The Set Up (57 page)

There’s a sound echoing throughout the loft. It’s Jasper and he sounds like a wounded animal.

Jake remains where he stands.

Jasper’s face turns red. His mouth mashes into a line. Rage seems to take over.

Jake watches him, almost like he’s seen this transformation before.

In less than a second, Jasper goes completely wild and is lunging for Jake. I try to grab hold of him, but he’s a raging lunatic. Out of control. Wild. Crazy. Mad as hell. He’s on Jake and pinning him up against the wall before I can even blink. “I asked you to look out for her!” Jasper is out of control—his body trembling, his voice shaking.

Drew hustles over to them and attempts to pull Jasper off Jake.

I’m frozen in place, unable to move. I’ve never seen him this angry. This animalistic. This alpha.

Jasper has Jake in a chokehold. “Answer me,” he seethes.

Jake is coughing, not doing a thing to defend himself.

Despite his hulking size, Jasper sends Drew flying across the room.

I look at Will. “Do something!”

He shakes his head. “They need to work it out.”

Mrs. Storm and Whitney have their hands slapped over their mouths.

Deciding if I don’t take the situation into control, no one else is going to, I swiftly cross the room and scream, “Jasper, please, it wasn’t his fault. He found me. He saved me.”

As if in freeze frame, Jasper loosens his hold on Jake.

“He saved me,” I say again.

Jasper lets go of Jake and turns. His eyes sweep me once again. “He . . . he saved you?”

I nod.

Jasper looks at Jake, who is trying to compose himself. Jake nods. And then as if it is all too much, Jasper slides to the ground.

Slowly, I sit in front of him and take his face between my hands, my cast rougher on his skin than I want it to be. “If it wasn’t for Jake I might be dead.”

Jasper seems to be in shock.

Jake offers his hand first to me, then Jasper. They make eye contact and exchange a look I can’t quite decipher.

Standing, Jasper looks a me.

“Come on,” I insist, “we need to talk. I’ll tell you everything.”

As if slowly coming out of his state of shock, he blinks a few times and then he takes my cast in his hand, kisses it, looks at me, kisses my forehead, my nose, my lips. Soft and gentle, as if trying to ease my pain. “Charlotte, oh, God, Charlotte,” he says in a broken voice that I can feel the sharp edges of cutting at my soul.

“I’m okay,” I cry. “I’m okay.”

He doesn’t say another word. He doesn’t move. I’m not even sure if he is breathing. He’s just looking at me with haunted eyes.

Feeling so much stronger with him by my side, I take his hand and lead him toward the hallway. Everyone is silent around us; the only noise is the sound of the spaghetti sauce bubbling on the stove.

Stepping over his threshold first, I head toward the bed. I can hear the door close behind me. He’s following my lead. I sit down and pat the space beside me. He falls to my side, so close I can smell him. An unfamiliar but so-familiar scent. I turn with one leg on the bed and put my hand on his knee.

He’s being patient. It’s so unlike him. I want to blurt it all out and get it over with, yet I know it will hurt less if I take my time and explain. But he’s still shaking and I hate it, so I crawl onto his lap and wrap my arms around his neck, and then I start at the beginning and tell him everything.

Everything.

From why I went home Friday afternoon, to how I got there, to what happened once I entered my apartment, to Jake’s knock on the door. To Jake saving my life. From waking at the hospital, to his mother’s comfort, to his friends’ vigilance. And to how much I was worried about him and how very much I missed him.

Everything.

Everything, except those three little words I know I feel for him.
I’ve known it for a while.

I want to tell him how much he means to me. That I need him in my life. And for once I’m not worried I’m being too needy. I know Jasper Jackson Storm doesn’t look at me that way, but I also know Jasper isn’t JJ anymore and someone needing him doesn’t come easy.

So I hold off, because of him, and also because of me. In truth, I know I’m holding back for more than just him. I’m holding back because everyone I’ve ever cared about in my life is gone.

Forgotten me.

And I can’t lose him.

Therefore, skipping those words is okay because by the way he’s holding me close right now, I know he’s not planning on forgetting me.

And that’s enough.

MAINTENANCE CHECK

Jasper

IF TIME STANDS
still, nothing can go wrong.

But it doesn’t stop. Seconds. Minutes. Hours. Days. They pass and things happen. 259,200 seconds. 4,320 minutes. 72 hours. 3 days. That’s how long I was away from Charlotte. During that time, I was arrested. She was attacked. She almost died. Jake saved her. Her attacker was caught. Killed. And I was freed. Seems like enough wrong for a lifetime, and yet it was only three days.

