Chapter 22 Jasper
Jasper
I moved through the manor with a mission.
I have always been a man who got what he wanted.
Always. The problem was: The only things I’d ever really wanted were usually just to spite another person.
The only reason I had a single dollar to my name was because spite flowed so heavily through my veins.
It was all in an effort to cause my father pain whenever he saw his name attached to an article about Blackwood Industries, after he had left me because he couldn’t take the backlash that his name was getting after poisoning half the town. This was different.
Want and need burned inside of me. I had known it was there—I wasn’t a fool.
A man couldn’t look at Eliza Arnold and not be filled with desire.
But every other woman I’d ever been with had been uncomplicated.
It was easy and careless. I had girls I could call who didn’t need anything extra from me but a quick fuck or a dinner.
I didn’t want anyone to be close to me. Until now.
Somewhere along the line, Eliza had gotten inside of me—and now that I’d gotten inside of her, I didn’t like the thought of letting her go. So I wouldn’t. At least not yet.
I stalked through the kitchen and into the garage.
“Are you leaving? Will you be gone for dinner?” Katya asked as she pulled a tray of something that smelled like apples and cinnamon from the oven.
“I’ll be back for dinner. I need to run into town. Do you have any extra aprons?”
She canted her head. “Aprons? I think I have some old ones I was going to give to my nieces. Why? Do you need them?”
“Two of them.” My hand hovered over the keys hanging on the hook as I decided which car to take before ultimately settling on the Jeep. “Katya, have you painted? What do I need to get for it?”
Her sharp face lit up. “For Eliza?”
“You say a word, I’ll fire you,” I threatened.
She grinned, looking at me thoughtfully for a minute.
“What are you staring at?” I asked as I grabbed one of the insanely hot apple muffin things.
“Nothing,” she said, looking down, the smile still there.
“Katya, don’t fucking toy with me,” I demanded. Had this been anyone but her or Leah, I really would have fired them, or worse.
“You deserve it, you know?” she said in a surprisingly soft voice. I was used to her gruff, curt tone. “To be happy.”
I took a bite of the pastry and scowled at her. “Calm your tits. She’s leaving in a few weeks. We’re just having fun.”
She nodded sarcastically and rolled her eyes. “Well, I think she’s the best thing that’s ever happened to you and this manor. Even with your father doing what he’s doing, I haven’t seen you smile or be this happy in…ever.”
I rolled my eyes and scowled again, uncomfortable with the attention to my personal life. I leaned in and gave the older woman a kiss on the cheek. “You’re lucky you’re such a good chef. I’ll be back soon.”
As I got into my car and left the manor, I realized how true Katya’s words had been.
I had tried to run from the storm that brewed between Eliza and me.
When I left for New York, I had every intention of never speaking to or seeing Eliza Arnold again.
I couldn’t imagine letting anyone get so close to me and seeing the parts of me that weren’t sharp and defensive.
To be honest, it had never even been a thought I’d had to entertain.
There was no struggle to keep people out.
It was an easy, thoughtless way of life.
Until the brown-haired, blue-eyed botanist entered my life.
She had already weaseled her way in before I left in an effort to keep her out.
Before I had come home from New York, I knew I needed her. At that point, I hadn’t thought about the logistics or the details—all I knew was that I needed her in my life. I didn’t care in what capacity; I wouldn’t spend another day trying to push her away.
Then last night happened.
I had to shift my position in the driver’s seat because my dick was stiffening at the thought of how fucking well she took me last night, how needy her tight little body had been—like she had been waiting for me to ruin her.
She shouldn’t have come apart so deliciously if she wanted it to be a one-time thing—which she didn’t.
She was mine, whether she liked it or not.
If you summon the devil, it’s pointless to flinch when he shows up.
I’d never really seen a girl cry before, maybe my mother once or twice, but not in the way Eliza had cried last night before I got to her room.
She wasn’t crying when I was in there; she was all anger and adrenaline, but I could tell she had cried really, really hard before I showed up.
A strange feeling had consumed me as I watched her red-rimmed eyes glare at me in pain-soaked anger.
It hit hard—in the emotional parts of me that shouldn’t have even still been functioning.
Gagging on my cock would be the only thing that made her eyes red and her mascara run, nothing else.
Now that I was in her life, no one was going to make her hurt.
I was unexpectedly invested in Eliza Arnold, and I protected my investments.
At some point, since being in this house, she had single-handedly reached in and defrosted my cold, unfeeling heart, and she didn’t even know it.
She was special. I never liked anyone—and I really, really liked her.
Not that I was one to throw stones, but her family had really done a number on her.
I knew she kept the darker details to herself, but I also knew she needed to get away from her mother.
Apparently, even if they didn’t abandon you, they could still be shitty, awful parents.
It was ironic: my parents didn’t want anything to do with me, and hers couldn’t leave her alone.
If Eliza couldn’t see her own worth, I would happily make it my job to teach her.
Her mother had beaten her down until she was left with nothing.
That was why she just took it—every awful thing her mother did or said to her was done under the lie that it all stemmed from love, but it wasn’t love.
