Page 88 of Fatal Scheme

“That doesn’t shed any light on this trip whatsoever,” she snarks, and I snatch her chin, tilting it upward until I bite her lower lip, drawing a small pool of blood, delivering a harsh punishment for her sass.

“You know I like that shit,” she smirks, licking every droplet until it stains her tongue, the little temptress always finding a way to one-up me.

“Yeah, Massi, what are we walking into here? You’ve always been so secretive about this place,” Ty chimes in, his curiosity finally coming to a head, as he’s never wondered over the years why I make frequent stops at a storage unit.

“It’s four-eleven. Two aisles down, on the left,” I inform, scanning my keycard that opens the gate, this being the first time I’ve allowed him beyond the iron metal with me.

Usually, I walk, not wanting him to know anything about this secret, giving him plausible deniability in case I ever got caught by our fathers.

No matter what I’ve done, the orders I’ve followed, or how many people I’ve killed, Tyson has been my brother through it all, and protecting him has always been my priority, which is why his eyes widen in shock when I open the overhead door.

There’s one table against the back wall, stacked with multiple boxes, all labeled with a sharpie and organized flawlessly.

“Jesus, Jasper. What is this?” Carter whispers, her fingers laced in mine, taking each step beside me as I invite them inside my ultimate secret.

First, I pull down the box labeled ‘watches’, dumping the contents onto the floor, flashes of gold and silver shining against the one dim light in the ceiling.

Following suit, I empty the ‘rings’, ‘bracelets’, and ‘miscellaneous’, labeled boxes, making a pile of jewelry that probably boasts value in the millions, maybe even more.

“Where did this come from? Did you rob a fucking jewlery store?” Carter breathes, rifling through the mix until her eyes land on a blood-covered ring, and she immediately searches for my gaze. “These are from the men you’ve killed.”

“I could’ve buried them with all this, but some of them are engraved, making it easier to be identified. After a while, I realized that a box under my bed wasn’t safe, so I moved it all here. Wasn’t really sure what else to do, but this is worth … a lot.” I shrug, not exactly proud of this, it feels like a creepy, serial killer trophy collection, and I couldn’t be happier to finally offload it all.

“You saved this for what, a rainy day?” Tyson finally speaks up, his face green like he’s going to be sick.

“For the future. I have a guy who doesn’t ask questions, and he’s expecting us in a few hours, so let’s load this shit up,” I say, tossing a black duffel bag in the center of the room, one big enough to hold all this metal.

It’s another way of erasing my history, wiping the slate clean, and pledging to the fresh start the three of us have conjured.

With no more secrets, or bodies on my conscience, I’m completely devoted to my brother, and my girl, choosing whatever comes next with everything in my bones.

After this, we make a break for it, taking as much as we can carry on our backs, and heading straight for the fucking hills.

FORTY

CARTER

It’s something out of a modern day version of Bonnie and Clyde as we run around town, cleaning up messes and purging the sins from our lives, making a mad dash from the carnage we’ve created.

Of course, my messes aren’t nearly as bad here as they are back at home, but I’ve certainly left my mark on Emory, and have vowed that Jasper and Tyson’s are mine too, sharing their burden.

After we loaded and subsequently offloaded Jasper’s major jewelry operation, we’re two million dollars richer, not including the stacks of cash he took from his parent’s house, and Tyson’s own stash that he kept safe all this time.

I’m afraid that I don’t have anything of value to bring to the table, but if I were to run home and grab my own go bag, that’d ruin the cover I’ve kept intact since the day I arrived here.

Once we’re safe and sound away from the fire we’re setting in our wake, I’ll confess everything, but we’re so close to the finish line that I couldn’t possibly jeopardize the mission now.

About thirty-six hours ago, we were given the ultimate warning, receiving three days to make our escape, but when my father delivered those words, he thought I’d be there amongst the rubble, waiting to take my throne.

Instead, I left the satellite phone in Manhattan, completely cutting ties from the Cassini Family, and choosing the boys who have my heart and soul.

After we left the suite, we’ve been moving non-stop, making plans, organizing our things, and evicting ourselves from the Emory frat house, erasing all traces of us from this small town.

Tyson has switched the plates on his truck, making it our getaway car, and I’ve packed every little thing from their rooms we’ve deemed important, tossing it into the bed as we’ve all agreed to leave as soon as the sun rises tomorrow morning.

If you’re given a timeline, there’s no reason to risk things down to the wire, and we’re planning to be on a beach somewhere, thousands of miles away before that ticking clock expires.

It came as a dire warning, but also served as a fire under our asses, revealing secrets that were kept for this very moment, and using the leverage to get out with as much as we can take.