Page 57 of Malicious Desires

“It’s my house,” I tell him, reaching over the console to grip his thigh. “And whoever is chasing us won’t dare follow.”

He nods, not replying but he takes my hand with his and yanks the steering wheel tightly to careen around the bend onto my street. This might be a bad idea, but I don’t think there’s any other option.

Chapter 33

Reece

Taking the turn onto Mount Vemore View Road, just as Jasper said we’re no longer being followed. I’m still clutching Jasper’s hand in mine with our fingers laced together. His breathing is returning to normal and I glance across at him as I drive up the hill. Jasper could’ve gotten hurt because I fucked up and didn’t think to send him a fucking message when he was expecting my presence at his house. I inadvertently involved Jasper in a job, and I’m surely going to suffer a consequence for that stupidity. This feud is killing me. I’ve gotta find a way to sort it out. My father’s words about my fraternising with the enemy come to mind as I get to the top of the hill, stopping in front of the iron gates of Jasper’s family mansion. I think maybe I need to be honest, to talk to my father openly and admit the truth. It’ll probably be a complete disaster but I can’t continue living in the shadows with Jasper. He deserves more than that.

Jasper taps something on his phone, and the gates swing open in front of the car.

“Drive in, and head to the left. You can park under the weeping willow tree.”

I nod, following his directions and spotting the willow tree easily. I pull up the car, turn the ignition off, and sigh deeply. Jasper squeezes my hand again.

“Sorry about your car,” he says, giving me a shy smile.

“You don’t have to be sorry about that, Jasp. It fucking sucks, but at least I’m not dead.”

He smiles wider. “I’m glad you’re not dead too.”

Engaging the door release button I don’t respond to that statement. It hits me in the feels too much for right now, when we’re sitting in my beat up car.

He slides out and I follow, locking the car before I walk to his side. Once more he takes my hand, tightly gripping it as he drags me towards the front door.

He taps a key code into the keypad lock and the doors open to let us inside. My eyes boggle at the grand staircase in front of us, at the paintings on the wall–portraits of his family and landscapes–that are stunningly beautiful. I want to ask if he painted them, but he’s already dragging me down a narrow hallway on the left-hand side of the stairs.

“Come on, my room is this way,” he coaxes, stretching out his arm to pull me along faster.

I laugh. “Someone’s keen for some dick.”

“Shh, I don’t know if my parents are home.”

At the end of the hallway, he pushes open a set of double doors, yanking me inside his bedroom. It’s practically its own fucking mansion, with a giant tv mounted on the wall, a floor to ceiling window with a sheer curtain and a king size cast iron bed in the middle.

“Fuck, Jasp. Your room is a fucking palace.”

“Ah yeah, it’s my happy place,” he admits, glancing around at his space. He drops my hand, flicking a lock on the doors behind me.

I look around his room more, noticing the easel, pile of canvases–with unfinished paintings–and paint supplies.

He sits down on the edge of his bed and following I ask him, “Are the paintings in the hallway yours?”

He shakes his head. “No, they were done by my grandfather. He taught me all he knew about art.”

“That’s pretty special. I’m sorry you lost him at the hand of a Montserrat.”

“It’s not your fault, Ree. It’s not like you killed him.”

“Yeah I know, Jasper. Doesn’t make me feel any less guilty for the harm and heartbreak my family has caused yours.”

He bites down on his lip, glaring at me as though he’s lost for words. His gaze then drops to the bed, but he can’t hide the tears that are slipping down his cheeks.

“Jasp? You ok?”

He shakes his head, mumbling, “Mmm. No. You. We…”

“We what?” I ask, grabbing his hand and squeezing it. The gesture causes his gaze to lift and meet mine.

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