Page 35 of Fatal Fantasy

“I swear to whoever is presiding over Hell that I will fucking kill you if you come back with so much as a scratch on that pretty face,” she warns, a distinct fire in her words, and eyes, that I believe in, shaking me down to my core.

“I just got you back, there’s not a slim chance in those torturous, pearly gates of Heaven that’d keep me from crawling across glass until I crash landed at your feet.”

“God, you’re such a romantic.” She fans herself with her hand dramatically, and I can’t help but smile, every barb we trade slowly bringing that smart mouthed little temptress I fell for back to the light.

She pulls me by the back of my neck until our lips meet in the middle, a few quick pecks that solidify a promise to return, even though I’m quite literally walking two blocks away.

“Massi, grab these packages for me, too? Same place as where you’re going.” Ty tosses me his credit card, along with a key card that accesses a special drop box he bought, specifically for online purchases, keeping our contact with delivery men at a minimum.

“Yes, Master. Anything else?” I quip, and he barely huffs a breath in my direction, his focus solely on the screen in his face.

Thankfully, he’s back, and better than ever, meaning I no longer have to torture myself with the tall task of sitting behind a laptop in the foreseeable future. After all the hours spent hunched over a screen, I’m positive that I burned any and all chances of skating through life without needing glasses.

As much as I don’t want to leave Carter, preferring to spend every second possible in her orbit, I believe that we’re on the cusp of having that every day, for the rest of our lives, and the errand I’m running is solely for her.

After he revealed just how much money we’re rolling in, I may have splurged with Tyson’s credit card, picking out a few things necessary to bring my Principessina back to life, essential items that I know she’s been deprived of for far too long.

I’ve never had the desire to see the West Coast, and that sentiment rings true as I slip out of our motel room, the unforgiving sun burning into my skin the second I start down the road.

Wherever we decide to live has to be less humid, and certainly on a coastline somewhere, access to the beach being a priority on the top of my list.

Without a hitch, I cross two blocks, finding Tyson’s dropbox easily and grabbing the things we ordered solely to bring a smile to Carter’s face.

Her healing is all I care about, besides getting out of the country, and these little trinkets will replace the trauma she’s been battling, even if only for a few moments.

Previously on the verge of killing her, I’ve been reborn since being back in her orbit, all those things I accused Tyson of falling for can easily be thrown right back at me, as I’m completely trapped under the spell of Carter Cassini, once again.

This time, though, I’m planning to fall victim to her special brand of chaos, her hand-crafted magic potion until the end of time.

SIXTEEN

CARTER

Growing up, I never thought of myself as a person who had mental health issues, even when kids my age were being diagnosed and drugged up all around me.

While I didn’t grow up in a traditional household in any sense, I had my bearings, knew what I wanted to be when I became an adult, and worked toward those goals whenever I could.

There wasn’t any time to dissect my dark thoughts, fears, or responses to the things I’d been seeing since a very young age, due to my father’s method of training.

Now, as I watch Jasper walk out the door, my heart rate immediately accelerates, the idea of him being out in the world on his own is nearly paralyzing, and I’m at the mercy of the cruelest thoughts my mind can conjure.

Not only that, but I can’t sleep without having nightmares, my PTSD from being torturously waterboarded prevents me from being anywhere near a stream of water, and my body is so littered with scars that I resemble an army vet coming home from being held as a prisoner of war.

In the simplest of terms, I’m a fucking mess, something I can confidently say I’ve never experienced before, but even when the scariest thoughts threaten to take me under, there’s at least one big, strong man around willing to carry me through it, and this time is no different.

“Baby girl, hey. Come here,” Tyson calls out, tapping his thigh as I realize I’ve been crying, my body shaking from how quickly I lost myself within my own mind.

It should be criminal, the fact that my own head can affect me this badly, changing the course of my moments just because of a few intrusive thoughts, and I genuinely can’t grasp the idea that people live like this, day in and day out.

I’m a coward, as I’d rather take the easy way out, erasing these thoughts – and any pleasant ones – for good, but with Tyson and Jasper around again, I can say the desire to end my own life is beginning to dwindle.

“I’m not okay, Tyson. I want to fucking throw up at the idea of Jasper leaving on his own. I can’t do normal things, or function like a proper human being … I’m just not okay,” I confess, sliding my legs over his thighs, being extra gentle as I don’t want to hurt him.

“You’ve never been normal, baby girl, at least not by society's standards. We just have to get you back to a safe mindset, but I promise you, any help you need along the way, you will get. I’ll take you to the doctor if you think medication would help, or stay up all night whispering sweet things in your ears, just so you’d get a few hours of sleep. You. Are. Mine. And I take care of what’s mine,” he says with two fingers under my chin, ensuring we keep full eye-contact as he brings me to tears in the best of ways.

“You are too good to me, Tyson,” I sniffle, wondering how it’s even possible to cry this many times in such a short time period.

“You’re gonna be fine, Carter. Between Massi and I, there’s nothing we can’t help you work through, or be by your side for,” he tells me, smiling as his eyes shift between me, and the laptop, his focus split equally.