Page 17 of Jasper

He turns, smirking like the devil himself. “Now stay.”

My jaw drops. “You absolute crazy person! You can’t just throw me in here like a sack of potatoes and expect me to obey!”

“I’m not crazy, rainbow. I’m psychotic. There’s a clear difference.” Then he slams the door shut.

Oh, great. Like that makes me feel any better.

* * *

“Where are you taking me?”

“To my home.”

“You’re driving deeper into the woods. Yet you don’t want me living in the woods.”

Jasper shrugs. “I have an actual house. With heat. And sturdy locks. And fucking food in the cupboards.”

I glare at him. “I have food!”

“Three cans of soup, some crackers, and a jar of peanut butter aren’t sufficient food, rainbow.”

It’s kept me alive. Although based on the way his jaw is flexing, I don’t think it would be wise to say that out loud.

“I don’t know you. You might actually be a murderer. Are you going to take me into your woodshed and chop me into bits? I saw that Criminal Minds episode.”

He tightens his grip on the steering wheel as he maneuvers the truck through a dirt trail. “What the fuck? No more watching that show. It’s too scary for you.”

I blink several times, trying to figure him out. Did he just forbid me from watching a TV show? As if he has some sort of say?

“Why are you taking me? You don’t know me. I might have a boyfriend who is going to come looking for me. He’ll kill you when he finds you.”

This time, Jasper chuckles. “I’d like to see him try.”

Crap.

I’m being held against my will, driven deeper into the forest, with a man who looks terrifying. And instead of being scared, I keep glancing around, waiting to see Jasper’s house pop into view. Maybe that explains why he’s so grumpy. He lives all alone in the middle of nowhere. He probably doesn’t have any friends and talks to wild animals. Yep, I bet that’s it.

“How old are you?” he asks, glancing in my direction with furrowed brows.

“Twenty-two. How old are you?”

“Thirty-eight. Is Ariana your real name?”

“Is Jasper your real name?”

His jaw flexes again. “Little girl.”

I let out a sigh and relax into the seat, which is surprisingly warm and comfortable. Did he turn on the back heat for me? Aw, that was nice of him.

“Yes, it’s my real name.”

“Cute,” he murmurs so quietly I think he doesn’t mean for me to hear. “What’s your full name?”

“What’s yours?” I counter.

Sheesh.

“Jasper Black. I don’t have a middle name.”

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