Chapter 27
CHAPTER
TWENTY-SEVEN
JASPER
“Where are you going?” my mother asks me as I make my way down the stairs.
At the sound of her voice, I look up, and I can’t help but smile. She smiles back, making me huff out a laugh. “Just going for a drive, I need to clear my head.”
Her smile falters a bit, and I hate that I’m the reason for the crinkle at the corners of each eye.
“It’s fine, Mom, I swear. Just a lot on my mind.”
“Is it the murders?” she questions.
I stop in front of her, sliding my leather jacket on.
“Mostly.” I nod.
The things we’ve had to do to prove our loyalty to the Brotherhood are downright horrendous.
I fully believe that if it wasn’t for the woman standing in front of me, I’d have become the very monster I’ve spent years fearing I’d turn into.
My parents’ marriage might have started off as an arranged marriage, but the moment they met, they knew they were meant for one another.
Despite my mother being a part of the same twisted and corrupt world as my father, she is nothing like him.
While I believe nothing in this world is a hundred percent pure, she's pretty damn close.
No matter what hell I’ve gone through, she was always there to keep me together. Her love and kindness was everything I needed.
But it wasn’t enough to keep all the darkness away.
It didn’t take long before my humanity, morality, and sanity started to be affected by the world I’ve grown up in.
“Have they been giving you a hard time?”
She means the Brotherhood.
“I have it handled.”
They are not happy about someone running rampant and making a mess out of New Orleans’ streets. I assured them that I’d do everything in my power to get to the bottom of this, but that will only satisfy them for so long.
I tried to work my connections at the NOPD to get answers; to see what they’re doing about this or if they have any leads, possibly a suspect.
Nothing. They have nothing. No idea who could be doing this or why.
They’ve attempted DNA testing, but nothing is left behind. They’ve looked through all the surrounding camera feeds of the places the bodies were found, but there was nothing they found that could pinpoint any suspects.
It doesn’t make sense. No one gets away with being a fucking serial killer in this day and age. Not with how far forensic science and technology has gotten.
It’s either someone who’s really good at covering up their tracks, or they’re working with the NOPD.
I still believe it’s Roscoe Landry trying to frame us. The guys think that because the deaths stopped being women we’ve slept with, that it’s just some creep out there killing young girls.
And while that might be true, the fact is, these other women who have found themselves dead might not have been women we’ve slept with, but they are women we knew in some sort of capacity.
In a way, there’s still a connection to us. These women are daughters of men who have a connection to the Brotherhood. Business partners, family members, friends of friends. It’s all connected.
This is why they’re breathing down my neck, demanding I do something about it.
I feel like I’m failing my father. He willingly gave our family’s position of power within the Brotherhood to me after my uncle died.
I’m representing our family, and I’m letting him down.
And I fucking hate myself for it.
“I know you are. And I believe in you.” She gives me a warm smile. “But I’m worried. What about the girls?”
The girls are safe. I made sure of it. They’re not aware of it, but I assigned Garrett to watch over Callie and Nola when we’re not able to. I don’t trust anyone else.
It helps that those two are always together.
Whatever is going on, there's no way in hell I’m going to let Nola or Callie get hurt.
“We have someone watching over them,” I reassure her.
“How come you don’t do it yourself?” She gives me a knowing look.
I just stare at her, not wanting to have this conversation with my mother… again.
She believes that it’s time for us to do what we’ve always planned and make Nola ours.
Especially now, since we not only have the power to keep her safe, but we, in fact, hold all the power. We have the ability to go to war for her if it ever came down to it.
What she doesn’t seem to understand is that the plan we’ve talked about, back when I was a teenager, isn’t logical now.
We didn’t know back then just how fucked up this life was going to make us.
“Because we’re trying to keep our distance,” I mutter.
“Why on earth would you want to do that? I thought everything was going great. Callie has been telling me all about how the three of you have been hanging out with Nola a lot more.”
Of course she did. My mom has always loved Callie, and she was great friends with their mother. Mom took it hard when she passed.
“We’re not in high school, Mom.” I roll my eyes. “Sylas likes to keep an eye on his sister; Callie and Nola are best friends. Therefore, if we’re around Callie, we’re most likely going to be around Nola. We’ve never hung out with Nola alone.”
