Page 74 of Jasper
I refuse to let anything threaten the fragile new family I’ve begun to care about deeply, or the child Jasper and I have sworn to protect at all costs. Whatever’s coming, we need to be ready.
As soon as I step out of the restroom, my eyes scan the crowded room for Jasper. I spot him near the back, right whereI left him, talking quietly with Slate and Mica. My heart pounds faster as I make my way swiftly towards them, pushing past the throng of bodies with urgency. Jasper’s eyes snap to mine as I approach, immediately reading the distress on my face.
“What’s wrong?” he asks, straightening and stepping closer, his voice low but filled with authority. Slate and Mica fall silent, their attention fully shifting to me.
I lean in close, my voice barely above a whisper. “I heard a male voice talking through the bathroom wall. He was giving someone detailed information about the club’s defenses.”
His eyes get big, but before he can speak, I say nervously, “Jas, you were right, you said someone was spying on us from the inside.”
A tense silence stretches between us. Jasper’s jaw tightens, fury flaring briefly in his eyes before he nods sharply. Without hesitation, he gestures to Slate and Mica. “Come on. Let’s find out exactly what’s going on here.”
Mica responds quietly, “There’s a tiny office back there, too small to be of use, remember?”
Jasper begins moving. “I remember. We use it to store cleaning supplies. The prospects and club girls use it all the time.”
Jasper leads us away from the noise of the main room, his hand clasping mine. Slate and Mica follow closely behind, their expressions grim. Jasper moves quickly, guiding us down a dimly lit hallway to the door adjacent to the ladies’ restroom. I keep close to his side, feeling safer next to him than anywhere else right now.
Jasper reaches the utility room door, trying the handle gently at first. It gives under his touch, the latch clicking softly as he pushes it open. He steps inside carefully, scanning every inch of the cramped space. Slate and Mica crowd in after us, their large bodies making the already small room feel impossibly tight.
The room is cluttered with cleaning supplies, extra bar stools stacked haphazardly in one corner, and shelves overflowing with club merchandise. I glance around, searching for any sign of recent activity. Immediately, my eyes catch the scattered cigarette butts on the floor near the far wall, fresh ash still dusting the concrete. A slight chill skitters down my spine as I realize someone has been standing there betraying the club just moments ago, all hidden away where no one could see.
Slate growls under his breath, his jaw visibly clenching. “I can’t fuckin’ believe this shit.”
Mica steps closer to the wall that adjoins the restroom, pressing his hand against the thin drywall. He taps it softly with his knuckle, the dull echo confirming how easily sound would travel through it.
Jasper looks down at the floor, crouching briefly to study some disturbed dirt and scuff marks. His movements are precise and controlled, but his facial expression speaks to his fury. Straightening again, he meets Slate’s eyes. “He’s gone already. Maybe unaware that Tessa overheard him.”
“I was really quiet. I didn’t flush or run water.” Feeling myself blush, I tell the rest, “I didn’t really need to go to the bathroom, I just wanted a moment to myself.”
Slate curses softly, rubbing the back of his neck as he glares around the tiny space. “How the hell did we not notice someone slipping in here regularly?”
“Because he’s a prospect,” Jasper says flatly. “He’s supposed to be going in and out of this room to get cleaning supplies and shit. Whoever he is, he’s smart enough to pick moments when everyone’s too busy to notice him slipping away.”
Mica nods in agreement, his usually calm expression now clouded with concern. “We have to find him fast, before he can do more harm to our club.”
“We will,” Jasper promises, turning to me. The anger fades slightly from his expression, replaced briefly by gratitude. “You did good, Tessa. You might’ve just saved our asses tonight.”
Pausing, his hands rub up and down my arms. “For future reference, if you want a minute to your fuckin’ self, you go up to our suite and relax. I won’t have my old lady skulking around the damn restroom to get away for a few minutes.”
I nod, getting where he’s coming from. His words soothe some of my anxiety, and his overt praise fills me with a quiet pride and reinforces the fragile trust building between us. It gives me hope that if we work together, nothing can tear us apart.
Without another word, Jasper steps swiftly back into the hallway. His expression has shifted, settling into cold determination. I follow closely, Slate and Mica falling in just behind me, their presence reassuring as we return to the crowded main room. Jasper’s sharp eyes scan the bar until he finds Onyx and signals for him to join us. Rock meanders over as well, when Jasper gives his father a firm chin jerk.
Within moments, the six of us gather near a quieter corner, heads bent closely together. Jasper leans in, his voice low and controlled. “We need to round up all the prospects immediately. Make it casual. Tell them we need them protecting thewomenfolk in order to free up the brothers on watch so we can finalize defensive positions.”
Slate nods sharply. “I’ll handle it. Give me five minutes.”
As Slate disappears into the crowd, Jasper’s hand gently rests on the small of my back, guiding me to a stool nearby. “Stay close, Tessa,” he murmurs. “I need to keep eyes on you until we sort this out. If you recognize the voice, speak up immediately.”
I nod silently, appreciating the firm, reassuring way he takes control. Around us, the bar buzzes with energy, club brothers and guests blissfully unaware of the brewing storm. I keep my gaze steady, trying to mask the tension doubling and tripling as we wait.
Within minutes, Slate returns, leading a line of prospects towards the bar. The younger men look puzzled but obedient, their faces curious yet trusting. Jasper steps forward confidently, nodding once to Slate, who moves behind the prospects, effectively blocking their retreat.
“I want all of you to hand me your cell phones and get on your fucking knees right now,” Jasper commands, his voice quiet but carrying enough authority to silence the entire room instantly. The music stops, leaving the clubhouse eerily silent. When I glance over, all eyes are on us.
Confusion flickers across the prospects’ faces, replaced quickly by wary compliance as they hand over their phones to Slate, Mica, and Onyx and then slowly sink to their knees. I watch them cast worried glances at one another and try to pick up on any shifty behavior. Jasper steps closer, expression unreadable, his presence filling the space with quiet menace. “Hand over all your phones. If any of you have backup or burner phones, I want them now.”
The order hangs heavy in the air, letting them know that Jasper is firmly in charge. After a brief hesitation, several more phones are passed forward, collected quickly by Mica and Slate. Jasper signals to Striker and Mitch, who have been watching closely from the edge of the room, laptops in hand. They move swiftly forward, ready to do whatever Jasper asks.
