Take

by Nashoda Rose

  When I came back outside dressed in my clothes, I didn’t even look at him as I threw my leg over the back of the bike. This time, I wasn’t going to hold onto him no matter how fast he went or how sharp he took the corners. I’d rather become road kill. I grabbed the sissy bar behind me and Jasper didn’t say anything as he took off.

  Thirty minutes later, we pulled into a cute roadside restaurant, venta, with large bay windows and orange stucco walls. It was called Medina’s and it was packed.

  We found a booth and I noticed Jasper scan the place as if he was expecting one of the customers to pull out a gun and start shooting. Jasper ordered two black coffees, churros, sweet rolls and rye toast with butter. I was more of a coffee and toast breakfast person, but suddenly, I was starving with the smell of sweet pastries wafting around me.

  The waitress brought over the carafe and poured us each coffee. I noticed she poured Jasper’s slower while her eyes kept flickering up from beneath her mascara-caked lashes to look at him. The girl was cute, with a short brunette bob and bright blue eyes. She also looked young, not that it would matter to Jasper.

  I grasped my coffee and curled my hands around the mug. “Who is paying you to protect me?”

  Jasper ignored the girl who was desperately trying to get his attention by leaning over the table and placing napkins near the opposite end of the table. I rolled my eyes and blurted. “Thanks. We’re good now.” The waitress straightened abruptly, looked at me briefly and walked away.

  “Adrian.”

  “Is he a Scar?”

  “Yep.” He lifted his coffee and I watched his lips curl around the edge of the mug then his Adam’s apple move up and down as he swallowed.

  “Why does he care if I live?”

  He hesitated then said, “He doesn’t exactly.”

  “What does that mean? Why would he hire you to protect me then? And I don’t understand why Xamien wouldn’t.”

  Jasper set his coffee down, stretched his legs out to the side and crossed his ankles. “A lot of questions for a chick who doesn’t like to talk.”

  I hated talking. Worse was talking and asking questions to a guy who was being cagey. It was like prying open the mouth of an alligator. Then sticking your head inside and waiting for it to snap closed on the answer you didn’t want to hear. “Why are you being evasive?”

  “Not my job to give you answers, babe.”

  Fine, he didn’t want to give answers then I was leaving. Well, not really as I had nowhere to go and no vehicle, but I wanted answers and Jasper had them—or at least a few. I was halfway to my feet, when Jasper’s hand shot out and grabbed my arm.

  “Sit. Now.”

  I didn’t.

  His grip tightened. “Not playing here. We cause a scene—and babe, I will cause a fuckin’ scene if that’s what it takes to stop you from walking out—then whoever is after you will have a lead on which way we’re traveling.” He nodded to the patrons. “You think these people won’t talk about the guy and the girl who caused a disturbance at Medina’s?”

  The clatter of plates plopped down on the table. “Need anything else, sexy?” The waitress asked, ignoring me standing there.

  Jasper was still staring at me waiting for my response and didn’t acknowledge the waitress. “You going to sit?”

  “You going to give me something?”

  His jaw clenched and then he let me go, leaned back and half-grinned. “Sure. I’ll give you something.”

  I glared. “Jasper.”

  “Fine. Sit down.”

  The waitress looked between us. “Is there a problem?”

  I sat and quirked a half-smile and so did he. He reached for a napkin. “We’re good, thanks,” he said to the waitress without looking at her and she walked away. “Eat up, sunshine, and I’ll tell you what I know.”

  I gestured to the all the food he ordered. “I’ll become a hippo if I eat all that.” I wasn’t afraid to eat, but the amount of sugar on the plates in front of me was like slapping a tub of lard onto my butt.

  “Angels can’t be hippos. Won’t happen.”

  I couldn’t keep back the twitch at the corners of my mouth. “Why not?”

  “’Cause a hippo is a mean fucker. Angels aren’t. And I’ve decided you’re an angel. With issues of course. You know the ones, stuck on earth in limbo because they shot some guy in the thigh.”

