13. Scarlett
THIRTEEN
SCARLETT
"Xavier Poine from the Metropolitan paper.
" A man with the lightest blond hair and palest skin I've ever seen steps forward, pushing past some of the reporters I'm familiar with.
His deep voice slides over my skin like rich velvet, making the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end.
My gaze travels over his tall frame, sliding down his broad shoulders encased in a dark gray, short-sleeved, button-down that does nothing to hide the works of art tattooed along his arms. I meet his unnatural gray-blue gaze without flinching, and observe the corner of his lips tilting upwards, as if in satisfaction at garnering my attention.
Instantly, another unsettling feeling of deja vu creeps through me, and I have to work harder to focus on his words.
"I'm questioning whether one or both of you should be fired, and replaced with more competent agents, for your failure to catch this psycho.
There have been nine bodies, and you seem no further than you were with the first one.
" Well, fuck, tell me what you really think, prick.
His words douse me in frigidity, and at first, only silence fills the space around us, as if the crowd is afraid to break the thread of tension weaving between us.
I can feel the rage vibrating off of Jasper like a thick, black cloud.
His jaw tightens, and I sense he's struggling to keep control, which makes my stomach tighten with anxiety.
At any moment, he's going to lose it, and do something reckless that could jeopardize both our careers.
I can't allow that to happen. I want my promotion, but not at the cost of Jasper's temper spiralling out of control.
I step forward, shielding his much larger body behind me, as I narrow my glance at Xavier, and pin him with a cold, stern look of dismissal.
"His escalations have no bearing on our police work, Mr. Poine.
We've worked every crime scene correctly, within the bounds of the law, and used all the evidence to not only profile him, but to try to catch him. "
He no longer attempts to hide his amusement behind a professional facade, and I instantly see his bias; it bleeds through his pores.
This guy is out to make us look like villains.
A slow, knowing smirk spreads across his handsome face, fueling my suspicion.
"That's the problem, isn't it, Agent Lyssa?
You're still trying to profile him, still trying to catch him.
" He takes a step closer, until his waist is pressed against the yellow police tape that separates us.
"You're no closer to actually getting him off the streets and behind bars.
You've failed so far, and that will tarnish your perfect record, won't it? "
It's as if he's slapped me. I stumble back a step before I have to remind myself to remain still, and not let this asshole rattle me.
Something about him seems so familiar, even the expression he's wearing, which is a mixture of malice and flirtation, doesn't feel foreign.
I'm positive I've never seen him at any of our press releases, but maybe somewhere online?
Why does he feel like a threat I should recognize?
I'm about to respond to his accusation, when Jasper shifts his large body so that he practically blankets me from Xavier's glance. "That's enough. This is an active investigation, and we have nothing new to add."
His tone is final as he grabs onto my wrist, his long fingers biting painfully into my sensitive flesh.
When I flinch in his grasp, he loosens his grip, but doesn't release me, dragging me away from the crowd as a sense of mortification fills me.
What the fuck is he doing? This is some caveman bullshit!
The only thing holding me back from kneeing him in the balls is the awareness of where we are, and how many eyes are watching.
I'm betting he's counting on that, too, or he would have never pulled something like this.
His furious gaze meets mine, and anything I was about to utter in protest gets choked in my throat.
Holy shit, he's beyond livid. His high-whiskered cheekbones are tinged pink, and his sapphire eyes are murderous.
There's a blazing energy flowing through his large frame, and it's not having the desired effect he wishes for on me.
I'm not frightened of him, no, instead, my panties are damp, and my nipples are sharp pebbles behind the cups of my bra.
"Get in the fucking car, Scarlett, we need to chat," Jasper growls as he shoves me towards the passenger side of his vehicle.
My neck cranes to get another glance at Xavier Poine.
His light eyes have followed me, and he stares calmly back at me as if he can sense my unease.
He didn't back down at my words, or Jasper's anger.
Who is this man who has willingly put himself in our path?
The car door opens, and Jasper stares down at me with impatience. "You can put yourself in the vehicle, or I can do it for you, Scarlett. Either way, you're leaving here with me. You decide how you want this to play out."
He leans forward, his warm breath brushing against my ear and causing me to tremble.
"You've been a naughty girl, little vixen.
You're keeping secrets from me." Our eyes lock, dark blue biting into brown, neither of us willing to back down.
"Test me, Scarlett, I fucking dare you. I'll have you bent over the hood of my car, receiving the fucking spanking you deserve, for trying to play with me and my career, regardless of who's watching. "
"You wouldn't dare," I bite back, finally regaining some of my backbone.
My mind is reeling with his threats, and the fact that he's called me 'little vixen'.
Jasper has never behaved aggressively toward me before.
Yes, he's flirted, and sometimes been a downright cunt, but never threatening.
What the hell has changed? It can't just be a matter of that guy Xavier rattling him.
We get reporters questioning our work ethic and abilities all the time.
He raises a dark brow, his lips widening to show me a glimpse of his straight, white teeth.
"I assure you, Scarlett, I would like nothing better than to teach you a lesson.
One you're not likely to forget, about lying or crossing me.
" I hold out for another moment, capturing his gaze, before slipping inside the car.
He instantly slams the door, and makes his way to the driver's side, and we are peeling out of the crime scene before I can gather my thoughts properly.
"Have you lost your goddamn mind?" I question.
The anger that was just under the surface breaking through, as I evaluate how that scene looked to all the bystanders, and to our team watching.
He's made me look weak, like I needed saving from a few harsh words.
I force myself to take a few deep, calming breaths, so I don't pummel him while he's driving at breakneck speed through the wet streets.
"Might have," he mutters under his breath, but I catch it. He keeps his eyes trained on the road and breathes normally, but the tic in his jaw, and the grip he has on the steering wheel, give him away.
"What lies?" I turn fully in my seat to glare at him, refusing to be meek.
He quickly glances at me before looking away.
"You said that I was keeping secrets and lying to you.
" Annoying silence greets my questions. Now he's giving me the silent treatment after acting like an irrational, jealous buffoon?
Wait. What would he even have to be jealous about, and where did that thought come from?
"Pull over, Jasper. I've had enough of this shit." Instead of slowing down, the maniac increases his speed, taking corners like he's an F1 driver on a circuit, and the automatic door locks engage. "JASPER! WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING?"
I quickly reach for my phone out of my pants, and before I can bring the damn thing to my ear, he's grabbed it out of my hand and thrown it into the back seat.
"Naw, little vixen, you don't get to run away from this.
We have things to discuss, and for once in your fucking life, Scarlett, you're going to do as you're told! "
I'm taken aback by his behavior, but my training and survival instincts kick in, and I quickly release the seatbelt, preparing myself to have to knock him out and take control of the car.
Just as I reach across, he takes a corner wide, slams on the brakes, and has us skidding into an abandoned, rundown lot.
He releases his seatbelt, forces the car into park, and is across the center divide, his hand wrapped viciously around my throat, pinning me to the window, before I can even get the gun I discreetly released from my holster properly in my grip.
"Tell me who Ashmaker is, Scarlett, and don't fucking lie to me."