by Rina Kent
He was too scrawny, too small, and too weak. He was several years younger than me when he came in and all the other boys wanted to bloody his perfect porcelain skin and blue —or were they green— eyes.
He’s hiding his face, and I can’t exactly paint a picture of him. It’s been decades now.
Being small and pretty, he was adopted a few months after he arrived. Stepford housewives loved his type a bit too much. Perfect boy, perfect face, perfect grades.
And he was young, so he could’ve been molded to anything they wanted him to be.
As I stare at his small fingers, a memory hits me as if it happened yesterday.
* * *
Past
Rob stares at Joseph from across the playground as he throws a rock in the air then catches it.
I snarl at him from my position on the bench and the other boy makes a motion of cutting his throat before he disappears around the corner.
We’ll see who will cut the other’s throat. I’m going to smash his face in his lunch later.
Joseph, the source of all this unwanted attention, is oblivious to everything going on around him as he picks on the daisies scattered around us.
He’s hunched over, his white shorts clean and immaculate. His silky dark hair catches in the sun, making it appear blue.
Such a weak little boy.
Even his skin is too white, it bruises when I catch him by the arm.
“Jas, look!” He points his little fingers at the daisies, his mouth falling open in complete amazement.
“Stop playing with flowers like a girl,” I reprimand him as I watch our surroundings.
It’s because he’s too weak that everyone preys on him. I shouldn’t have tackled Rob that first day when he put Joseph’s head in the toilet, I should’ve just walked away. Maybe he would’ve become stronger if he wasn’t so sure I’d save him every time.
Ever since that day, Joseph has been following me like a shadow, and as a result, no one dares to touch him, knowing he’s under my protection.
He pouts, playing with the flower, but still not turning around. “I like it. I can tell if you love me or not.”
“How can you tell, genius?”
His tiny chuckle fills the air as he plucks one petal at a time. “Jasper loves me. Jasper loves me not. Jasper loves me. Jasper loves me not. Jasper loves me…” He trails off, a tremor in his voice.
“What is it?” I lean sideways to look at his flower, but he hides away. “Joseph?”
“It says you don’t love me.” He throws the flower to the ground. “I hate this game.”
I laugh and pick another flower for him. He can be cute sometimes.
Throwing the daisy at him, I say, “Try again.”
“What if it also says you don’t love me?”
“Then I’ll bring you all the flowers until you get the answer you want.”
* * *
Present
A small smile lifts my lips.
After Joseph left, my life somehow turned for the worst, until Lucio found me that night.
And Joseph can’t possibly be a coincidence. His age matches, too. He was around seven when I was twelve.
I pluck the picture from its frame and tuck it into my pocket.
No idea where Joseph is, but he better be far away or dead. If he’s Costa’s heir as I suspect, nothing will save him.
I protected him back then, but no one will protect him from me.
My little Petal has called me today.
The missed call stares back at me like some sort of a sign.
I haven’t seen her since the show with Lucio yesterday. Not directly, anyway.
I’ve watched her through the window as she hugged her fat cat and tried to sleep with him tucked beside her. Naturally, the cat escaped her clutches and glared at her from the door like she’d gone crazy.
Fucking cats.
She didn’t sleep well last night, tossing and turning until dawn.
I might have watched all night, sue me.
When she went to work, I travelled to the boarding school.
Now, I’m back and she’s nowhere in her apartment. She should’ve finished work by now. I know, because I take pictures of her calendar every week when I pick her up.
Obsession. Fucking google it.
I call her, but she doesn’t pick up. I try again and when it goes to voicemail, I grip the phone harder.
Considering how she was rattled by Lucio’s appearance; she could’ve had some sort of a girls’ night out. But that one is scheduled for next week, not this one.
Standing at my balcony, I dial Dinah. She picks up after two rings.
Loud music bursts through my ear before it slowly fades away. “Jasper?”
“Yeah, Dinah, how are you?”
“I’m awesome! A night without the kids for once.” She sounds drunk.
“That’s great. Is Georgina with you?”
“Yes! We’re having so much fun.”
I smile without humor. “Mind if I join you?”
“Absolutely not! The more the merrier.”
Half an hour later, I’m at the club. Loud music thumps from the speakers and sweaty bodies grind against each other. Neon blue lights are the only break in the darkness, and it’s enough for the party-goers.
I climb the stairs and stand at the middle of the balcony where I have a complete view of the club.
Dinah and a nurse are clinking glasses of some purple liquid at the bar and laughing so loud, I can almost hear them over the music.
My little Petal isn’t with them.
It takes me five seconds flat to find her. She’s like a magnet, I can always figure out her pattern and where she’s going next.
She’s on the dancefloor, wearing a short, tight dress that outlines her tits and her ass as it falls to a little above her knees.
Even from here, I can tell she’s wasted. Doesn’t she remember what happened the last time she did something like this?
Her hair covers her back as she rolls her hips to the music, fingers disappearing in her black strands as if she’s putting on some fucking erotic show.