  This time I couldn’t control the smile as I shook my head. “That’s ridiculous.”

  He chuckled and a rare bubble of laughter rose in my chest. He chin-lifted to the plate. “Eat. Don’t know when we’ll be stopping again.” He took a bite of a sweet roll and powdery sugar sprinkled onto his plate.

  I wrapped my hands around my coffee mug and lifted it before blowing a stream of air on it then took a sip. When I went to put it back down, Jasper’s eyes were on me. He quickly looked away and it was the first time I thought he looked uncomfortable. It was surprising and even more surprising that I liked his eyes on me. I liked him watching me as if . . . as if I was more than a job. More than a woman he wanted to fuck.

  After a few minutes, he started talking, keeping his voice low, although there was no one at the booth next to us now. “Adrian runs a . . . quiet organization.”

  “Secret?”

  He nodded. “It’s for jobs that are . . . different.”

  “So, he breaks the Scars’ laws?”

  Jasper bit into a piece of toast then tossed it down on the plate and leaned back against the green plastic backrest. “More like looks after situations he doesn’t feel should be brought to the Deaconry. That should be dealt with internally.”

  I’d been taught by my Talde about our history and knew how we lived by an oath to the Goddess who created us to uphold the laws. By the sounds of it, this Adrian guy and his organization was finding a way around them. “But how did he know someone was after me? And if you and Xamien didn’t tell anyone I’m a Healer, then how does anyone else know?”

  “Don’t know that. Adrian has connections, lots of them, and he knows shit is going down before anyone else. My guess . . . that is how he heard that someone was looking for you.”

  “And you don’t know who or why?”

  “No, I don’t know who. All I was told was he was a Scar and can Trace.”

  A wave of fear went over me as I thought of Drake. No. It couldn’t be. How could he find me? Why now? It couldn’t be him. His lungs required healing and he wouldn’t have survived all these years, and if he did, he’d be weak and wouldn’t be able to Trace. He needed healing in order to use that ability.

  He met my eyes, unwavering, dark and swirling. He took a sip of his coffee as the waitress came over, cleared away our plates and placed a bill on the table. The girl hesitated at the table, and Jasper for the first time looked at her and then grinned. The girl blushed and I scrunched up my nose with disgust. Jasper saw it and it was that deep graveled laugh that had my stomach flip-flopping.

  I waited until she moved way before I asked, “Does Xamien know about Adrian?”

  “Nope.”

  “Waleron?” His mother was one of the original Scars from Zugarramurdi and from the one time I met him . . . Waleron was powerful.

  “Waleron knows pretty much everything.”

  “So, Adrian must have a lot of money.” Because I was betting Jasper didn’t come cheap.

  “Adrian keeps his business, his business, and I’ve never really given a shit why or how.”

  “And you take jobs from this guy?” I couldn’t understand why Jasper would do this. Why he’d take jobs from a man he didn’t really know anything about.

  “Yeah, babe. I do. That’s who I am.” His voice hardened and he abruptly took out his wallet and threw down some money. He was silent and his brows lowered with a slight twitch in his jaw. “And my life and what I do is none of your business.”

  I shoved my mug aside and asked the question I was afraid to hear the answer to, but had to know how far Jasper would go. “Would you take mo
ney from whoever offered you the most?”

  He stiffened and his eyes narrowed and darkened. “Probably.”

  “So if this guy who is after me offered you a lot of money to give me to him, would you?”

  “Jesus, Max.” He got up so brusquely, my mug toppled over as the table moved and the remnants of coffee spilled onto the table. Then he spat, “Yeah, I would. Is that what you want to hear? That what you’ve heard about me? Don’t worry, sunshine, he could never match what Adrian is giving me.”

  I should’ve expected that answer. I did expect that answer, but for some reason, I’d expected more from Jasper. I thought when he’d touched my arm, softened his voice, and the grey in his eyes warmed, that there was good in Jasper.

  Apparently, I was wrong.

  “Let’s go.” He snagged my hand and before I could take my napkin off my lap, he had me up and walking out of the restaurant.

