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CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

JASPER

I’ve stared at Bailey’s haunted face on the screen for days now, pacing the floors, waiting on something tangible to do. The photo is my sister, no doubt about it, but she looks nothing like the girl I hugged over a year ago as she went off to college. She’s paler, thinner, her wide eyes making her look years younger than nineteen.

Behind her empty expression, traces of her show through, and that’s enough to keep me going. She’s still in there. The little sister who switched my shampoo for toothpaste and hid rubber snakes in my bed. Who camped out in my closet for hours just to embarrass me when my girlfriend came over, jumping out and yelling boo. The Bailey who wanted to travel the world, teaching kids how to read.

Falin and Leon have been working nonstop. Barely taking breaks to eat or sleep. It’s not only Bailey’s life on the line, but countless others, and we have no idea where they are. We’re out of our league here. I’m pretty sure none of us expected this thing to be so huge, and fuck, I feel so helpless.

Falin’s at her desk, bleary-eyed after another sleepless night. I come up behind her, moving her hair aside to kiss her neck. She hums contentedly, continuing to tap away at her keyboard. “You’re distracting me.”

That’s the last thing I want to do, but I can’t help it. “I’m bored and you’re irresistible.”

She leans her head back to meet my gaze, and I kiss her plump lips. “The waiting is hard. Trust me, I get it. I’ll have something for us soon.” I kiss her again, pressing my tongue against the seam of her lips. When we break apart, her chest rises and falls rapidly. “You should go take a walk. Get some air. If you keep distracting me, I’m going to have to punish you.”

“Is that supposed to make me want to leave?” I tease. She raises her brow, setting her lips in a straight line. Falin’s way of saying get lost. “I’ll go grab sandwiches from the deli. Turkey and spicy mustard?”

“Yes, please. Spicy chips too. Do you need cash?” I shake my head, too proud to admit that funds are tight.

“I’ll be back soon.”

I make my way onto the busy sidewalk, dodging a woman pushing a stroller, and shimmying past a pair of tourists. It’s another unseasonably warm afternoon, and people are taking advantage of it.

I breathe in the scent of the city. Spices from the food cart around the corner, heavy perfume trailing from the person behind me, a subtle hint of smoke in the air. It’s a bummer that we haven’t had much time to enjoy being here. The endless possibilities of sights and experiences feels almost overwhelming. I picture Falin and me walking hand in hand, doing typical couple shit. Catching a show, grabbing dinner. Getting handsy in the back of a taxi. Hopping out in the village to drink at some tiny dive bar.

The scene is so vivid, I can reach out and touch us. Lost in thought, I bump into a guy on the corner. “Hey, watch where you’re walking! Putz!”

“Sorry, man.” I raise a hand in a show of goodwill, but he’s already crossing the street. Ah, gotta love New Yorkers.

I continue ahead, my body thrumming with pent up energy. If this street were clear I’d fucking sprint my way to the deli just to blow off some steam.

I need to take the edge off. To fuck or fight or?—

My phone buzzes from my pocket. I grab it, answering without looking at the number. “Hello?”

“I heard you were looking for some pinks?” An unknown voice makes me stop short. I move out of the way, looking at my phone. Shit. I grabbed my burner instead of my normal one.

“How’d you get this number?”

“Listen, do you want them or not?”

Saliva floods my mouth, as an ache hits me square in the gut. I close my eyes and flashes of using play through my mind. A full body shiver rolls through me. I swallow hard, yanking my hand through my hair. “Fuck, I?—”

“Texting you the spot. Be there in less than an hour.”

The line goes dead before I can respond.

When the text comes all I can do is stare at it. I stare so long that my eyes water and the words blur into a jumble of nonsense. The screen darkens and a flash of my reflection stares back at me. By then, I’ve already made my choice.

* * *

I wake to the setting sun burning my eyes, and my hand pressed against gritty, trash strewn sand. “What the hell?”

The sound of waves lapping against the shore mixes with distant voices and squawking seagulls. They circle overhead, drawn to the scattered remains of fast food and snack bags surrounding me. Dizziness hits as I push myself to a sitting position, broken glass crunching beneath my palms.

A fitting place to wake up after what I’ve done.

A few feet away, a dude higher than I’ve ever been nods off, barefoot in tattered clothes.

Is that what I’ll become?

Maybe it’s what I deserve. I sure as hell don’t deserve to go back home to Falin.

How long have I been here?