Two guys dance close to her, one is a nurse and the other some technician I saw at the hospital. She appears oblivious to them, to the hunger in their fucking eyes as they devour her flushed cheeks, the slight opening of her mouth, and how her tits and ass stand out in that goddamn dress.
My feet are moving of their own volition down the stairs. My muscles strain and it takes everything in me not to retrieve my knife and carve up every fucker’s face who looked at her tonight.
When I’m within reach, my little Petal is still dancing, slightly swaying on her feet.
The male nurse who’s been dancing around her like bee to honey, reaches out and tucks a strand of hair behind her ear.
She giggles, fucking giggles, as she grabs his arm for balance.
A red mist fills my vision as I storm between them and slam my fist into his face.
14
Georgina
Jasper slams Bill against the wall while someone screams.
His eyes are darker than I've ever seen them, and he looks murderous. I search for the guards, who are almost here, but I'm worried they'll be too late.
"You never look at her again," Jas tells Bill calmly. "Never. Again."
"Dude, you're –" Bill speaks up, but before he can finish, Jasper slams his fist into the guy's nose. This time, I'm the one who screams, and Bill collapses on the ground while Jas buries his foot in his stomach.
The guards finally reach us, but when they make a grab for Jasper, he shrugs them off easily. His murderous attention is still on Bill. "If I catch you so much as looking in her direction again, I'm going to break more than your fucking nose."
Another guard appears and the three of them grab for Jas, but he punches one of them, knocking him out instantly. I stare open-mouthed as he grabs me by the waist, pulling me up.
"We're leaving, Petal."
I don't
have the strength to argue and I shoot a look at Dinah to let her know I'm okay. She nods, staring as Jas drags me out of the club through the back door, into an abandoned back alley.
The moment the cold air hits my senses, the music quiets down and the screaming in my mind gets louder and louder. I rip myself out of Jas' grip, and he growls out loud like an animal whose meal has been stolen.
"You're acting like a fucking caveman!" I scream. "How did you even find me, Jasper? Did you follow me?"
Uttering the words sends me into a tailspin. I realize I don't want to hear his answer, and I let out a sob, waving him off when he tries to reach for me.
"He was going to take advantage of you," Jas gets out through gritted teeth. "That guy is bad news."
"Well, you seem to be missing something," I hiss. "Whether or not I want to talk to him is my decision, not yours, you brute."
“Is that what you think?”
“That’s what it is.”
“How drunk are you?”
“That’s none of your business.”
We glare at one another and I run my hands through my hair. I'm trembling, and I'm fucking cold with my light coat and these unbearably uncomfortable heels showing off my legs.
"You don’t get to barge into my life and disappear as you wish, Jasper. Where were you? Who was the guy in front of my apartment? Why the hell was he looking for you?"
He shrugs off his leather jacket and putting it around my shoulders. I don't fight him. I need the warmth.
"He's my employer," Jas grits out. "I owe him."
"You owe him what?"
"My life." His voice is so firm and steady it makes me wonder just how true his statement is. It seems like he isn't lying. "I'm in debt to him – forever. His family saved my life."
"Okay. Care to elaborate on that?"
"No." His answer leaves no room for questions, making me sigh in frustration.
"You know what, Jas?" I raise my hands in defeat. "If that's the way you want it, fucking fine. Have it your way. Don't tell me anything. Just get the hell out of my life. I don't want these secrets and this bullshit bringing me down any more than it already has."
I’m so tired of waiting for him when it’s obviously going nowhere, and I hate myself for being glad that he came to find me. My moods are dangerously controlled by him, and I can’t have that anymore.
I turn around, but he grabs my hand, his hot skin enveloping my cold one, and I'm embarrassed because I hesitate before pulling away from him.
"You're not leaving me, Petal," Jas says.
"It’s not your decision to make.” I turn over my shoulder to look at him. "This could have been something life-changing, Jas. You just had to fuck it up."
I peel his jacket off my shoulders and give it back to him while he stares me down.
"You'll be cold," he mutters.
"I don't care." I turn around and start walking away from him, the sound of my heels on the concrete ringing in my head.
I feel hot tears burning my eyes before I even make it around the block. The sharp pain of Jasper's behavior sends me running down the street, trying to swallow down the sobs threatening to rip out of my chest.
I don't notice anything or anyone until I'm a block and a half away, still preoccupied with my own thoughts and sobs. But then I feel it – the creepy feeling of being watched, of a pair of eyes on the back of my neck.
I remember the open window. I remember the spider, the missing glass. And for the first time, I allow myself to wonder whether someone's... following me.
The mere idea is so disturbing I gulp. But what other explanation could there be – apart from me losing my damn mind?
After that realization, I keep glancing over my shoulder, the hairs sticking on the back of my neck. Aside from the shadows and the glow of the streetlights, there’s nothing. Swallowing the uneasy sensation, I continue making my way home.
When I'm at the front door, I fumble with my keys so much I drop them. I curse softly, bending down to pick them up. When I do, I finally see him – the dark figure standing in the corner.
He's wearing a leather jacket.
