Page 62 of Jasper

“I’ve got you, rainbow,” he whispers, voice hoarse. “You’re not going anywhere. Not now. Not ever.”

23

JASPER

“Goddamn it, Fluffy—stay still!”

I grit my teeth as the gremlin of a cat lets out a yowl and thrashes at me like I’m his enemy. His claws dig into my arms, front and back legs flailing with the kind of precision that can only come from years of feral vengeance. I’ve wrangled violent men with less fight in them.

“I’m not trying to kill you, you tiny psychopath!” I bark, trying to wrestle one of his legs into the absurd onesie I bought so he won’t be cold. The fucking cat is bald, he must be freezing. “It’s pajamas. Not a death trap.”

Fluffy lets out another hiss and arches like a damn cobra, twisting in my grip. I manage to get one leg through, but as I go for the second, he claws my forearm so hard I’m pretty sure I see skin fly.

“Motherfucker! Ow! Son of a bitch. Fluffy, you little hell-beast.”

Blood starts pooling from the fresh gashes along my arm, but I’m too deep into the battle to back out now. I grit my teeth, growling as I manage to shove the other leg in and give the material one final adjustment so it’s in place.

He glares at me like I’ve just committed a war crime.

Panting, I slump back against the cushions. My forearms look like I tried to hug a rosebush.

“I’m trying to be nice to you,” I mutter darkly, inspecting the bloody mess of my arms. “You were shivering last night. This was a kindness, you little pain in the ass.”

Fluffy flicks his tail, clearly unimpressed by my attempts at mercy.

“Yeah, well, fuck you, too,” I grumble.

I’m inspecting my arms when I hear tiny footsteps coming down the stairs. I look up and immediately wish I could vanish into the couch.

Ariana freezes, eyes wide, mouth parting in stunned horror.

“Oh my God,” she gasps. “What happened to you?!”

“I—”

She’s already in front of me, inspecting my shredded arms with frantic hands.

“Did you fall into a cactus? Are those claw marks? Oh myGod, you’re bleeding! Daddy, what did you do?”

“I’m fine?—”

“You arenotfine!” she snaps. “Bathroom. Now. Emergency nurse mode activated.”

Before I can argue, she grabs my wrist and pulls me to my feet with surprising strength. I follow her upstairs to our bedroom, then into the bathroom.

“Are you saying we’re going to roleplay, rainbow? You going to be my nurse?”

She blushes and shoves me onto the closed toilet lid and starts rummaging through the bathroom cabinet like a woman on a mission.

Bandages. Gauze. Antiseptic spray. I swear she grabs the glittery rainbow bandages I bought for her.

“Sit still,” she instructs, crouching in front of me. “And don’t be a baby.”

“I wasn’t planning on it,” I mutter. Then she swabs a cut on my wrist, and the sting makes me hiss. “Okay, maybe just a medium-sized baby.”

Right then, Fluffy walks in, still clearly unimpressed by his new outfit.

A slow grin spreads across her face. “You dressed my cat?”

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