27. Jasper
TWENTY-SEVEN
JASPER
After forty-eight hours of domestic bliss, we’re on the road once more, heading East through the mountains of Canada.
It’s peaceful here, barely any other cars on the road, which may be the reason that the air doesn’t feel so thick anymore, like it did in the States.
If a car is tailing us, it wouldn’t take long to notice, but so far, we’ve been eating up the miles with more animals in sight than humans.
As much as we fought back, Carter demanded to drive until she was blue in the face, threatening to fall into a state of celibacy if we didn’t let her take the wheel for a few hours.
Freedom is important to her after such a terrible imprisonment, and although I understand her need to feel free, it doesn’t make my stomach any less queasy as we cross over another set of rumble strips.
“Jesus Carter. Wheel straight, gas on the right, brakes on the left, didn’t anyone teach you that before awarding you a license?” I joke, but she only shoots daggers in my direction, her focus strictly on the road.
“It wasn’t me, the car has a mind of its own, okay? Stop clutching your pearls every time I slightly shift my fingers,” she snarks, following the directions as we take a right turn down another winding road.
“Next time, you’re driving on a straight highway, with no risk of running us off the edge of a mountain,” I affirm, but she only flips me the middle finger, stepping on the brakes and taking the turns slowly.
“Leave her alone, Massi. You’re no better, fucking speed demon from hell,” Tyson mutters from the backseat, his laptop sprawled along his lap, erasing our trail from any security cameras we may have passed.
“Aww, Ty. You say the sweetest things.” I reach my hand out to his, but he swats me away, laser focused on his mission, leaving me alone in having even a smidge of fun.
He’s kept the next phase of our plans to himself, only giving Carter access to an address, but this version of him that’s been tight-lipped is beginning to drive me insane.
Leaving us in the dark is one thing, but it’s not just Carter’s life at stake here, and although I’m usually content flying by the seat of my pants, a little certainty would go a long way in how I’m able to stay calm, or protect her if necessary.
After a few minutes of deafening silence, with nothing but trees to stare at, Carter clears her throat, her hands shaking as she snaps her fingers in my direction.
The second I turn to face her, she glances in the rearview mirror, not speaking a word, but I immediately follow her gaze, noticing what has her on edge.
With Carter and I, sometimes eye contact is enough to convey a message, like we live in each other’s minds, and in this moment, our superpower lands us exactly on the same page.
“Ty, we have company,” I say, noting the black SUV gaining on us, even as Carter steps on the gas down a straightaway.
“What do you want me to do? This little teacup car isn’t going to hold up against that tank!” She shouts, her knuckles going white with how hard she’s gripping the steering wheel.
“We need to switch places,” I offer, but am met with immediate resistance in the form of a head shake, eye roll, and scoff.
“Yeah, Jasper, let me see if whoever is chasing us is alright waiting while we switch seats. I’ll pull over, flip the hazards on, and maybe they won’t shoot me in the fucking forehead!
” Each word that leaves her lips is dripping sarcasm, and I’d be tempted to laugh – or bend her over Tyson’s knee – if we weren’t driving a getaway car with our fates hanging in the balance.
“Enough! Arguing isn’t going to help. Carter, lower the backrest as far as it’ll go,” Tyson commands, his booming voice instantly restoring order as she complies without hesitation.
“Massi, grab the wheel. On the count of three, Carter, you’re going to scoot back and let him jump into the driver’s seat.”
“I don’t know, Tyson. If I let off the gas they’ll close the gap!” She screams, and I don’t miss the terror in her voice, all those scenarios of capture crashing into the front of her mind.
“Hey, my little Ice Princess. You’ve got this, okay? Love is stronger than fear, and we’re facing what scares us,” I tell her, repeating words that we exchanged in the darkness, and vowed to hold onto as we heal the things we’re afraid of.
“Okay, Jasper. Go ahead, take the wheel,” she says, lifting her shaky hands and waiting for Tyson’s count.
“One.”
Slowly, she pushes up until her feet land on the seat, leaving us with no control over the speed.
“Two.”
Crouching my body in this tiny car, I get into the same position, ready to jump over the middle console.
“Three.”
The second Tyson’s arms snatch Carter off the seat, I throw myself into her spot, reclaiming control of the wheel, and pounding my foot into the gas pedal until it hits the floor, the car roaring into gear as I navigate the windy road.
“Holy fucking shit. We’re alive,” Carter breathes from the backseat, her body safely cocooned into Tyson’s chest.
One quick glance in the rearview proves that while we put a little distance between us and the SUV, they know we’re onto them, and are actively chasing us down.
It could be her father, his men, or a completely new threat we didn’t anticipate, but no matter who wants us, they’ll have to go through Tyson and I before they lay a single finger on Carter’s head.
She belongs with us.
“Hold on, Principessina,” I warn, cutting across the double yellow line, swerving around a minivan that’s barely doing the speed limit, passing them with ease and banging a quick left turn, hoping the sudden movements cause the SUV to make a mistake.
After a few beats, Tyson checks behind us, being the eyes in the back of my head while I keep my focus straight ahead, looking for any cuts we can take to lose the tail.
“Three out,” Tyson informs calmly, and with this not being our first rodeo, his communication is key to surviving.
“Let me guess, you’ve done this before?” Carter asks, laughing from the back as she digs under the passenger seat, pulling out the bag of handguns Ty stashed.
“Let’s hold off, at least until we know what we’re dealing with?” He bargains, not wanting to start a firefight without knowing what power they have.
“It might be too late if they run us into a ditch,” Carter argues, the sound of her loading the gun eating up the silence between them.
Just as she opens her mouth again, I see the flash of a muzzle from the side mirror, and like Carter suspected, it’s already too late.
“Get down!” I yell over the sound of the gunshot, a lone bullet hitting the rear bumper, but if they fight like I do, they’re aiming for the back tire.
“Jasper, do something! We’re fucking target practice!” Carter screams, and even with Tyson’s efforts to calm her down, she’s letting the anger take over, making it impossible to get through her stubborn, blood-thirsty head.
As they swap battle plans, a bright blue sign appears on the road, signaling a scenic pull-off in the distance, and an idea forms, but rather than bring my thoughts to the group, I act on instinct.
This is the kind of scenario I was bred to thrive in, the urge to kill those who want to harm us, combined with my elite survival skills, trump any plans of operating on a defensive scale.
In a split second I pull off the road, the only thing between us and tumbling down the mountain being a thin, wooden guard rail, but I stop inches from it, effectively using the car as a shield.
With no warning, the SUV breezes right by us, but my victory doesn’t last long, the brake lights immediately lighting up, signaling that they aren’t letting this rest.
“Everyone out!” I order, hushing the squabbling and reaching behind the seat for the only automatic weapon we possess.
Between the three of us, I’m the best shot, so I perch the weapon on the hood of the car, knowing we only have seconds before the SUV spins back around.
Tyson and Carter take their place on each side of me, Carter more protected by the car, while Tyson opts to take the position by the trunk.
Breathe. Squeeze. Kill.
In my head, I repeat the mantra ingrained in me since I could hold a gun, and within a few seconds, the headlights illuminate our stronghold, the firefight showing up right on cue.
With my brother beside me, I’m always confident in our ability to clear a battlefield, but that bravado only increases knowing that I have California's best sharpshooter to the left of me.
Carter is the missing piece to our duo, and even though the promises we made ring loudly in the back of my head, I’d bet on the three of us to win, every fucking time.