57. Jasper
57
JASPER
I’m in the worst fuckin’ mood of my life, and the only person that can turn it around texted me three hours ago, telling me she’s going to my house. And then she left me a cryptic voicemail an hour later. Which would be fine, except that I misplaced my phone at the garage and only just found it five fucking minutes ago. I thought working on cars in the fucking oven we call a garage would be the best way to work through some of this shit festering inside of me.
And it was. Until I accidentally misplaced my fucking phone in Mrs. Otto’s old beamer like a fucking rookie. And now I can’t shake the impenetrable feeling that something is very, very wrong.
Urgency thrums under my skin, a persistent, quickening beat with every mile I drive closer to my house.
This morning, our conversation, her face—they’ve all been playing on repeat in my mind for the last few hours. Tumbling around and around, their sharp edges nicking my gut with every pass. I feel like I should look like a broken, bloody mess.
I tear down my driveway, gravel spraying under my tires as I skid to a stop. I don't even bother pulling into the garage, leaving my truck haphazardly parked at an angle. I'm out of the vehicle before the engine even finishes sputtering to silence.
"Coraline!" I bellow as I burst through the front door. Her name echoes through the quiet house, bouncing off the walls and mocking me with its unanswered plea.
I storm inside, my boots thudding heavily on the hardwood floors. Not even Pudding comes to greet me, which is fucking odd. The only thing he loves more than Coraline is greeting me at the door.
Something is wrong.
I hear thumping coming from the living room, and without hesitation, I jog down the hall and burst through the kitchen. “Coraline?”
But instead of the stunning shade of brunette that sparkles red in the sun, it’s a flat, mousy brown.
“What the fuck are you doing here?” I snarl.
“Oh,” my half-sister squeaks, twisting around and clutching something to her chest. “You’re home!” Happiness lights up her face like she just saw a mound of presents with her name on it.
I storm into my living room, hackles raised and gaze heavy. “What the fuck are you doing inside my house, Naomi.”
She drops the bundle of clothing to the floor and backs up a few steps. My gaze cuts to the navy blue boxer briefs with little eggplant emojis on top of the pile. I distinctly remember Coraline pulling them off with her teeth last night, so how the fuck did they end up in my living room?
I shake my head, scattering those questions to the wind. They’re not important. No, what’s most important is figuring out why the fuck my half-sister is standing in the middle of my house like she belongs here.
Her hands fly out in front of her, a paltry attempt at placating me, I’m sure. “Now Jasper?—”
“Jagger,” I snap.
She tilts her head to the side, her brows creasing with confusion. “But your name is Jasper.”
“Not to you it’s not,” I growl out, advancing on her. “You have ten seconds to tell me why you’re here and how the fuck you got into my house.”
Her back hits the wall with a muted thud and her face brightens, her smile tipping up in the corners and stretching too wide. “Oh, well, that’s easy. She let me in.”
I stop in front of her, just out of arm’s reach. I don’t want to give her an opportunity to touch me. My heart kicks inside my chest when her words register. “She? She who?”
There are only two women who have access to this house, neither of which are the one in front of me.
Naomi reaches forward and tries to hook her index finger onto my pinky. “C’mon, Jasper, don’t make me say her name right now. It’ll only upset me, and I don’t want to be unhappy right now. Not when I’ve finally gotten everything I’ve ever wanted.”
Horror slams into me with the weight of a Mack truck. I feel my eyes widen to uncomfortable sizes, and I stumble backward. “What the fuck are you talking about?”
She lunges toward me, wrapping her arms around my middle and squeezing like some human-sized barnacle. “Don’t do this, Jasper. Don’t break us up now, not after all the hard work I’ve done to get us here. Not when I finally took care of everything in our path.”
I wrench her arms off of me and dodge out of the way when she tries to lunge for me again. Pieces of the puzzle start to form inside my mind, each one dripping with fear. Understanding is slow, and I don’t think I can fully comprehend what the fuck is going on, but one thing is clear: I need to find Coraline. Now.
I pivot on the ball of my foot and jump over the back of the couch. “Coraline,” I yell, sprinting toward the staircase. “Are you up there, baby?”
My heart thunders inside my ears, a staccato rhythm of dread. I take the stairs two at a time, ignoring whatever Naomi is shouting at me. I burst into the bedroom, expecting to find the love of my life bound and gagged or—no.
Fucking no . I will not allow myself to sink into those fear-soaked worst-case scenarios.
But it doesn’t matter because she’s not here.
The air saws in and out of my lungs with labored effort as I tear apart my bedroom—our bedroom—like she’s going to be hiding underneath the bed or behind my laundry hamper in the closet. She’s not in here or the bathroom or the loft space. She’s not anywhere.
And yet, she’s everywhere. Her kindle on the nightstand, my tee she nicked to sleep in the first night she was here. Her clothes, toiletries—it’s all still here.
I brace my hands on the doorframe to the en suite bathroom, my mind spinning. So she left in a hurry and didn’t take anything or she didn’t leave by choice.
I run down the stairs and storm into Naomi. Her smile crumples in the corners as she trips over her feet backing up. I clench my fists to keep my hands busy, old habits riding me hard.