  WE RODE UNTIL DUSK, ONLY stopping twice for washroom breaks and a snack. I never said anything and neither did he. I kept my hands off him while we rode and he kept his speed reasonable.

  He turned down a long, narrow driveway and then cut the engine in front of a cute Spanish-style house with a wraparound porch. I slid off and briefly looked around, noticing the beautiful red carnations and bluebells at the side of the house.

  My pulse slowly rose as I admired them. Wildflowers had a fragile beauty about them with incredible resilience to withstand the test of nature. Their stems swaying and bending to the harsh winds and rain, yet if they were strong enough, they’d stand tall again when the sun’s rays shone down on them.

  And yet . . .

  When people easily snipped their stems, each day the flower’s life slowly faded.

  That was what had been done to me when Drake took me. Cut from my stem—my home. Taken from my element, and each day I dried up until I had nothing left.

  A stem of who I’d once been. Who I was supposed to grow into.

  Xamien may have saved the shell of me, but I’d never be the same. And now Jasper . . . he was the violent storm, trying to unearth me and I was holding on with both hands and fighting back. I couldn’t let go. I had to stay hidden for my own survival as well as for the safety of others. Already I’d lost my mother and Talde because of who I was.

  My breath hitched as his hands settled on my hips, his chest up against my back.

  My pulse spiked.

  I clamped my teeth. Pursed my lips. I went to elbow him in the gut when his hands tightened and his low voice drizzled into my ear like a distant muffled roar of thunder. “Be nice, sunshine.”

  Oh, he had no idea how nice I’d been to him.

  I heard the bang of a screen door and looked up at the house. A woman, who looked to be about thirty, stopped on the top step of the porch, and then shielded her eyes with her hand. A brilliant smile surfaced and a dignified squeal, if you could call any squeal dignified, but this woman managed it somehow.

  “Mon cheri.” And she was French—great. “You should’ve told me you were coming.” She walked . . . no strolled toward us, hips swaying rhythmically side-to-side like a pendulum—a voluptuous pendulum.

  Jasper shifted closer and his cock pressed against my lower back—his hard cock. And instead of thinking what the fuck was he doing with a hard cock, I was thinking if his hard cock was because of me or her?

  He whispered, “Play along, please. She’s human and knows nothing about the Scars.”

  I hated playing along. That was why I kept to myself. “Why are we here?” We’d passed a nice bed and breakfast fifteen minutes ago.

  “Because her coffee rocks.”

  I was pretty sure Jasper thought her coffee rocked because the French woman had rocked something else beforehand. And I was pretty sure if the woman served him mud after sex, he would’ve thought it tasted good.

  He stepped away from me and for a brief second, I wanted him back. I wanted it to be me who rocked. I crossed my arms, my back stiff as I stood watching the scene unfold.

  The woman with the chic shoulder-length blonde hair with a few streaks of subtle red interwoven, bit her lower lip then slowly let it slide from between her teeth. She certainly wasn’t paying attention to me. I could flap my arms and dance around like a chicken and the woman wouldn’t have noticed. Her eyes were on Jasper as he walked toward her.

  She fell against him, long spider-like arms wrapping around his neck, painted pink nails disappearing into his hair. She dragged his head down . . . dragged was the wrong word as Jasper didn’t look like he was being dragged anywhere he didn’t want to go. And then she kissed him.

  Jasper had both his hands on her waist and an odd pain clutched at my chest as I looked away.

  But it was like trying to not look at a car wreck and I glanced up again just as they broke apart. The woman whispered to him and I heard him chuckle quietly. I think the woman might have completely ignored me if Jasper hadn’t turned to me and then said something to her which made her look over at me and laugh. It was a high-pitched shrill that sounded like an off-tuned cello.

  I was good at acting impassive. That was how I’d survived living with Drake for so long. So, when Jasper and lip biter turned to me, I held my chin high and met them head on.

  “Max. Julianna has offered us dinner and a place to crash for the night. She also has some disinfectant to put on that scratch of yours.”

