Page 128 of Broken Pact

I’m not proud of it, but I use my size to intimidate her. I would never put my hands on a woman, not unless my life was in danger. But there’s this gnawing void in my gut, growing wider and blacker by the second that tells me it’s not my life in danger right now.

It’s hers.

“You don’t know me, Naomi. And whatever version of me you dreamed up doesn’t fucking exist. So let me educate you. I’m a motherfucking Reaper. I’ll stop at nothing to protect what’s mine, and make no mistake, Coraline Carter is mine. She’s the fucking love of my life.”

She clenches her jaw, her face turning an unsightly shade of rage.

I dip my chin. “Good, you’re listening. Last chance. You tell me what you did to my woman, and I’ll ask for leniency when the rest of the brotherhood gets here.”

Naomi’s mouth twists into an ugly sneer, her eyes bloodshot with true fear. “You wouldn’t hurt me, Jasper. You love me.”

“I don’t fucking love you. I don’t even know you,” I correct, my voice low. I tsk, the most condescending sound I’ve ever made. “You didn’t really think this through, did you? Not only is Coraline my fucking woman, she also happens to be related to the Prez’s old lady.” I let that sink in for a minute, enjoying the way her throat constricts. I’m banking on the fact that she gleaned the basic knowledge of MCs since she kept showing up at the compound.

She swallows hard, her gaze darting around like a cornered animal. "I just wanted us to be together. Like we're meant to be. She was in the way of that."

Disgust roils through me at her intention. “You’re my half-sister, Naomi. Nothing more.”

“That’s just not true,” she cries, tears brimming in her lashes. “We’re family. You’re supposed to take care of me! I love you!”

I nod, too quickly and too many times. “Alright, Naomi. Have it your way.” I take a step back and pull my phone from my pocket. I keep my gaze on the snake in the grass and call Hawke.

“Hey, man,” Hawke answers on the first ring.

“I need you at my lake house. Now, Hawke,” I reply, my voice clipped and sharp.

Hawke whistles under his breath. “I’m gonna go ahead and assume it’s not for another round with Carter based on the way you’re breathing into the phone.”

“Bring a couple brothers. We’re gonna have a mess to clean up.” I end the call without waiting for his response.

Naomi goes pale, like someone yanked the color from her cheeks. “I-I didn’t do anything.”

I point my phone at her. “Try again. How did you get into my house.”

“The door was unlocked,” she replies quickly—too quickly. She swallows audibly, sweat glistening on her forehead. “It’s not my fault. She was here, which is not how I planned this moment. And if you would’ve just answered my calls instead of sending me to voicemail, then she wouldn’t even be here.”

I step closer to Naomi, my patience evaporating. "I'm not going to ask you again. What did you do to Coraline? Where is she?"

Naomi's breathing turns shallow and rapid as she presses herself against the wall. "I didn't mean for it to go this far, Jasper. I swear. I just wanted her out of the way so we could be together, like we're supposed to be."

“Stop talking.” Dread claws at my insides as she talks in circles. She speaks with such conviction, like she’s the wronged person in this scenario.

I call Coraline, but her phone just rings and rings and fucking rings. I hang up when her voicemail kicks on. Maybe I’m overreacting, maybe it’s nothing. But this whole situation reeks, and something in my gut tells me this is just the beginning.

Me: Call me, baby.

Me: I’m at home, but you’re not here

Me: Where are you?

Five minutes go by, and it feels like a lifetime. Each passing second without a response from Coraline only amplifies the dread swirling in my gut. I pace the living room, my mind spinning with worst case scenarios.

Naomi shifts restlessly against the wall, her eyes following my movements. “Jasper, please, can we just talk about this? I did this for us. She was coming between us and our love.”

I whip around to face her, fury surging through my veins. “Shut your fucking mouth, Naomi. There is no us! There never was and there never will be. Whatever twisted fantasy you’ve dreamt up is bullshit. So unless you’re ready to tell me what you did, don’t fucking speak.”

My fingers tremble with rage and fear as I send her more texts, hoping she can just put me out of my misery and let me know she’s okay.

Me: Baby, please. Just text me back, let me know you’re safe.

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