of my car, closing the door and calling out, “Mornin’ ladies.” As one, they turn toward me.
“Well, would you look at that? Someone’s right on time,” Mrs. Matthews says with a grin.
“You keepin’ tabs on me, Mrs. Matthews?” I tease her with a wink. “Loving the blue today, by the way.”
Their windbreakers are complimentary today, all three of them wearing different shades of neon blue. I honestly didn’t know so much neon variation existed until they started wearing it every day this summer.
“I told you,” Mrs. Weatherby says, looking smugly from one friend to the other. “Blue is our color.”
Mrs. Shepley leans forward, cupping her ear with her hand. “Gals, do you hear that?”
Mrs. Weatherby and Mrs. Matthews lean forward, tilting their ears toward Mrs. Shepley.
“Wedding bells,” Mrs. Shepley flashes me a shark-like grin.
Like it’s some kind of coordinated move, the other two lean back, twin grins on their faces as well.
I shake my head, my brows raised. “I’m lost.”
“Well,” Mrs. Shepley begins, tapping her pink long nails against her coffee cup. “I heard our favorite baker moved in with you, so I assumed you’re going to do the right thing and make an honest woman out of her.” She blinks at me, this innocent expression on her face like she’s just repeating what she heard and not starting a rumor herself.
I laugh when I get her meaning, shaking my head. “One step at a time, ladies. Right now, I’m just focusing on keeping her happy with coffee.”
“You’re a smart man,” Mrs. Matthews says, patting my arm like she’s giving me her blessing. “But you better lock her down while you can, Jagger.”
“C’mon, gals, let’s leave the man to caffeinate our baker. We’ve got to get in another three miles this morning,” Mrs. Weatherby says, jerking her head toward the street.
The three of them leave in a puff of floral perfume and neon, power-walking down the sidewalk like a trio of badasses in a superhero movie.
Twenty minutes later, I pull up to Sugarplum Bakery armed with enough caffeine to make my girl forget that I agreed to watch any vampire movie of her choice tonight.
The front door is cracked open, just enough to set every alarm in my head blaring. I kill the engine, shoving the coffee cups into the holder and stepping out of the car in one fluid motion.
The bell above the door barely chimes as I push it open, and the familiar scent of sugar and melted chocolate hits me like it always does. But today, it’s tainted with something rotten and sour.
Tony Falcone stands in front of the counter.
Every muscle inside me tenses at the sight of him. What the fuck is he doing here? It’s been weeks since we squared up, which means there’s no reason for him to be polluting my girl’s airspace. He’s fucking toxic, the kind of destruction that causes chaos just because he thinks he can.
My eyes find her immediately. She’s standing behind the counter, lips pinched and brows low over worried eyes. She’s twisting her fingers together, her back pin straight. Yeah, my girl is uncomfortable.
“You okay, baby?” I ask, my voice low and steady as I step further into the bakery. I don’t take my eyes off of Falcone. I don’t fucking trust him.
“I’m fine. This is, uh?—”
“Now don’t you worry, sweet cheeks. Your old man and I are already acquainted. Ain’t that right, Reaper?” Falcone drawls, rocking back on his feet. He turns his head slowly, a smug grin spreading across his face as he catches sight of me.
I move closer, every muscle in my body coiled tight. “The fuck you doing here, Falcone?”
Falcone’s eyes gleam with something dark and twisted as he straightens up, brushing nonexistent dust off his ripped flannel. “Just tying up some loose ends.” He pulls a folded envelope out of his back pocket and tosses it to the counter. “Took longer for my lawyer to sort through Uncle Joey’s things. You know how these things go.”
Dread squeezes its fist around my heart, tight enough that I don’t think I can breathe for a few seconds. Outwardly, I maintain my stoic smirk, unwilling to let this motherfucker know he pulled one over on me.
Coraline clears her throat, but she doesn’t take the envelope. “What is this?”
“Open it,” Falcone instructs, folding his arms across his chest and smirking at me.
Coraline’s eyes dart towards me, her teeth worrying at the corner of her mouth. I meet her gaze and give a small nod, reassuring her.
She pulls out a bunch of papers, her gaze flying over them. She scans five or six of them quickly before she turns to Falcone. “I don’t understand. What changed?”
Falcone peels his smug grin from me to look at my girl. His laughter sounds like a gunshot, loud and abrasive. Hand on his stomach and head tipped back. “Oh fuck me, this is too good. He didn’t tell you?”
Coraline looks between Falcone and me, confusion clouding her features. "Tell me what?"
Falcone's cruel gaze lands back on me, mirth dancing in his eyes. "You wanna tell her, Reaper? Or should I?"
Every muscle in my body goes rigid, my jaw clenching so hard my teeth ache. I don’t give him the satisfaction of a response, keeping my face impassive even as dread pools in my gut. I thought I had more time. Fuck this and fuck him for making me tell her like this.
Coraline’s confused gaze bores into me, her brow furrowed as she clutches the papers. “Jasper, what’s going on?”
My jaw works as I try to find the words, a sinking feeling settling in my gut. This isn’t how I wanted her to find out. Not like this, with Falcone in the front row.
I take a step toward her, my voice low and urgent. “Let me explain?—”
Falcone’s barking laughter cuts me off. “Oh this is too good. Goddamn, I almost wish Chad and Ernie were here to witness this. It might’ve made them dyin’ worth it, ya know.” He leans against the counter, his smirk widening when he sees Coraline’s stunned expression. “Oh, you didn’t know your man killed my boys? How curious.”
“I didn’t kill anybody,” my words come out like steel, unbending and ironclad.
Falcone scoffs. “Right, you just fucked ’em up real good and someone else offed ’em?”
Something inside of me shifts, like a switch was flipped. I cross the ten feet between us, planting myself between him and Coraline.
“I’m not apologizing for teaching your boys some manners. They touched something that doesn’t belong to them. There are consequences for that.” I shrug, my mouth tilting into a cruel smile. “It’s on you that your boys act like wild animals.”
Falcone squares up to me, his chest puffed out like he’s thinking about taking a swing. “Was that before or after you came to me and bought your little girlie’s bakery here?”
I hear Coraline’s sharp inhale, but I can’t give her my attention, not yet. Not until I get this motherfucker out of her vicinity. He’s got a wild look in his eye, one that promises trouble.
I don’t know if it’s going to be today or next week or next year, but Tony Falcone’s days are numbered.
“You see, sweet cheeks, your man here bought this building. Guess he’s your new daddy now.”
The words hang in the air, heavy and poisonous. I feel the weight of the secret I’ve been carrying crash down around us.
Falcone steps back, his grin never faltering as he watches the destruction he wrought. “See you ‘round, girlie,” he says, sauntering toward the door with an air of smug satisfaction.
The door swings shut behind him, the bell’s chime somehow more ominous than usual.