The baggie feels like an iron weight in my pocket. Every last dollar I had, wasted and for what? I feel like shit.

I pull out my phone and stare at the black screen. She shouldn’t have this number, but somehow she got it. Rows of missed calls fill the screen. Texts too.

Waiting on that sandwich… you get lost?

Okay, for real. You good?

JASPER SHEA CALL ME BACK

Guilt gnaws away at my gut. Why am I like this? A loser. Fuck up. Junkie. She deserves better.

The water calls to me. Cold and calm. I could walk right into its depths, clench my eyes shut and sink to the bottom. It would be so easy. So much easier than living like this.

The phone vibrates in my hand, her number flashing across the screen. For a second, I have this urge to chuck the thing into the river, but I stop myself. I can’t do that to her. My reflection in the glass shows a stranger—pale, bloodshot eyes, hollow. Ugly.

“Fuck!”

I pound my fist into the sand.

“Fuck! Fuck! FUCK!”

My chest heaves as thick crimson drips between my fingers. The sting barely registers through everything else I’m feeling.

I deserve every bit of this pain.

My phone vibrates again and I finally answer, a plan in my mind.

“Baby,” I rasp, throat full of gravel. “Punish me.”

The words hang there, a plea and a prayer. I need her to give me what I deserve. What I’m too much of a coward to give myself.

She finally answers, her voice thick with emotion. “What did you do?”

I used.

I can’t admit it. If I say the words out loud, they become real. No more dreamland. My own guilt is more than I can take.

“Please,” I beg.

A siren wails in the distance, and I’m grateful for the noise. Maybe she can’t hear the choked sob that escapes my lips.

I stand, glancing at my blood dripping onto the sand. Her voice is my salvation. My judgement. “Get home.”

“I will—I?—”

“Now.” Her tone promises I’m going to get exactly what I deserve.

Getting home was difficult in more ways than one. My borrowed credit card declined so I had to panhandle for cash to ride the subway back. I have no fucking clue how I’d gotten so far south to begin with. After I met with that plug, everything was a blur. The whispers and stares as I begged commuters will play in my head for days to come. The little kid asking his mom, “Why does that man need our money? Doesn’t he have a job?” cut deeper than the glass did.

I curled into a ball the entire ride home, trying to become invisible. My insides feeling as filthy as I must look. My clothes stained with seagull shit and blood, reeking like the river.

Falin’s waiting for me outside the apartment. She doesn’t see me yet, and I’m happy I get to prolong that moment. Her hair is tied up in a knot above her head, and she’s thrown on a pair of my sweats that hang off her much smaller frame. She’s still the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.

She’s reading her phone, brows furrowed, shoulders almost touching her ears. I wonder what she’s looking at. When she sees me, her expression won’t change for the better and I hate myself for that.

Our gazes meet when I’m a few feet away, hers wide and questioning, mine vacant and ashamed. Her lips move as she says something too low for me to hear. What the fuck? I think.

In that moment something about her posture shifts. She stands up straight, arms crossed. Her brows narrow and mouth becomes a straight line.

“I’m sorry,” I say once I reach her. And I mean it. I really fucking do. Everything feels awkward. I don’t know what to do with my hands. Should I reach for her? Hold her?

“Jasper, what the hell?” There’s a hint of warmth in her gaze but as her eyes scrutinize me, it turns to flames licking skin. She knows what I need. “Save the excuses.”

Head hung low, I follow her upstairs. She all but shoves me into the shower, silent the entire time. I don’t deserve her kindness anyway.

Once I’m washed, she walks me into her bedroom, locking the door behind her. The apartment is quiet, but I don’t ask questions.

“You were bad, weren’t you?” I nod, unable to meet her gaze. “You want to be punished? To pay for your mistakes?”

“Please. Punish me. Make it hurt.” I barely recognize my pleading tone. “I fucked up bad, baby.”

“I’m not your baby,” she says. “Bend over the bed.”

I’m already hard as a steel rod. What the fuck is wrong with me?

I obey, bending at the waist until my torso rests flat on the soft bed. Anticipation sends a rush through my veins, sparking the tiniest bit of hope through me. “Tell me your safe word.”

My head swims, but I mutter out the first thing I think of. “Banana.” A hint of a smile grazes her lips before she schools them back into a line. She pushes me into the bed, standing behind me.

I’ve barely taken a breath before her palm connects with my ass. “Fuck,” I groan into the blanket. She does it again and again, spanking me with all her strength, alternating sides until tears leak from my eyes and my cock throbs. I bite my lip to keep from crying out.

