Page 52 of Fatal Scheme

“Is that why you were so surprised when I said I wasn’t scared of you two?”

“I knew you weren’t afraid of us from the moment I saw you, baby girl. You’re just like we are, never fitting the mold of what people expect,” he confesses, and my heart melts a little at his words, still in awe at how the superpower he possesses is the ability to see things about myself before I do.

“Tell me about your panic attacks? Like the night Jasper was shot.” I test the waters, wondering if he’ll be open with me, the way he expects me to be with him.

In this lifestyle, vulnerability is hard to come by, and although I haven’t been one-hundred percent honest with them, I’ve given Tyson and Jasper more of me than anyone has ever had, but in return, I’d like pieces of them, too, no matter the cost.

“Massi is reckless. He’s not my brother by blood, but he is in every other sense of the word,” he answers vaguely, and I kink my eyebrow, not accepting his half-ass cover story.

“I’ve seen his scars. I know that night wasn’t his first rodeo, but I want to be able to help you if something like that happens again,” I say softly, taking his hands in mine from across the table, our eyes locking as he works through the demons in his mind.

He sighs deeply, like he’s contemplating whether or not to share, but I wait patiently, allowing him the space to feel comfortable, just like he does for me.

With Jasper, my connection to him stems from our initial attraction, the things we have in common regarding our twisted minds, and smart ass mouths. With him, the relationship was built on a physical level, only slowly working up to the emotional side, but Tyson is different.

Tyson has been inside my head from the moment we met, his ability to read my mind, see through me, and know what I need is the exact balance I never knew could exist, or be directed toward me. I feel tethered to him, like a string that runs straight through our hearts and tugs in our chests every time we share a moment like this.

“When I was six, my mother was killed. She was collateral damage in a war that she wanted no part of, and I had a front row seat, unable to do anything but watch the life drain out of her. Now, the sight of blood and gunshots sends me back, reverting me into a little boy again, the helplessness overpowering my rational, adult thoughts.” He tips his head back, attempting to keep the tears at bay, but I just can’t sit and watch as his inner turmoil takes over, so I slide out of the booth, joining him and offering comfort.

Pulling his head onto my shoulder, I hold him close, exactly like he does for me when I get upset, and a sigh of content leaves his chest, my presence enough to calm him down.

“I’m so sorry, Tyson. If it’s any consolation, my mother died too, and sometimes I remember that it was quite literally my fault. She died during labor,” I confess, and his head snaps up, darkened eyes meeting mine within seconds, a certain sadness present that I’ve never seen before.

“Jesus Christ, that’s heavy as fuck. I’m sorry, Carter.”

“It was hard when I was younger, never getting to meet her, but my father never married again. He’s always said that she was his one true love,” I tell him, and he softens, like my words are resonating with something inside of him.

“I’d never be with anyone else if I lost you, baby girl,” he says, planting a gentle kiss on my cheek as the waitress brings our drinks, a disgusted look on her face when she realizes I moved seats.

“Ready to order?” She asks, a snarky tone in her voice that causes Tyson’s body to tense up in response.

“We’ll do three sausage and peppers on a roll. Mustard on two of them,” he answers, ordering for me even though I hadn’t glanced at the menu.

“Make that three,” I chime in, tucking under Tyson’s arm to freak the waitress out even more, giving her something to talk about with her scaredy cat friends.

“Be right up,” she whispers, scurrying off faster than she came, and I roll my eyes, returning my attention back to the big softie beside me.

“Your touch could bring me back to reality, but seeing Massi, knowing he’s alright, that does it. I need to be snapped out of the trance where I’m afraid that I’m watching someone die. The sight of wounds and blood trigger the state I get into, so sometimes, breaking out of it is hard,” he says, turning until we’re facing each other completely, his hand resting on my cheek.

“Okay, I’ll do everything I can to help you, but hopefully, that never happens again.” I take his hand in mine, kissing the top of his knuckles as a small gesture of intimacy for opening up.

“In this life, we’re not guaranteed an extra second, let alone a day, baby girl. I’m sorry we’ve brought you into something so … grim,” he whispers, dropping his head a little, but I slip my fingers under his chin, forcing him to maintain eye contact.

“You didn’t rope me into anything. I’m exactly where I want to be, and I don’t scare easily, you know that.” I stay completely still, allowing him to judge my words based on my body language, and finally, he nods, accepting what I’ve said at face value.

An overwhelming urge takes over, something I never thought would happen, but all I want is to confess – to say that I understand, and have been born into the same life that he has – but I don’t.

I should use this moment of vulnerability to tell him every-fucking-thing, and run away with them into the sunset, finding a new life for just the three of us, but I don’t.

I deserve to lift this weight off my shoulders – one that I placed – and fill the final space in my heart with the outpouring of love that’d come alongside a clear conscience, but I don’t.

Instead, I sit face to face with one of the men I’m falling head over heels for, continuing to lie to him, and pretending that I’m okay with it.

“You are beyond my wildest dreams, baby girl.” He gently kisses my lips, holding me close as the vibrator turns on again, it jolting me upright as the sensation instantly sweeps me into a frenzied state.

Tears well in my eyes as I look up at Tyson, almost as if I’m begging for mercy, but knowing deep down he’d never allow me to give in that easily. I watch as he uses one finger to push a small button higher up on the screen, and immediately feel the intensity rise, the toy vibrating against my thighs as a soft moan unwillingly escapes my lips.

“They’ll only know if you let them.” He rubs my belly, pressing me against the booth as the waves cascade over me, knowing my body well enough to push the exact button that causes my detonation.