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“I’m sorry,” I say when he pauses for a long time, the silence is deafening.
“Don’t be. He deserved to die. It was his time. He’d out-lived, and out-killed more than he deserved.”
A loud bang comes on the door. Jasper turns to pull it open but only halfway. He looks back to me and smiles. “Take him to my house.” Then he shuts the door again.
Turning around to face me, he slides his gun into the back of his pants. “I’m not going to lie, I loved my father. Even with all the bad things he did, I still loved him, as much as you’re trained to love someone, and in his own way I know he loved me, too. Love… it’s a fickle bitch, isn’t it? We kill those we love. I’ve killed two people I loved and I probably could have loved you, too, Isadora. Yet, now, it’s my turn to kill you. It seems like that’s what life wants from me… to kill those I love.”
His words shock me, they can’t be true.
He doesn’t care for me, does he?
I thought I was just another plaything to warm his bed.
It seems I’m mistaken.
Standing, I walk over, careful to not touch him, and when I’m in front of him I attempt to stand as tall as I can muster. “Why must you be the devil, it’s very unfair.”
Jasper touches a stray piece of my hair and pushes it behind my ear. “She smiled at me, did I tell you that? As I put the gun to her head, she smiled her beautiful smile. It was dazzling. I told her I loved her before I pulled the trigger. She told me she didn’t love me. It was bittersweet. Almost poetic. Now tell me, Isadora…” he holds the back of my neck in place as his lips come close and he whispers, “… how yours died.”
I say nothing, no words can escape my lips.
He knows.
He knows exactly who I am.
That means he also knows who killed my parents.
I start shaking my head back and forth, but he doesn’t let me go, keeping me firmly in place. “Jasper.” It’s a plea, for what I don’t know, but his name leaves my lips nonetheless.
“Do you think you could have loved me?” he asks as his lips brush mine.
I give him the answer he wants to hear. “No.” I say it with enough conviction that even I might believe it. He slams his lips onto mine and demands for me to open my mouth. I let him in, and kiss him passionately because I know this will be our last kiss, our last embrace. His hand moves and I feel something sharp at the base of my neck, I pull back as it pricks me, and notice there’s a needle in his hand.
“Don’t worry,” he whispers. “It’s not Hemlock, but it will make you pass out.”
My head becomes dizzy and before I can fall he catches me and picks me up bridal style. “You might just be my toughest kill yet, Isadora.”
I should have run when I had the chance, but I couldn’t, and now here I am in the arms of a man who wants to kill me, one who’s as complex as my feelings.
And that’s the last thing I remember before my eyes become too heavy and close.
17
Jasper
Her eyelashes are long, she makes soft sounds as she lays on my lap.
“Boss.” Ace turns around from the front seat, looks down at her and back to me. “Do you plan to kill her?”
I know he likes her. Let’s face it she’s easy to like. I run my fingers through her hair as we come to stop at the front of the mansion. I don’t use the damn mansion, I can’t. My men occupy it, every inch of it, except his room. That was the room where I took his life, and now it’s a testimonial to everything he was. I haven’t been in there since the day he died, but as I walk the stairs with Isadora in my arms I know that’s the place she needs to be.
“Boss, are you sure?” There’s no point answering him, I’ve made up my mind and once it’s made up it’s difficult to shift. That’s why I still haven’t decided if I plan to take her life, or to keep her locked away so I can see her and do to her anything I like at any time.
“The uncle’s making noise,” Carter says rounding the corner.
“Let him.” I chuckle. “It’s going to be fun to watch that bastard squirm.”
Isadora starts moving in my arms as Carter opens the door to that room. With her in my arms I kick the door shut behind me, so it’s just us.
The sheets have been changed, but the room remains the same. It’s like he’s downstairs and I’m sneaking into his room to do something completely disobedient—like I am a child again. Walking to the bed, I lay her on the thick mattress. She turns over, rolls into a ball and snores softly. Getting up, I take off my shirt and reach for the ties I know are still in the drawer. Taking one hand at a time, I fasten her to the bed, so her arms are spread and her face looks upward. She starts to stir, when I knot the tie around her feet. She’s now tied and bound like a starfish.
