Page 72 of Carnival
“I’m scared,’’ I whisper. “I’m scared you’ll be right, yet again. If he finds someone else to obsess over, where does that leave me? Back to the beginning, the very place I don’t want to go back to.’’
“Then, don’t let him.’’
I blink. “What?”
She shrugs. “Be just as unpredictable, Rose. Keep him on his toes — keep him obsessed. Make him go mad, insane even. Make yourself the brightest star in his sky, the one he can’t ever look away from.’’
27
James
“This is her past week.’’
Casper tosses a thick file toward me, and I grab it, the chains around my wrists jiggling. My eyes flick toward his, and he’s passive, though I can tell he’s getting annoyed from following her around twenty-four hours a day. If he’s not near, someone else is, and she’s never unsupervised.
The file is packed with printed-out images from various places: her university, the park she took a walk in, and those stupidly irritating studying sessions she seems to be having as of late. Not only does it piss me off that there’s a man who’s so desperate for her attention, but it pisses me off that she doesn’t know who he is.
One photo grabs my attention.
Rosalie’s sitting on the bench in the park, next to Aria. She’s dressed in thicker clothes, but nothing short of fashionable. Her tastes may have changed over the past two years, but she alwayslooks like she came straight out of a magazine. Hair, makeup, and clothes to perfection.
It’s zoomed in, and her eyes are focused on the camera, almost as if she’d spotted it. Rosalie Ashford is a stunning woman, but there’s something far more alluring.
Her beauty is like rays of sunshine wrapped in a thick, callous storm. The light lurks beneath, peeking through the thick grey clouds. And when she smiles? It’s like the brightest star reborn, as if her whole purpose in life is to outshine everyone, to light up the world.
“Anything to report?” I ask, tapping the image with my index finger. Despite directing the question to my friend, I can’t tear my gaze off the image. There’s a slight smile on Rose’s face, and I’m getting fucking pissed that it’s not directed toward me.
She should only smile for me.
“Actually…’’ he responds, then takes a seat across from me. I force my eyes away from the image, then look at him. “Yes. But before you let your anger consume you, I need you to listen.’’
“Speak,’’ I say, jaw clenching.
“Approximately an hour ago, Aria De Santis went to her uncles and requested you to be released.’’
Immediately, I straighten in my seat. “Why?”
“Rosalie was kidnapped.’’
“What the fuck did you just say?”
Casper takes a deep breath. “Rosalie was kidnapped.’’
I don’t allow myself to process his words. I lunge for him across the table that’s separating us, and my hands immediately wrap around his throat. His eyes bulge out ever so slightly, a gasp coming from his mouth.
My fingers tighten around his neck, my nails digging into his flesh, slightly drawing blood. All reason leaves my body as I stare into his pleading eyes, and no matter how much I’d like to pull back and listen to him, my mind doesn’t allow it.
Casper’s face gets red, his hands clawing at my wrists to try and pry me off him, but it’s futile — my anger always fuels my strength, and unless he pulls his gun out and shoots me where I’m standing, nothing’s getting me off him.
“James,’’ he croaks, a blood vessel bursting in his right eye. “I can’t breathe.’’
“Evidently, you can,’’ I hiss, squeezing his throat. “Give me one good reason I shouldn’t kill you here, motherfucker. You had one job. One. Fucking. Job. And it was to keep an eye out for her, not let her get fucking kidnapped!’’
“It wasn’t Vivian,’’ he manages to utter, and I can barely hear him over the sound of my rapid heartbeat. I falter for a moment, loosening the grip enough for him to breathe in. Casper takes advantage of the situation to shove me back into my chair, and I don’t struggle against his hold.
“Jesus fucking Christ,’’ he gasps. “You’re one insane motherfucker. Why am I putting up with your mad-ass self?”
“Casper,’’ I warn, my tone low. “Speak before I pull your tongue out.’’
