Page 75 of Jasper
“I want you to unlock every single phone.”
“Is this about the internal spy?” Mitch asks quietly.
“Yes, it is.”
Jasper’s eyes sweep across the kneeling men. “One of you,” he says slowly, his voice tight with restrained anger, “is betraying us to the Hyenas. And I promise, I’ll know who before the night is done.”
The room seems to hold its breath as Striker and Mitch begin carefully combing through the confiscated phones, fingers flying across their keyboards with grim urgency. Jasper’s eyes remain ever watchful, waiting patiently, dangerously calm amidst the mounting tension.
The silence stretches out for what seems like forever. Queenie comes over to sit beside me. “Are you okay, Tessa?”
I nod. “Yeah, I heard someone betraying the club and I’m supposed to be listening to see if I can recognize his voice.”
Her hand comes out to grasp mine. “I’ll wait with you, honey.”
I almost tear up, realizing all over again how close-knit and supportive Jasper’s family is. I bring out my other hand to cover hers and give her a tired smile. “Thanks, Queenie. I appreciate it more than you know.”
The room is silent, the only sounds the tapping of keys as the club’s IT guy and his friend work. The prospects remain on their knees, shifting uncomfortably, each one casting nervous glances around the room. The brothers look on from every corner of the clubhouse, arms crossed, hands near weapons, waiting to see who will be unmasked. No one speaks. No one moves unless Jasper does.
I sit there and wait as Jasper questions them one by one about where they’ve been the last hour, just outside the prospect line, my hand resting protectively over my belly. As I’m listening intently to their voices, the baby stirs again. It makes me wonder if he can sense the tension rolling through my body.
He finishes talking to them and is now mean-mugging them in the worst way. This man of mine is so angry that I can almost feel the storm building inside him. Jasper is good under pressure—restrained, level-headed, and clearly has his head screwed on straight. I have a strange stirring in my gut that whoever this turns out to be will not be walking away from the clubhouse today.
Mitch finally straightens, holding a phone aloft like it’s a smoking gun. “I think I found it,” he states. “This one’s had encrypted call logs that have been forwarded to another phone and then deleted. I pulled them out of his trash.”
Rock grumbles, “Can we get that in English?”
Striker quickly explains. “It looks like he started using his own phone, realized how risky it was, and sent the original contact to a secondary phone.”
Jasper steps forward, slow and deliberate. “Who’s fuckin’ phone is it?”
Striker doesn’t hesitate. “It’s Sam’s phone,” he says, pointing to a lanky prospect near the end of the line. The guy freezes, his mouth parting slightly, eyes flicking around like he might bolt.
“Where’s the fuckin’ burner phone?”
Slate’s boot presses down on the back of the prospect’s shoulder, forcing him to the floor. “Don’t even think about making a run for it,” he growls.
Jasper crouches in front of him, forearms resting on his knees. “Where’s the fuckin’ burner phone? I’ve asked you twice and I don’t like repeatin’ myself.”
Mitch speaks up, “I just pulled the number he forwarded that information to. If he’s got the ringer turned on, we might be able to hear it.”
“Do it,” Jasper growls. “I want to know what’s on that fuckin’ phone.”
Mitch calls the number. “It’s ringing.”
The entire room goes quiet. Jasper says, “What’s that humming noise?”
I jump up out of my seat. “He’s got it on vibrate.”
I listen carefully and follow the sound all the way to the back of the room. Walking up to a pool table, I pull the phone out of the corner pocket and hold it up. “It was vibrating against a couple of balls, or we might have never found it.”
“You’re a good woman, Tessa. Bring it to me.”
I walk back and place the phone in his outstretched hand.
He glances at the other prospects. “The rest of you gather up your phones and get back to work. I’m sorry but we had to be sure who the turncoat was.”
All the other prospects get up and smack the asshole who betrayed them as they walk past to retrieve their phones. Their expressions turn from worried, to annoyed, and then back to something approaching normal. I watch as Jasper begins scrolling through the phone. Without looking up he mutters, “Lock Sam up until I can decide how I want to dispose of him.”
