Page 13 of Jasper

“What the hell is wrong with you?” I shout as loudly as I can, hoping to attract someone’s attention from the parking lot. “You don’t get to treat people like that! Back off!”

The guy’s face twists in anger, red from the burn, and he takes a step toward me. I don’t move. I plant my feet, every nerve in my body screaming at me to run, but I don’t back down.

“You cunt—” He reaches for me, but I shove him hard, knocking him off balance. He stumbles, nearly tripping over his own feet. He’s drunk, slurring his curses, and I take advantage of it, pushing him again. This time, he falls, landing hard on his ass. Honestly, I’m surprised the ground doesn’t shake beneath us. The guy is as solid as a rock. I don’t have time to think about it, though, because before I can right myself, I stumble forward and fall, my arm scraping against the gravel, pushing my sleeve up so the cold rocks nip at my skin.

I yell to the woman, keeping my voice calm despite the adrenaline rushing through me. “Go inside. Tell Leigh to call the cops.”

She hesitates, but when the guy starts cursing again, she takes off toward a car instead of the bar.

I scramble up quickly, trying to keep my breathing steady while not focusing on how much my arm stings. He’s glaring at me, eyes wild and full of hate.

“You think you’re tough?” he slurs as he tries to get up, though he’s not nearly as quick as I am. “You’re dead, you hear me? I’m gonna kill you. You’re gonna pay for this!”

My heart pounds, fear clawing at my throat. I’m not stupid. I know I’ve made things worse. I take a cautious step back.

Crap.

When he lunges forward, I don’t think—I just take off. My legs move on their own, pounding against the pavement as I sprint toward the alley, weaving through the dark paths that I know better than he does. I guess it’s the one advantage of walking around here every day. Knowing all the different routes and hiding spots. I don’t look back. I can hear him shouting, his footsteps heavy but uneven behind me.

I dart through a cluster of trees, breathing hard, heart thundering. I keep running until I’m sure he’s not behind me anymore. When I finally slow, I’m gasping for breath, and I have to pause for a few minutes until I’m no longer shaking and gasping for air.

My camper and car are a few feet ahead, hidden in a densely forested area. Relief floods me as I stumble through the last stretch of trees. I’m almost there. I just need to get inside, lock the door, and?—

“Jesus Christ!” I yelp, nearly jumping out of my skin when I see a figure on the steps.

It’shim. The guy from the café.

He’s sitting on the stoop of my camper, a flashlight in one hand and a murderous look on his face. The beam of light catches his dark eyes, making them look almost black.

I freeze, clutching my chest as I try to catch my breath. “You scared me! What are you doing here?”

He doesn’t answer right away, just glares at me like I’ve personally offended him by being out this late. Finally, he gets to his feet, towering over me, his jaw clenched tight, and at the moment, drunk guy seems a little less scary than café guy.

“What the fuck are you doing living in the woods when it’s freezing cold?” he growls, his voice low and dangerous.

My mouth goes dry. “Excuse me?”

His jaw ticks, and for a second, I think he might actually yell at me. Instead, he mutters something under his breath and scrubs a hand over his face.

“Why are you sitting on my steps like some serial killer?” I snap, still trying to catch my breath as I wrap my arms around myself more as a shield of protection than warmth.

He doesn’t answer, just looks at me with those intense eyes, as if he’s trying to figure out whether to shake me or drag me inside.

“It’s freezing out here,” he finally says, his voice softer but still sharp. “Get inside.”

I glare at him, even though my teeth are chattering. “You can’t just?—”

“Inside. Now.”

I hesitate, but the exhaustion hits me all at once, and I don’t have the energy to argue. I push past him, yanking the door open, and he follows me without asking, shutting the cold out after he enters.

Fluffy meows from the bed, eyeing our guest warily.

“Pack up whatever shit you need. You’re not staying here another night.”

My mouth falls open as I stare at the stranger taking up too much space in my home. “What? This is where I live. And you never said why you’re here. I don’t even know your name. How did you find me?”

Slowly, like a predator creeping up on its prey, he approaches. “Jasper. And you don’t live here anymore, so pack your stuff.”

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