“Why not?” She narrows her eyes. “How are you going to win her over if you won’t even allow yourself to be alone with the girl? Come on, Jasper.”
I run my tongue along my teeth, trying not to get annoyed with my mother.
“We’re not planning on winning her over. We’ve been over this. That plan died a long time ago.”
“Yeah, yeah.” She waves me off. “You think you're too big and mean for a girl like Nola. Did you ever stop to think that maybe she would love you just how you are? You’re not as big and bad as you like to let yourself believe. I know you have the ability to be the good man that she needs. You’re great with Callie and me.
Sure, you're a bit prickly, but so is your father.” She laughs like just the mention of him brings her joy.
Sometimes she talks about him as if he’s not a cold stone killer and vicious businessman.
My father left the Brotherhood the moment he met my mother. He didn’t hesitate to hand it over to his brother as long as it meant he got to keep my mom.
He flat-out refused to continue to practice because doing the ritual wasn’t an option for him anymore. He didn’t want to touch another woman.
And when he was given the option of staying and having my mother partake in the ritual, he laughed in his father’s face.
He said he would rather kill Sylas’ and Wesley’s dads than let them lay a hand on his woman.
Unlike Sylas, Wesley, and me, our fathers hated one another.
They viewed my father’s loyalty to my mother as a weakness. As if that made him less of a man.
My father is a million times more of a man than they ever could be. I’m glad Sylas put an end to his father, and if Wesley’s father tried to push back against us when we forcibly removed him from power, he would have met the same fate.
“I love you. But I really don’t want to have this conversation again.” I lean down and press a kiss to the top of her head. “Bye.”
She lets out a heavy sigh. “You stubborn boy. I wish you’d just allow yourself to be happy!” she calls after me.
“I’m perfectly happy!” I shout back before opening the door to the garage.
I’m not fucking happy. I’m stressed the fuck out of my damn mind. I feel like I’m losing control of my life and everything in it. And now I’m failing my father.
I’m set to take over the company for him come this fall, but would he still want me to after seeing how badly I’m handling everything with the Brotherhood?
Grabbing my bike helmet, I shove it on, straddle my bike, and take off.
I love going for drives at night. The roads are dead, giving me free rein to ride however I want.
I’m heading down my street, ready to turn off to head towards the highway, when I see a girl walking on the side of the street.
At first, I question how smart this girl is. I mean, she’s out after dark, alone when there’s a killer on the loose. And, on top of that, she fits in with all his targets.
As I pass, I cast a quick glance out of curiosity. As soon as I see her face, I have to do a double-take.
Anger boils inside me, and my hands grip the handlebars roughly. What the fuck is Nola doing out here alone?! Is she fucking crazy?
I slow the bike down and do a sharp U-turn, making a loop around before catching up with her. I ride the bike up onto the sidewalk, cutting her off.
“What the hell?!” she shrieks, her blue eyes wide with shock and terror.
With the bike still idling, I turn to face her.
“Why are you out here alone?” I shout over the rumble of my bike’s engine.
“Jasper?” Her brows pull together.
I push up the visor of my helmet, glaring down at her.
“Answer the question, Nola,” I demand. I’m so pissed off that she would be so stupid as to risk her safety like this. “There’s a killer running around New Orleans, killing young girls who look just like you. You know this. So why the fuck are you out here alone at night?”
She blinks at me a few times before raising a brow. “I’m fine. Trust me.”
“Excuse me while I call bullshit,” I snap. “You’re not fine. And I’m not going to leave you here just to find out you’re this sick fuck’s next victim. Get on the bike, Nola.”
“You’re being ridiculous. But, if you must know, I’m armed.” She reaches into her large purse, and this girl pulls out a full fucking butcher’s knife.
“Why the hell do you have that in your purse?”
“Uh, protection? Callie said it was smart to bring a knife if I went anywhere on my own.”
“I think she meant like a fucking switchblade, not a kitchen knife.”
“What’s the difference?” she questions. “If I can stab them with it, that's all that matters, right?” she states matter-of-factly while waving the damn thing around like it doesn’t have the capability to cause some serious damage in the right hands.
I guess she does have a point. It could work. But she’s being so careless, she’s going to end up hurting herself.
“Would you put that away before you hurt yourself?” I snarl.
She just rolls her eyes and shoves the knife back into her purse. She rolls her fucking eyes! Who is this girl?