She got rid of her goddamn apartment, for fuck’s sake, and now she was ruining things for me with Eliza.
I let out a slow breath and tried to focus on the road. Getting fired up about her mother wasn’t going to do anything.
Last night, I wanted Eliza to see how strong she was—that she could do anything and I would be there for her, no matter what happened. Even if things didn’t work out between us, she would never, ever have to fight alone again. Ever. Not many people earned my loyalty, but she had it.
When I had suggested that she use her adrenaline to face her fear and her knees had trembled, I’d felt like I was protecting a fragile little egg, keeping my hands on either side of it as it rolled clumsily to its destination, hoping I wasn’t going to break it.
When she opened her eyes and saw the view, I had no idea that from that fragile little egg, a fire-breathing dragon would emerge, ready to light the world on fire. She was mine.
She was fucking mine.
I was quickly learning that one of the things about having this sort of wildly electric connection with someone was that even without words, one look could give everything that each of us tried to hide away.
Eliza was spiraling, and rightfully so. I had already had my turn when I went to New York; now it was her turn to panic.
Neither one of us had had good experiences with the ones who were supposed to be there for you, and because of that, neither of us could trust or love easily—if we could at all.
I guess only time would tell if either of us were capable of doing justice to our deeper, stronger feelings.
She could say there was nothing between us all she wanted. But when we first kissed last night, it felt like a Mac truck full of lightning bolts had hit me, and I knew she felt it too. I was an idiot when it came to emotions, but even I knew that type of thing didn’t happen to everybody.
Nothing between us.
After last night, there was no fucking way I was letting that woman get away from me.
I couldn’t even think about her leaving the manor—I needed more time with her.
It was perfect; with her apartment gone, she could stay at the manor while she looked for someplace closer, and I would have more time with her.
Nick from her work could get fucked; she wasn’t moving in with him. She was staying with me.
The fact that she was trying to play off one of the hottest, most soul-connecting moments in history with the term fuck buddies was hilarious. I loved her sense of humor; it was one of the first things that drew me to her, but this wasn’t going to fly.
I knew what made her tick. If she wanted to pretend that this was nothing, then I would fucking push and prod her until she was so head over heels in love with me that she had no choice but to admit it…and to stay.
I would be patient with her—as patient as I could be. But I was going to win. She was going to admit that this was far from nothing.
I didn’t know what exactly it was, but it was something.
I left the craft store with no less than seven bags full of bright-colored shit. I had no idea what it was or what you did with it, but the sales associates had pointed out what I needed, and I had bought it all.
On the way home, I saw that I had missed a call from my attorney.
Things were heating up, legally speaking.
My father’s shithead lawyer had found some type of loophole, and they were running with it.
When I had taken over the property, the whole world had assumed they were dead, and I had let them, even the lawyers, which was biting me in the ass now.
I was grateful to have Eliza in the house with me while all this was happening. Aside from Sowerby, I had done everything on my own up until now, but after having Eliza for even a short time, I couldn’t imagine ever going without her again.
I would do everything in my power to stop Eliza from leaving me and the manor behind. That meant I only had a few weeks left—until the corpse flower bloomed—to convince her that she should stay.
When I arrived home, Katya was buzzing by the door, eager to help me set up for the night. After that was all done, I went to my room and changed, surprised by how difficult it was to find a pair of jeans and a T-shirt. I hadn’t realized how much of my life I spent in suits.
My eyes snagged on the chest with all of my parents’ letters. How many times had I thought about burning that chest? Unable to peel my eyes away from it, I walked over and reluctantly pulled a letter out.
My father coming back had been a shock, perhaps more shocking than when he left; I had assumed he would be gone forever.
After what had happened, I never thought either one of them would show their faces here again.
I knew he was afraid, and he should be. He was delusional thinking that I would ever give up this property without a fight.
I didn’t even want it, but I sure as shit wasn’t going to let them have it.
I’d burn the place down before I let them take something from me again.
I ran my fingertips over the letter and my mom’s signature and felt something familiar sting in my chest. It didn’t matter how much time had passed, I still couldn’t get rid of how much it hurt that she’d left.
I hated her. I hated her more than anyone in the whole world.
She had been the only one on my side. How she could go from such a caring, compassionate mother to abandoning me?
No matter how many times I tried to understand, I couldn’t.
Heat blurred my eyes and my teeth ground together painfully. My father shouldn’t have come back. If he knew what was really good for him, he would have stayed away from me and Blackwood Manor forever, like her.
I resisted the urge to crumple up the letter, instead carefully smoothing it out and placing it back inside the chest full of lies.
I slammed the chest closed and took a step before I unholstered my gun and imagined shooting a thousand holes in it.
The more my eyes blurred, the more furious I became.
After pulling my pistol, just to feel the comforting steel in my hand, I turned to the mirror, watched three tears fall from my eyes before lifting my gun and wiping them away.
I placed the tearstained gun on the dresser and pulled my favorite Blackwood Bladecraft knife from the drawer, adjusted it to its place hidden beneath my shirt, and took a long breath.
Then, I checked my reflection in the mirror and left to get Eliza.