  Fucking lovely.

  Julianna ran a finger down his cheek to his chin then lower to trail a path down his chest. He grabbed her hand and pulled it away, and then said something to her. She glanced over at me and glared. Jasper leaned toward her again and said something else and she smiled, her white teeth sparkling against her blood red lips.

  She slid her hand down his tatted arm until her fingers linked with his and then turned, heading back inside with Jasper in tow. I crouched beside the bike and started unhooking the bag.

  “I’ll get it later. Get in here, Max. We need to re-bandage that wound,” Jasper called over his shoulder. Then the screen door clanged shut behind them.

  I ignored him and grabbed the bag, stood and threw it over my shoulder. I’d never cared about my looks before, but now I was running my fingers through my tangled hair that had become a bird’s nest after riding for hours on the back of his bike. Juliana had her hair done, make-up perfectly drawn and she was wearing a cute pair of beige shorts and a button-down white blouse that was tied at the waist to show off her tanned stomach.

  The screen door creaked open again. “Angel,” Jasper yelled. He scowled when he glanced at the bag and waited while I walked across the yard. I avoided looking at him as I slid by him. He took the bag off my shoulder then stopped me by snagging my hand. He pulled me into him, so my back was snug against his chest. “Julianna and I . . .” He stopped and a tremor erupted in his chest as he growled.

  I had no qualms about finishing what he was about to say. “Have fucked? No need to explain. I really don’t care.” The words were ground out even though I tried my best to hide my anger. Jesus, why was I angry? I should be happy he was getting laid. Then he’d leave me the hell alone.

  He leaned in and lowered his voice, his lips next to my ear. “You sure about that?” His arm around my waist squeezed and I dug my fingernails into the back of his hand as hard as I could.

  He abruptly let me go and I turned around and waited until his eyes were on mine before I mimicked Julianna’s lip action, the slow glide of my tongue wetting my lower lip. “Yes, sir. I’m sure.”

  His jaw clenched and the confident smirk erased as his lips pressed together. “Careful,” he murmured.

  I knew I was playing with a dangerous man, but I was tired of being careful and Jasper unleashed my recklessness. I inhaled his scent and it felt as if a latch lifted and I could finally take a deep breath. I smiled and he scowled.

  I heard footsteps and looked past him into Julianna’s quaint house. She stood on the oak staircase watching us and with her thin red lips pursed and her nails di
gging into the handrail, she looked like one pissed-off cat with its hackles up.

  I didn’t know why I did it, maybe because Jasper was opening up a part of me I didn’t understand. But something rose inside me and it was spiteful. I considered myself clever, calm, sane . . . until this moment.

  I stepped closer to Jasper and put my hand on the waistband of his jeans right at the button then fiddled with it, making sure my fingers brushed against his abdomen. His body tensed and I could feel his eyes driving into me, but I kept my head lowered.

  Then when I thought he might crack and grab my wrist and yank me away, I slipped my hand lower over the straining bulge. Shivers immediately flowed through my body, but it wasn’t cold shivers; it was sparks of fire. The touch of him beneath my hand was magnetic and it took me a second to get control of my expression before I peered up over my shoulder at Julianna.

  She had no idea what I was doing with my hand as I stroked up and down then gently squeezed. And that did it. Jasper roughly latched onto my wrist and yanked my hand away.

  And this was the stupidity part. I shouldn’t have looked up at him—I did. And what I saw was a blazing, heated look in his eyes that was anger and desire all rolled into one.

  I wanted him to throw me against the wall and fuck me right there. I didn’t even care that Julianna would see it happen. Shit, I wanted her to.

  Get control of yourself, Max. I was slipping, but for once, I wanted Jasper to be the one out of control.

  I forced a smile then leaned in close, went on my tiptoes and whispered in his ear, “Who am I to you?” I knew my question could be taken in two different ways and I was no seductress; actually, I’d never seduced a man in my life.

  Jasper wasn’t smiling. He looked pissed off. “Don’t fuck with me, Max. You’re nothing to me except a job.”