19. Jasper
NINETEEN
JASPER
We knew this was coming, but it doesn’t make the moment any less scary as Tyson pulls up the email from Carter’s father, and we find out if he bought what we’re selling.
The scene was staged, and if we’re lucky, he’ll follow the trail of deception while we haul ass across Canada.
“Well, does he believe it?” Carter asks, her eyes widened and her body tense, but Ty wraps an arm over her, pulling her into his chest without saying a word.
He can read her mind, and body language, sometimes not even needing to look in her direction, and I’m grateful that he’s the glue holding her together.
“He doesn’t believe it. Carter, it’s for you,” he reads, handing the phone off to her, but she shuts her eyes, not looking at the screen.
“Just tell me, Tyson. He knows where we are, doesn’t he? He’s coming after me,” she whispers, her voice breaking with each word, and I hold back my anger, not wanting to scare her while she’s vulnerable.
I hate how small this man makes her feel, the light draining from her eyes the second he’s mentioned, and the ways in which her body reacts at the thought of being captured by him.
“No, not exactly. He said to cut the bullshit and he expects you home for the wedding or there will be consequences,” Tyson explains, and Carter exhales a deep breath, like the news isn’t as bad as she expected, but I still feel uneasy.
The trail I left was designed to keep him looking in the wrong places, but without that distraction, he could be on our heels sooner than expected.
“There’s no use sitting around and wondering what any of that means, so let’s hit the road.
We’re still eight hours away from him, Principessina, you’re safe with us,” I tell her, resting my hand on her thigh as she nods, accepting my words at face value, and sprawling out until her head lands in Tyson’s lap.
With nothing to do but stare at the road, I let my mind wander, thinking of the life we’re leaving behind, and the new one we’re barreling toward.
The name Masseria won’t carry any weight where we’re going, and for the first time in my life, nobody will know where I came from.
My father was a ruthless man, and in turn, he trained me to be exactly like him, but now that he’s gone, I’ve never felt more free.
If I don’t pick up a weapon, torture a man for information, or find myself in another near death experience, I’ll be content.
It’ll be an adjustment, but a welcome change of pace as all three of us have been under someone else’s thumb since we were born, and this is our first chance at a normal life.
I never thought that one day I’d want to run away and start over, or that I’d be anything other than compliant to my father’s demands, but one girl was able to flip my entire world on its head, and I’ve been at her mercy every single second since our eyes met across a crowded room.
It sounds like something you’d see in a cheesy romance book, with much darker details in our story, but if you were to ask me how Carter changed my life, that’s exactly how I’d describe it.
In the darkness, I can now see a haze, or even light, and that’s because of the effect she’s had on me, her ability to find a silver lining in every scenario acting as a welcome addition to the ways in which I view the world.
I never thought it was possible that one person could alter the trajectory of my life, or change the way I think, but Carter isn’t just any average human, and I will always believe that she was created solely to be my partner in death.
Every mess I’ve made, horrendous act of violence I’ve committed, or terrible thought I’ve had, she’s done worse, and the base of our connection stems from the fucked up thoughts we share.
“Jasper, can I sit with you?” Carter breaks through my reflection, and I watch as she untangles herself from Tyson’s grasp, our gaze locking through the rearview mirror.
“You know I’d never say no to getting you all to myself. Come here, my little insomniac.” I tap the seat, gently riding the brakes as she climbs over the middle console, her slender frame sliding into the passenger chair with ease.
“I’m scared, Jasper. I’m not sure if we had enough time to get away,” she says, rubbing her wrists while staring out the window, the darkness of the road only illuminated by the headlights.
“Will you do me a favor?” I ask, holding my hand over hers, and she raises an eyebrow, waiting for me to deliver my request. “Roll up your sleeves.”
“No.” She shakes her head, immediately pushing back, but I grip her wrists tighter, hoping she trusts me enough to hear me out.
“It’s just you and me in this dark car, nobody can see us. Let’s just try it for five minutes, and if you start to feel uncomfortable, you can roll them back down?” I propose, and she takes a few beats to think it through, finally pushing the shirt to her elbows.
“Okay, now what?” She breathes, immediately rubbing the raw skin on her wrists, but I keep my eyes forward, not wanting to ruin the moment.
“We talk it through. How are you feeling?”
“Exposed. Vulnerable. When the air hits my scars it reminds me of how hard I fought against the restraints, and I can almost smell the blood that puddled on the concrete,” she confesses, her voice small and full of fear, but I forge on, digging further into her mind.
