Page 49 of Fatal Fantasy

“Yes, Tyson,” I breathe, still woozy from that kiss and attempting to hide just how turned on I am, the involuntary clenching of my thighs doing me no favors.

“Good girl. Now, please, let me bring the beautiful curls that I love back to life?” He pleads, unwrapping the towel from my hair gently, while adjusting the fabric around my body until I’m covered again.

I never thought that a man doing his woman’s hair could be romantic, but as Tyson works his way through my routine, I feel my heart swelling with love, the butterflies in my belly fluttering like I’m a schoolgirl with a crush.

Step by step, he’s reviving another piece of me that I once thought was lost forever, but whatever it is that he sees in me, he believes in it, wholeheartedly.

What I accomplished is no small feat, a major improvement as I continue my healing journey, but with two of the most dedicated, loving and loyal boys beside me, I have no doubt that this path is something I can conquer.

TWENTY-THREE

JASPER

One moment we’re in a shitty motel in California, questioning every move made as we inched toward Carter’s rescue, and wondering how the hell it’d be possible to pull off the kidnapping of a lifetime, from right under another Don’s nose.

Now, days later, we’re hours ahead and a whole country away, finding solace in each other while we get back to the glory days of what our relationship once was.

Of course, we can never go back to those exact moments, but creating brand new versions of ourselves, while remaining strongly connected to one another, is a victory in itself before we’ve even thought about our celebration.

Everything we’ve been through – separately and together – has led us here, to a place where we can be open about our struggles, work together to fix them, and remember what it meant to be a solid three-person unit that moves as one.

Tyson has dedicated himself to this plan, and this cabin proves the lengths he’s willing to go in order to move Carter safely off the continent of North America.

I’m nothing but his glorified side-kick, willing to do the dirtier jobs, or get my hands bloody, in order to complete the mission we’ve embarked on.

At the same time, there’s always been a softer side to me, one that was only activated by a dark-haired Angel, and belongs solely to her, so when I hear her screams, I immediately jump into action.

I was afraid that the shower exposure therapy was too much too soon, but Ty pushed her in this direction, and my heart cracks in my chest as I listen to her cries from across the cabin.

Racing to the bathroom, I nearly burst through the door, ready to knock Tyson’s teeth in for rushing through her healing, but before I cross the threshold, I hear her laughter, and hushed voices over the spray of the water.

My gut instinct tells me that she’s not in any danger, or suffering in an intense capacity, so I back off, allowing them to have their moment, and instead, picking through the non-perishable groceries Tyson had stocked before we arrived.

There’s not much, but with a jar of salsa, queso, and a bag of tortilla chips, I make quick work of creating an appetizer for us all, knowing that we couldn’t possibly eat gas station snacks one more time.

Next, I crack open the bottle of vodka, mixing two glasses with cranberry on the rocks for me and Tyson, leaving Carter’s exactly how she prefers – straight and warm.

I’ve waited around before while she’s done her hair, but this time feels tortuous, my hands only staying busy because they’re itching to be on her body, the desperation oozing from my pores as I distract myself until I’m barely able to stand on my own two feet.

Finally, after what feels like days, she comes scampering through the kitchen, wearing a black v-neck t-shirt, and a pair of leggings that have lines of see-through lace running down her outer thighs.

I wasn’t expecting to be treated this way so soon, the choice to let her skin show nearly causes me to collapse, but rather than make this moment bigger than it is, I choose to focus on her biggest accomplishment.

“My little temptress of death has graced me with her presence. You look fucking incredible,” I declare dramatically, crossing the floor faster than my feet can move, practically falling into her arms as I admire her shiny curls.

Just like the first time I saw her, I’m completely captivated by her darkness, the raw beauty in this petite girl almost criminal, which in turn, reduces me to nothing but a lucky man, allowed to worship the wonderful creature before me.

“Jasper, you’re too much,” she giggles, wrapping her arms around my neck as I stare down into her ice-blue eyes, the sparkle on full display tonight, proving that the happiness is truly working its way back into her system.

“I’m a mere mortal in the presence of the darkest goddess this universe has ever seen. Seriously, Principessina, you’re always beautiful, but you know damn well the power you hold over me.” I press my crotch into her thigh, accentuating my words with an unmistakable gesture, and she smirks, clearly pleased with her work.

“What’s all this?” She asks, lacing her fingers through mine as I lead her toward the dining table that I set for the three of us.

“We can’t exactly go to a Mexican restaurant, so I brought the appetizers to us.” I pull her chair out, waiting until she’s settled before pushing her in, and handing her a perfectly crafted drink.

Tyson follows suit, and just like that, it feels like home again.

Back in Jersey, whether we cooked or ordered out, we always ate together at the dining table, and small moments like this remind me of where our story began, bringing a wave of nostalgia over our newfound place to call home – even if it’s only temporary.