The harsh cold reality of what has taken place has my body drenched in a cold sweat, my brain swimming in waves of emotion, and still, as I look at Charlotte, I can’t help but think she is stronger than I ever could have imagined because right now I feel like I might crumble.

This is my fault.

I should have been there for her.

There’s an ache that rips apart my chest every time I look at her.

We’ve talked for the past hour, mostly I listened, my heart so dark with the knowledge of what happened to her that I would kill the son of a bitch with my bare hands if I could.

Then I think of my friends, and my mother, and how they pulled together to take care of her when I couldn’t.

When I couldn’t.

That’s what weighs the heaviest on me—a burden harder to shed than any I could ever imagine.

“Are you going to apologize to Jake?”

Sighing, I look at her. “Trust me, he feels just as bad as me.”

She cocks her head in confusion.

I shake mine. “Never mind. I’ll talk to him.”

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Charlotte’s voice is full of concern.

I run my hands through her mounds of dirty-blond curls. “Stop asking me that. You’re the one who got hurt.”

“Always so bossy,” she tells me with a grin.

Flames are licking at my skin and there’s a burst of heat clawing through my stomach, but it all goes away with that one smile she gives me. “You like it when I’m bossy.”

“I like it when you’re a lot of things,” she teases, running her fingertips through my hair.

Flirty.

Sexy.

Incredible.

Her touch is electric. A current that travels all the way to my cock. I try not to think about sex. I shouldn’t want to get her naked, and yet, I can’t help but want to make her feel better in the only way I can right now.

My hands travel down her back and rest on the tattoo inked on her lower spine. On the bouquet of forget-me-nots. The image I wish she never had to mar her body with. The family who couldn’t love one little girl enough to make her feel special. Getting out of my own head, I push the dire thought away and focus on her. On how special I think she is. On the fact that she’s alive, and here with me.

Fingers tug at my hair, and she buries her face in my neck, kissing me softly, making me groan.

Maybe she has the same idea I do?

Knock. Knock. Knock.

The tap is light, gentle, and I know it’s none of the guys.

“Jasper and Charlotte. Dinner’s ready.”

I open my mouth to tell my mother to eat without us, but Charlotte puts her hand over my mouth. I can’t help but laugh at her; she knows me too well.

“We’ll be right there,” Charlotte tells my mother.

“Good, and Charlotte,” she says.

“Yes, Mrs. Storm?”

“Shannon stopped by to see how you’re doing.”

“Who’s Shannon?” I whisper.

That smirk on Charlotte’s face tells me I’m going to want to hear this. “Great, maybe she can stay for dinner,” she says to my mother.

“Great idea, I’ll ask her.”

The conversation through the door ceases. “Well, who’s Shannon?”

Charlotte grins. “The girl Jake likes.”

Confused, I raise my brows. “Jake doesn’t like girls.”
Wait that didn’t sound right.
“I mean he likes girls, he just doesn’t date girls.”

“Well he does now. He must have asked her over.”

“And he met her how?”

“She’s a resident at the hospital,” she says as if that explains everything.

Pulling her closer to me, I say, “Okay, great. Let them all eat together. We’ll stay in here.”

She shakes her head no.

I stare at her. At her lips. At her face, bruised but still beautiful. “But I’m not hungry . . . for food.”

“Shhh . . . they’ll hear you.”

“I don’t really care.”

“Jasper, your mother has been cooking for hours. I don’t want to disappoint her.”

“My mother has been cooking?” I ask in surprise.

“Yes, and we’re going to join her and everyone else for dinner, and you’re going to tell her how good the food is and that you want seconds.”

I shake my head and lift Charlotte off of me, gently setting her bare feet on the carpet. “Who’s being bossy now?”

She shrugs. “Sometimes I have to take charge.”

There’s a dirty comeback for that, I’m certain, but I don’t try to think of one. Instead, I wrap my arm around her. “By all means, lead the way.”

CRUISE CONTROL

Charlotte

PATIENCE IS A
virtue—that Jasper doesn’t have much of. And yet tonight he continues to amaze me.

After a very long meal, many bottles of wine, a private discussion with Jake, and hours of conversation about what happened to him and me, everyone has left and he’s walking his mother to her car. Feeling only slightly tired, I took my pain pills and I’m alone in his room, staring out the window at the reflection of the moon on the river.

“What do you think is next?” he asks softly.

I turn around to see his sexy silhouette bathed in the moonlight. “I don’t know, but I hope something good.”

His eyes are half-lidded with lust as he strides my way. “Me too.”

Wanting him so badly, I blurt out, “Make love to me.”