“You fucked up and now you’ll pay.” She grabs something from the side of the bed, and I feel a different sensation. Sharper. More painful against my raw skin. A flogger, maybe? She whacks my thighs, outside and inside, before dragging the leather up and through my crack. “You like that, don’t you?”

I should lie. Tell her no. But it’s obvious that I love every second she hurts me. “Yes.” She flogs me again until I suck air between my teeth, hissing every curse I know. “Please.”

“Don’t beg. You deserve this, so take every second.” Each time she strikes, I rock into the bed, so close to coming all over her clean linen. She hurls insults and I soak them in, needing this. Loving her putting me in my place.

“You scum.” Paddle. “You waste of space.” Smack. “This ass deserves to get fucked raw.”

“Oh God, please, baby,” I plead. I cry. I’m fucking gone for her. “Please fuck my ass.”

“Get on the bed.” I push up to stand and almost collapse on my shaking legs. When I glance back at her, my mouth waters. She’s wearing nothing but a harness that holds a huge flesh-colored dildo. Fucking hell, she’s hot. I can’t tell which one of us loves this more. I’ve never had my ass fucked. Never had more than a finger in there while getting my dick sucked. But I’d let her tear me open with a smile on my face. “Hands and knees, you filthy slut.”

With another spanking, she positions herself behind me. Cool liquid leaks down my ass and onto the bed. I groan as I feel pressure against my hole, stretching me. There’s no pain. Shocked, I glance back and see that she’s holding something—a small toy. I arch as it slides in, her name spilling from my lips.

“I’m getting this hole nice and ready for my cock.” She pumps it in and out, and it takes every ounce of restraint in me not to fist my dick.

“Please,” I beg. “Make it hurt.”

She freezes behind me, but only for a moment before pulling the toy out. I hear the bottle uncapping and feel more liquid run between my spread cheeks. Then she’s there, lined up with my hole. I’m so hard, I could burst. I want this. I want her to hurt me so bad that I won’t be able to sit for days.

In one swift thrust, she fucks into me and the burn is the most painful thing I’ve ever felt. Even with the lube, I’m stretched and stuffed beyond what I’d ever thought imaginable. “Oh, fuck!”

I groan.

I scream.

I curse her name.

“Take it,” she says roughly. “You dirty little whore.” She punctuates with another hard spank.

She moans with me as she fucks me, and I just know her cunt is sopping wet. My body accommodates her, and we pick up a rhythm. “Harder,” I groan.

“Fuck!” she screams, slamming into me, balls deep. “Get on your back.”

I’m panting and crying, saliva leaking down my chin, but I obey like her good little slut, turning over and holding my legs to my chest. She takes a second to rake me over with heady eyes, before squeezing more lube over my hole.

“I want to see your face when I finally let you come on my cock.” She pushes into me to the hilt. Pounding me with fury in her eyes.

“So full, baby. Fuck, you feel so good.” Our skin slaps together, the sound mixing with our shared moans. “I don’t deserve you. I’ll never deserve you.”

“Jasper,” she cries. Her tone softening. “Shut up and fuck your fist.”

As soon as my hand wraps around my dick, that’s it. Her cock destroys me while my hand strokes, and that’s all it takes for me to erupt like a goddamn volcano. “Slap my face, baby,” I beg. Hot ropes of cum paint my stomach. “Punch me.”

With her cock still buried deep, she open-palm slaps my face. “Never ever use again, you hear me?”

“Harder,” I cry. She makes a fist and punches me in the fucking nose. I hear the crunch before a blinding pain has me roaring out. “Again.”

“Fuck, Jasper!” She punches me again, leaning in so her cock hits me deep. I can barely take the fullness and the pain. It’s terrible. It’s exquisite.

I feel hot liquid slide down my face and lick my lips, tasting copper. “Yes, baby. Come here.”

She pulls out and I immediately miss the way she fills me up. I wrap her in my arms, kissing her, blood smearing across our faces, in our mouths, mixing with our salty tears.

“I’m sorry,” she cries, peppering kisses across my jawline.

I hold her face, staring into her gorgeous eyes. “No. You have nothing to be sorry about. You’re incredible. I don’t deserve you. I’ll never deserve you.”

I kiss her with every last ounce of strength I have left, holding her tight against my chest, until our breathing stills and heartbeats sync.