My body is fucked-up, my fight-or-flight response tripped hours ago, and coming home to Naomi in my living room and not Coraline has only activated it further. Too many years living as a Reaper in the old ways. Always a heartbeat away from all-out war, always on guard and ready to fall into action.
This whole fucking thing feels like one big trigger for me.
“Where is she?” I seethe, getting into her space.
“Who?” she says, blinking at me with purposely wide eyes. I’m not buying the innocent act for a single fucking second.
“Don’t fucking play with me, Naomi. Where is Coraline?” I bite out through gritted teeth.
She blinks, her brown eyes darkening. “Coraline? Hm, I don’t know a Coraline.” She snaps her fingers, her lips twisting into a cruel smirk. “Oh wait. Black hair, blue eyes, legs for days, and a little jealous? That Coraline?” She lifts a shoulder and leans back against the wall. “I took care of her for us.”
I’m not proud of it, but I use my size to intimidate her. I would never put my hands on a woman, not unless my life was in danger. But there’s this gnawing void in my gut, growing wider and blacker by the second that tells me it’s not my life in danger right now.
It’s hers.
“You don’t know me, Naomi. And whatever version of me you dreamed up doesn’t fucking exist. So let me educate you. I’m a motherfucking Reaper. I’ll stop at nothing to protect what’s mine, and make no mistake, Coraline Carter is mine. She’s the fucking love of my life.”
She clenches her jaw, her face turning an unsightly shade of rage.
I dip my chin. “Good, you’re listening. Last chance. You tell me what you did to my woman, and I’ll ask for leniency when the rest of the brotherhood gets here.”
Naomi’s mouth twists into an ugly sneer, her eyes bloodshot with true fear. “You wouldn’t hurt me, Jasper. You love me.”
“I don’t fucking love you. I don’t even know you,” I correct, my voice low. I tsk, the most condescending sound I’ve ever made. “You didn’t really think this through, did you? Not only is Coraline my fucking woman, she also happens to be related to the Prez’s old lady.” I let that sink in for a minute, enjoying the way her throat constricts. I’m banking on the fact that she gleaned the basic knowledge of MCs since she kept showing up at the compound.
She swallows hard, her gaze darting around like a cornered animal. "I just wanted us to be together. Like we're meant to be. She was in the way of that."
Disgust roils through me at her intention. “You’re my half-sister, Naomi. Nothing more.”
“That’s just not true,” she cries, tears brimming in her lashes. “We’re family. You’re supposed to take care of me! I love you !”
I nod, too quickly and too many times. “Alright, Naomi. Have it your way.” I take a step back and pull my phone from my pocket. I keep my gaze on the snake in the grass and call Hawke.
“Hey, man,” Hawke answers on the first ring.
“I need you at my lake house. Now, Hawke,” I reply, my voice clipped and sharp.
Hawke whistles under his breath. “I’m gonna go ahead and assume it’s not for another round with Carter based on the way you’re breathing into the phone.”
“Bring a couple brothers. We’re gonna have a mess to clean up.” I end the call without waiting for his response.
Naomi goes pale, like someone yanked the color from her cheeks. “I-I didn’t do anything.”
I point my phone at her. “Try again. How did you get into my house.”
“The door was unlocked,” she replies quickly—too quickly. She swallows audibly, sweat glistening on her forehead. “It’s not my fault. She was here, which is not how I planned this moment. And if you would’ve just answered my calls instead of sending me to voicemail, then she wouldn’t even be here.”
I step closer to Naomi, my patience evaporating. "I'm not going to ask you again. What did you do to Coraline? Where is she?"
Naomi's breathing turns shallow and rapid as she presses herself against the wall. "I didn't mean for it to go this far, Jasper. I swear. I just wanted her out of the way so we could be together, like we're supposed to be."
“Stop talking.” Dread claws at my insides as she talks in circles. She speaks with such conviction, like she’s the wronged person in this scenario.
I call Coraline, but her phone just rings and rings and fucking rings. I hang up when her voicemail kicks on. Maybe I’m overreacting, maybe it’s nothing. But this whole situation reeks, and something in my gut tells me this is just the beginning.
Me: Call me, baby.
Me: I’m at home, but you’re not here
Me: Where are you?
Five minutes go by, and it feels like a lifetime. Each passing second without a response from Coraline only amplifies the dread swirling in my gut. I pace the living room, my mind spinning with worst case scenarios.
Naomi shifts restlessly against the wall, her eyes following my movements. “Jasper, please, can we just talk about this? I did this for us. She was coming between us and our love.”
I whip around to face her, fury surging through my veins. “Shut your fucking mouth, Naomi. There is no us! There never was and there never will be. Whatever twisted fantasy you’ve dreamt up is bullshit. So unless you’re ready to tell me what you did, don’t fucking speak.”
My fingers tremble with rage and fear as I send her more texts, hoping she can just put me out of my misery and let me know she’s okay.
Me: Baby, please. Just text me back, let me know you’re safe.
My chest aches, fear taking residence inside my chest. I send her a final text.
Me: Please.