45. Jasper
FORTY-FIVE
JASPER
Thank the holy pits of Hell for Tyson.
Without him, I’d never get to see my little Angel of Death in such pretty fucking predicaments.
The one she’s currently in has her pinned to a metal table, Tyson’s cock lodged down her throat while her body is covered in a mixture of blood and hot wax, with my cock desperately waiting to be in between her thighs.
If I could, I’d live in this exact position, worshiping her like a man devoted to his religion, all while her screams deliver my salvation.
“Oh my god! Please, Jasper!” Carter begs, tangling her hands in my hair, forcing me closer toward her soaked pussy, the wax propelling her into overdrive as she grinds against my thighs for any source of friction, like a perfectly needy little mess.
Just as she whimpers from my tip teasing around her entrance, Tyson resumes his reckoning, shoving his cock past her lips, effectively gagging her as I push through her tight channel, the two of us pumping into her like desperate men.
Our thrusts cause the table legs to screech against the floor, but I pay no mind to that, only focusing on Carter’s rolled back eyes, and the clues her body language leaves us, her heaving chest a tell-tale sign that she’s already close.
Together, we work in unison to work her up, my thrusts becoming reckless as I bottom out, but watching her struggle around Tyson has me on the edge of oblivion, my hand dropping to her clit as I attempt to drag her down with us.
Within seconds, her muffled screams echo around the metal room as Tyson pumps into her mouth, ravaging her throat with reckless abandon, and I lose my restraint as she struggles around him.
Like a tandem bike, he tenses up, shooting his load down her throat, while she squirts all over my cock, soaking us both with her release, and in turn, I lose myself the second her muscles tense.
We’re a perfect unit, operating in complete succession of one another, and within seconds, we’re all over the edge, a heap of bodies tangled as one while we suck in oxygen to regulate our breathing.
“Absolutely perfect, baby girl,” Tyson praises, cupping her cheek as he slowly lifts her head, the redness draining from her face as she regains her ability to take a deep breath.
“I will never get tired of that, my little super soaker,” I chime in, trailing my way up her body and leaving tender kisses along each and every spot the bloody wax stained her precious skin.
“Jesus Christ, that was … exhilarating,” she breathes, her heavy eyes meeting mine as a yawn steals her breath, proving just how much we put her through.
“Come on, Carter. Let’s get you home,” Tyson says, ripping the t-shirt off his body and covering hers as he scoops her into his arms effortlessly.
Her head rests on his shoulder, but her hands reach for mine, the three of us always intertwined, especially after moments like these.
“Wait, we need to deal with him,” she interjects, popping her head back up to find my gaze, and without a single word, I know exactly what she wants me to do.
The blowtorch Tyson used to light the candles sits on the table, just begging to be played with one last time, and like a sign straight from Satan, a can of gas is perched on the shelves hanging from the wall.
“Jasper, light him up,” Carter smirks, another devilish grin forming on her face, a look of hers that I’ll never get tired of seeing.
“Your wish is my command, Principessina.” I dump gasoline all over the dead body, soaking the corpse to ensure it goes up like an inferno.
With one flick of the torch, a burst of blues and oranges ignite from the tip, and just as the flames begin to lick his rotting flesh, I meet Carter’s gaze once more, her eyes alight with satisfaction as I burn her abuser, reducing the body that once hurt her to dust.
“Beautiful,” she breathes, marveling at the sight as the fire roars to a smoldering blaze, the smell of burning flesh and ash filling the air, ricocheting off the metal walls.
“Let’s get you to bed, baby girl,” Tyson whispers, her eyes fluttering shut as she cocoons into his chest once more, officially closing this chapter of her life.
There’s one more name at the top of our list, underlined in red with extra emphasis on the urgency of his capture, but after playing with my girl all night, we need to rest before we step onto the battlefield against our greatest adversary.
Today is finally the day.
After thousands of miles traveled, plans concocted in the dead of night, and a heavy dose of confidence, we’re finishing Carter’s journey with the murder of her father.
Of course, her heart is heavy, and she’s been silent since we left the hotel, but deep down, we know that this is for the best, the only way we can guarantee our freedom.
The rest of our lives begins the second the Don inhales his final breath, but first, we have to intercept him, stopping his car before he reaches the wedding venue.
Of course, we turned the groom into a pile of ash, but none of the guests know that yet, and this sham of a ceremony is still on.
Right about now, they’re expecting Carter for hair and makeup, maybe even gearing up to fit her dress one last time, but before the clock spins to mark the beginning of a new hour, we’ll be too busy with death to even remember the arranged marriage, recalling crimes that have cut much deeper than selling Carter off to the highest bidder.
“We’re three miles away, Carter, are you ready for this?” Tyson asks from the driver’s seat, the control freak that operates within his mind taking the reins for this mission.
I’m content letting him lead us in the capture portion of this operation, my certain set of skills much more useful once we actually have our hostage, and my hands are itching to get ahold of the prey that’ll likely outshine every single man I’ve ever killed.
“It’s him or us,” Carter recites, her robotic tone of voice alarming, but I know that she’s switching her mindset, finding a place to comfortably reside inside of her consciousness amidst the horrendous act of family betrayal she’s about to commit.
“You don’t have to do this alone, Carter. Remember, we’re right here,” I remind her, but she shrugs me off with a simple head shake, not interested in any semblance of tenderness.
“I’ve got this. You better remember your promise, Jasper.” She spins around to the backseat, making eye contact, but her pupils are fully blacked out, the baby blue nowhere in sight as she transitions into the cold-blooded version of the girl I love.