Something takes over me then. I'm not sure whether it's madness or foolishness or simply being drunk, but I storm in the direction of the man watching me, and when he breaks into a run, I do the same. He dodges a car and I follow suit, the driver honking at us angrily as they speed down the road.
"You!" I scream. "Wait!"
I expect him to continue running, to tire me and then disappear – which wouldn’t be so hard considering I’m drunk. However, he stops abruptly, making me skid to a sudden halt. He turns around and the face that greets me under the streetlight makes me laugh bitterly.
"What are you doing, Jasper?"
"Making sure you're fucking safe.” He sounds calm, unaffected as if this is an every day occurrence. "You should be saying thank you, Petal."
"You're following me.” All pieces fall into place and I gasp. “Have you been following me all along, making me paranoid in my own skin?”
Before he can say anything, I stomp back towards my building and let myself in, forcing myself on autopilot.
No, no. I don’t want to think about it. Not now.
As I'm about to slam the door closed, his footsteps come between us and he forces his way inside.
"Jas, stop it," I hiss, glancing down the hallway to make sure we're alone. "Someone's going to hear."
"Then you better get to your apartment and fast." He motions down the hallway. "Let's go, Pet."
I mutter something under my breath and start walking up the stairs, with him following close behind. I don't want to admit it, but I'm oddly comforted by Jas' presence even with the slight realization swimming in my head.
Once I'm at my door, I motion for him to go. "I'm fine now. Bye."
"I'm checking inside," he insists, pushing past me into my apartment.
"For what?" I groan, following him in. I take off my jacket and push a button on my speakers that reads out messages from my phone.
"Hey babe," Dinah's voice says on the answering machine. She doesn't sound like the Dinah I know at all. She sounds worried and upset. " I'm so sorry about tonight. Seeing Jasper act like that, God... I feel like I should come clean about something."
She sighs heavily and I rub my temples, preparing for whatever is to come.
"I know I'm the one who set you up with this Jasper guy," she rattles off. "But I'm going to be really honest... I don't know him that well at all."
I look at Jasper, fuming. "When were you planning on telling me this?"
"I don't know," he shrugs his jacket off. "Dinah didn't seem too worried."
"Well, she is now! I can't believe you, Jas. You totally ruined my day."
"You ruined mine too, so I guess we're even."
He plops down on the couch and I don't know whether to laugh or cry. He acts as if we're a couple already, like he lives with me or something.
I watch as Mr. Bingley jumps into Jas' lap. He groans as the cat settles down. At least the cats are warming to him – that's got to be a good sign, right?
I'm not going to let him get away with this, I decide as I pour myself a glass of ice-cold water and drink it down in long, thirsty gulps. Jas flicks on the TV and I come to stand in front of him, blocking his view.
"What is it, Pet?" he asks, never taking his eyes off the screen.
"I can't just ignore what you did tonight. You acted like a crazy person."
He doesn't reply, knitting his brows together and flicking through the channels before finally speaking up. "Fine. Maybe it wasn't my best moment."
I scoff and he shoots me a warning look. I guess it's as close to an apology as I'm going to get.
"I'll make it up to you," he goes on, eyes sparkling with mischief. "You have one question. Use it carefully. Ask me anything you want."
The words render me speechless, and I stare at him without a reply.
"Go on, Pet," he grunts. "I thought
you had so many things to say. Cat got your tongue now?"
I hiss, crossing my arms and staring him down without fear. You wanted to play this game, Jas. "Your employer. What’s his name?"
"Lucio. What about him?" Jasper folds his hands in his lap and looks back at me with a stone-cold expression.
"The jobs you do for h-him." I hate myself for stuttering, but I can't help it. This is completely out of my league. "Do t-they in-involve... hurting people?" Jasper's eyes darken even more, going from a cool icy blue to an inky, stormy sky.
"Tell me, Jas," I demand. "I deserve to know the truth."
He still doesn't answer and I sigh in frustration.
"Jasper, you're being totally unreasonable," I cry out. "You said one question, and you'd answer it, and –"
He interrupts me by getting up in a flash, pulling me on the couch and holding my body on his lap so I can't move. I can feel his heartbeat, steady and slow, a stark difference to the hammering of my own heart.
"Are you going to tell me?" I whisper as he turns the volume up on the TV.
“You don’t want to know.” He gathers me in his arms as he stands up and I have no choice but to wrap my legs around him as he strides into my bedroom and throws me over the mattress.
Then, he’s on top me, gripping my jaw. “The fun is over. Time for your punishment.”
15
Jasper
People usually have one strike with me. At the second, they’re out.
It’s fucking finished; their dreams, their lives, and everything in between.
My little Petal has just reached her second strike. The first was getting drunk and dancing with those asshole friends, the second was trying to chase me away.
As if that will ever happen.
My little Petal seems under the misconception that she has a fucking choice in the matter. She doesn’t.
She stares up at me with wide eyes as I pin her to her bed by her jaw. I can feel the pulse underneath my skin, heightening, quickening, as if her heart is about to explode out of its confinements.
It’s a shame for her heart to stop beating. If she needs one, I’ll just rip one out and give it to her all bloodied and even still throbbing.