“It’s just you and me, Principessina. You’re not in that place anymore, and those scars may be a reminder of what you endured, but they’re also proof that you fucking survived,” I offer, hoping that pouring a little positivity back into her will assist in how she views herself, and those scars.
“I don’t feel like a survivor, though. I feel like a prisoner who escaped, and knows that they’ll eventually be dragged back by the calvary,” she says somberly, and I try the one thing that may be able to bring her an ounce of peace.
“We already went over the plans and I promise you, I won’t hesitate. I know what you lived through, and I’d rather end your life than allow it to happen again.” I take her hand in mine, lacing our fingers together, which only slightly eases the tension in her bones.
Selfishly, I wish there was another topic I could use, something else that would lift the weight of the world off her shoulders, but while we’re on the run, we’re still far away from a place where the trauma can be buried.
“Are you sure you’d be able to go through with it?” She questions, her icy blue eyes staring at me, her gaze cutting through the darkness like tiny, sparkling diamonds.
“Yes.” I barely let her finish that sentence, my absolute certainty the only thing I can offer to ease her worries.
“You could look me in my eyes and pull that trigger? Jasper, we may only have seconds, and I need you to be sure,” she says, a storm raging in her mind, the possibilities endless, but I know what I’m capable of.
I’ve killed countless men, been able to switch off a part in my brain that resembles a conscious, and pull the trigger without a care in the world.
We’re only forty-eight hours removed from when I almost did the same thing in that tunnel, even when I was staring into the eyes of the woman I love.
I’m not God, and I don’t plan on pretending to be, but if the time comes where I have to do something so heinous, I’m more than prepared to become the worst possible version of myself – for her.
“I’ll shoot you, Carter. Then, I’ll turn the gun on myself, because I can’t live without you. If you die, I’m right behind you.” A red light forces me to hit the brakes, but I turn to face my girl, stealing a second to give her all of my attention.
She’s stubborn, especially when she’s in deep thought, but I force her to look at me, tugging at her shoulder until she finally concedes.
“Jasper, I fucking forbid you from killing yourself in my name,” she spits, a darkness overtaking her blue irises, and when my name rolls off her tongue, I know she means business.
Unfortunately for her, the request she placed solely on my shoulders comes with my own terms, and I’m not backing down.
“Then I won’t do it for you. Do you think I could live with myself if I ended your life? You’re my sun, moon, and stars, Principessina, but do you think I could honestly pull that trigger, watch the blood drain from your body and then turn around and face Tyson?”
While Tyson is fully aware of my plans – if we get to this point – it doesn’t make this responsibility any less hard, and while I’m confident in what I can do, I also know what I can’t.
Looking into Tyson’s eyes, after having to kill Carter in cold blood, is the one thing I could never do.
Hurting him, ripping the soul from his body and stomping on its remains would be the marquee of my crimes, the headline every time my name is spoken aloud, and I’d never have the guts to meet his gaze after committing the cruelest act of betrayal.
“Kill him, too.” Carter drops a bomb in my lap, and I can barely take a breath, let alone form a proper sentence.
“What?” I’m completely dumbfounded, spitting out the first word that comes to mind in response to the craziest thing she’s ever said.
“Shoot Tyson, too. I don’t want to live without either of you,” she repeats herself, in the same monotone voice, showing how dead serious she is.
Rather than argue, I choose to accept her pleas, because how could we both leave Tyson alone on this Earth after all he did to bring us back together?
Ride or die – that’s what this always has been, and always will be.
“Carter, this is fucking morbid,” I laugh, breaking through the heaviness, and leaving the talk of death exactly where we left it.
“You love it, my big scary devil,” she teases, using my unique brand of coming up with a new nickname for her on the spot against me.
In a split second she switches from the depths of despair, to playful and energetic, the small giggles in her voice bringing a smile to my face.
“You think you’re cute?” I tickle her ribs with my free hand, causing her to squirm until she manages to wrangle my fingers in between her thighs, keeping me in place as she squeezes her legs together.
“I know I am, and that’s why I know you’ll honor my wishes, ending our story in the most poetic way,” she says, releasing her grip and intertwining our fingers together, leaving gentle kisses on my knuckles.
“You’re lucky I love you, Principessina.”
And I do love her.
More than I ever thought was possible, so much so, that for one final time, I’d morph into the trained killer I was born to be and become the absolute worst version of myself.
I love Carter so fucking deeply that I’d kill her – in order to save her life.
It’s sick, twisted, and utterly insane, but it’s perfectly in tune with everything our relationship has been since the moment we met.
Blood, guts, and torture has been our love language, the way we’ve connected unlike anything this universe has ever seen, which is why I’m positive that she was created to be beside me in life – and death.