“Hey, that’s the last option, right? The plan z, the failsafe, the ripcord on the parachute …
not even close to my first option if he lands a finger on you,” I say sternly, making sure that those pesky suicidal thoughts are completely banished, and holding onto the hope that since we rescued her, we’ve restored her desire to live.
“I fantasized about my death for months … I thought about what it’d be like to inhale my final breaths, wondering if I’d see the two of you in the ending montage of my life, and I’m just so thankful that as we approach what could be our last day, you’re both here with me.
If we die tonight, I’ll happily die yours.
” She swipes at the tears forming on her lash line, shaking her head as more stream down her cheeks, but I don’t argue with her, knowing that she’s put herself into a mentality where murdering her father is okay – even if we die too.
It takes a lot to truly get into that place, to create a plan that includes the execution of your own flesh and blood, but Carter’s a different monster than me, solely because she’s about to live this scenario out in real time, whereas mine was always just a fantasy.
“I’ll die yours, Principessina,” I say, lacing my fingers through hers, kissing the tops of her knuckles as she sighs in relief, finally understanding that I have no plans to stray from the most important promise I’ve ever made.
“I’ll die yours, baby girl,” Tyson repeats, making this moment another one of our twisted vows, but in true fashion, Carter just laughs, a smirk crossing her lips as all our gazes meet in the middle.
“How far, Tyson?” Carter asks, immediately switching back into the fearless warrior that she is, ending the sentimental conversation exactly where she wants it to lay.
Thanks to Tyson, we were able to hack the GPS of the Don’s car, and when it left the Villas, we were on the road less than two minutes later, taking a route that runs parallel to his vehicle in order to stay out of sight, and pinpoint the exact moment we’ll cross the perpendicular line, crashing straight into him.
We’re bringing this fight to the desert, nothing but cactuses and tumbleweeds for miles, but with Tyson’s ability to create fake detours, we’re able to control the battlefield, ensuring that when we hit the Don, we won’t be missing.
There are a few factors that we’ve accounted for as well, like the amount of men he travels with, and a secondary car with Carter’s uncle following half a mile behind, but by the time we’re through, her bloodline will be nothing but a puddle in the desert sand.
“Half a mile. Buckle up,” he says, stepping on the gas as the highway begins to blur, the beige scenery becoming nothing but a flash of monotone color as we bang a quick right onto the connector road.
In a split second, the parallel highway comes into view, and like clockwork, a black SUV blows past, and Tyson doesn’t skip a beat, cranking the wheel and flooring it until we’re riding their bumper.
Our pickup truck is straight off the lot, a brand new model from one of Carter’s relatives’ legitimate businesses, and she was able to sweet-talk him into a steep discount, playing it off as if it were a wedding present for her fake husband, and he barely blinked, giving in to her charm instantly.
She marketed it as a complete surprise, ensuring that after the reception, it’d be their ‘just married’ car, and conning the poor man into a state of silence, keeping our presence in California quiet so as to not tip off her father.
“Here we go!” Tyson yells over the roar of the motor, crashing into their rear end with force, jerking all of our heads forward at the impact, but he remains in control, steering the wheel with precision as he smashes into the car repeatedly.
Finally, the SUV veers to the right a little too hard, the passenger side tires making contact with the sand and instantly losing control as they barrel through the desert at a high rate of speed, kicking up a cloud of dust in their wake.
“Don’t stop now, Tyson! Go!” Carter screams, hanging onto the grab handle as the truck switches into four-wheel drive, our traction becoming much better as the wheels grip the sand with ease.
Carter’s eyes never leave her father’s SUV as it loses control, swerving every which way before finally crash-landing on its side, smoke erupting from the engine as Tyson releases the gas pedal, our vehicle slowly coming to a stop next to our target.
“Go!” Tyson screams, and without a second thought, I jump out of the massive pickup truck with Carter on my heels, our footsteps kicking up a dust cloud as I land on solid ground.
The air is hazy from the ruckus, nature clearly pissed off that we’ve disturbed the sand dunes that can usually be seen for miles, but the three of us push through, tools at the ready to capture any survivors.
Tyson’s surveillance suggests that there are six bodies in this car – four guards, a driver, and Mr. Cassini – but with each man dressed for a black tie wedding, they all look the same as they groan and whine while climbing from the destroyed vehicle.
“My father. Where is he?” Carter asks, pointing the gun at a security guard that’s staggering from the passenger’s side, and his steps come to a screeching halt as he recognizes her voice.
“He’s in the follow car, Miss Cassini,” he says, and she turns to face me, spinning on her heel so fast I’m afraid she’s going to twirl away, her jaw dropping the second her eyes meet mine.
“What is it, Principessina?” I ask, but she stays silent, her gaze wandering to the open road as she turns in every direction, almost like she’s searching for clues.
“I’m missing something, and for the life of me, I cannot figure out what it is. This feels like some kind of elaborate ruse,” Carter chokes out, a terrified look on her face that I’ve never seen, but with her father on the loose, we all have a newfound sense of fear nestled in our bones.
“Ty! What do we have?” I call out, his alarming lack of updates beginning to send me into a fit of paranoia, but I forge on, not letting either of them down in the height of our mission.
Carter’s ominous words are ringing in my head, and even though this ambush didn’t go exactly how we wanted, I refuse to give up hope after everything we’ve done to get here.
After a detailed escape that crossed countries, a negotiation that tested our faith, and a quick run-in with a few hired goons, I have to believe that we’ve finally got the Don exactly where we want him.