Page 72 of Fatal Fantasy

Maybe before we arrived in California that little bargaining chip was enough to keep Carter relatively safe, but now that we’re back in the picture, right by her side, it’s only the signature on his death certificate.

Tearing my gaze off Carter, I check on Massi, but I can feel the anger radiating off his bones from across the room, this being enough to send him into a blind rage.

For all of our sakes, I need them both to keep it together, stuffing down their violent, revenge-focused minds, but even I know that when it comes to Vincent, the man who raped our girl, there’s nothing in this world that’ll stop us from getting our pound of flesh.

THIRTY-NINE

JASPER

Since we rescued Carter, I’ve kept the more deranged version of myself in check, only blowing up one car full of dead bodies, and trust me, I could’ve been worse.

The first time she explained the torture, and hired husband, I chose to comfort her, rather than reacting with the violence I’m typically known for.

The second I thought she died, I had many options rolling through my head on how to right that wrong, but in the end, she was my saving grace, forcing me back to reality.

The moment that satellite phone went off, my muscles tensed in response, my fingers itching to pull the fucking trigger lodged in my lap, but I’m holding it all inside for Carter’s sake, ensuring she has the floor to deal with this dead man talking as she so chooses.

“We don’t have a deal, Vincent. Your agreement is with my father,” she says plainly, rolling her eyes as his breathing can be heard on the other line, the flick of a cigarette lighter the only sound coming from the decrepit device.

“This is ridiculous, Carter! I’ve been good to you, treated you with respect and care, and I thought you had enough sense to make this work, for your father,” he argues, and Carter jumps off the couch, a mix of horror and disgust on her pretty face, but I can see the anger taking center stage, her fists clenching at her sides while she paces around the room.

“You raped me. That’s not respect. You held my past over my head, and used it to get free fucking blowjobs. I don’t owe you shit, and you’re lucky I never bit that pathetic excuse for a cock clean off,” she asserts, a devilish grin cascading across her lips, and I couldn’t be more proud of how she’s standing up for herself, another monster conquered on the day’s total.

Tyson’s eyes meet mine, a smirk on his face as he returns his attention back to Carter, both of us utterly fascinated by the girl made of steel while she uses her lethal tongue to assert the power she carries in her veins.

This Vincent should be counting his lucky stars that we’re not face-to-face, or I’d be making every other man I’ve tortured look like child’s play, unleashing every ounce of pent up aggression, and ideas of revenge, on his pathetic body.

Soon enough, though, we’ll track him down and make him pay for what he did to Carter.

His death will ultimately be too easy, as he deserves a heftier punishment than any higher power could deliver, but my only hope is that when it’s my turn to go, I reunite with him in Hell.

He sure as fuck won’t have a peaceful afterlife, and nothing would make me happier than torturing him for every last second of eternity.

“You can’t rape your wife, you dumb broad. You meatheads are all the same, not a single logical thought behind all those muscles and weapons. You’d be nothing –” he spits, but before he can get another word out, I snatch the phone from the table, making my presence known.

“She’s not your fucking wife! If you ever call her that again, I’ll cut out your tongue and shove it so far up your ass, it’ll come right back out of your mouth!” I yell, my booming voice echoing off the walls, but when I sneak a glance at Carter, she’s pressed against the couch once again, arms wrapped around her midsection as tears well in her eyes.

She’ll never cry because of this man again, and if it’s the last thing I do on this Earth, I will get the retribution she deserves.

A slight chuckle comes from the other end of the phone, and every second that passes has my vision seething into a shade of red, the anger broiling inside my body as if I were placed in an oven with the heat turned all the way up.

My skin burns with fury, the hairs on my neck standing straight to attention, and every space within me that houses the beast wants to be unleashed, to use my darkness as a weapon.

“You must be Jasper. She cried for you, in that basement, you know. When it all became too much, and she’d passed out, I could’ve left, but it was so cute watching her beg for you to save her. But it wasn’t out of love, she saved that for when she’d cry for your brother, Tyson. I hear he’s walking again?” He challenges with a false sense of bravado dripping from his every word, but instead of giving him the reaction he wants, I laugh along with him, a deranged noise bubbling from my chest that even raises Carter’s eyebrow in response.

I’m a lot of things, but at my core, I’m nothing but a wild animal, bred to hunt prey and kill it to survive, and Vincent is just another little rabbit caught in the crosshairs of the coyote.

“I’ll see you soon, Vinny. I can’t wait to show you how much I appreciate the care you took of our girl.” I hurl the satellite phone at the wall, watching as it shatters into pieces, falling onto the floor in a heap, no longer able to destroy a shred of Carter’s humanity.

Her father, Vincent, and anyone else with ties to her old life are a threat, unworthy of the greatness that lives within her, and I refuse to let them have a single sliver of the girl I love.

“Come here, Principessina.” I hold my hand out, waiting until her palm clasps into mine before pulling her into my chest, wrapping her in a hug that’s so tight, she gasps for air.

“I’m okay, Jasper. I’m fine,” she chokes out, the emotion bubbling from her chest, but what Vincent said wasn’t easy to hear, and I saw her reaction when he mentioned the basement, the place where all her nightmares stem from.

Her body went rigid, eyes glassed over as if she were back in captivity, but I won’t let her slip into a catatonic state, forcing her to remain in the present with Ty and I.

“You’re not fine, but I’m so proud of you for standing up to that idiot,” Tyson chimes in, wrapping his arms around her backside, trapping her into the comfort of our embrace.