Page 47 of Take

Whatever haunted him, lived and breathed inside him, he smothered it with his attitude, his flirting, his indifference, but he was opening up and it scared me because it made me want him more.

I walked over to the long wooden table that looked like it belonged in an old medieval castle and sat. Jasper placed a steaming hot bowl down in front of me and then sat at the end of the table two seats away. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” He took a spoonful of the tomato soup, and without looking at me, he ate.

I was stunned. Such simple words and yet coming from Jasper . . . it was different. We were different. And they weren’t just words; they had meaning.

Jasper was my mirror and we shared a similar darkness. He tried to hide it by being an asshole, by doing what he did so he didn’t have to give a shit.

I did the same thing. I rarely spoke, kept to myself, and didn’t get close to anyone except I was civil about it. I didn’t hurt anyone by how I’d chosen to live. Jasper did.

I didn’t want to care. I shouldn’t. I knew better. Jasper was clear about who he was and yet . . . he’d slid through the cracks. He was an assassin. He’d been a jerk and yet I’d seen a side to him that was genuine. I just didn’t know if I trusted him. Was he suddenly nice to me because he needed something from me? He used people. He’d told me that.

Was Jasper using me like he did everyone else?

His spoon clattered in his bowl as he dropped it, and then he pushed away from the table and looked at me. There was no cocky grin, no flashing brilliance of playfulness in his eyes; instead, what I was looking at was the man who had no compassion for anyone. And I hated it. I didn’t want to see this side of him.

“Yeah, I use people.” Oh, God, he’d read my thoughts. Horror crushed me like a hammer and I saw the hurt in his grey eyes. “You want the real? I get paid to kill people. Those I don’t kill, I use for my own benefit. And you know what, princess, I don’t give a shit if you trust me, actually it’s better you don’t. ” His lips curled into a cruel smile and a shiver tap danced across my skin, and it wasn’t from desire this time. “What? You don’t like knowing you fucked an asshole? Well, too late for that, sunshine. You did.”

“Why do you do this? It’s like a light switch you turn on and off. I never know which side of you I’m going to get.” I pushed the bowl away and it sloshed over the sides and splattered onto the table. “I don’t understand you.” I had to get away from him. From me. From everything I was feeling.

I knew what he was doing. He wanted me to hate him. It was how he protected himself, to drive people away. Well, it was working because tears welled and I needed to escape before he saw them.

Jumping to my feet, I headed for the door. I was suffocating under everything that was happening. I was a job to him; an object to Drake; a liability to everyone.

“Where the fuck are you going?” he asked.

I managed to get the door halfway open before he came up behind me and his palm slammed it shut. He grabbed my arm and yanked me around to face him then pressed into me so his chest was up against mine. “Where the fuck do you think you’re going?”

“Away from you.” I tried to shrug his hand off my arm, but he tightened his hold.

“You’re not going anywhere.”

“What are you going to do . . . force me to stay? You don’t have that power, Jasper. I’m not a prisoner.”

“You sure about that, sunshine?” he shot back.

I eyed his bag on the couch a few feet away where my blades were. He followed my gaze and then grabbed my chin. “Are we going to have an issue here?”

“We’ve had an issue since the day we met.”

“Yeah, I’ve wanted you. And I’m not letting you go.”

I had no idea if he meant as in not letting me walk out the door or more than that, but at that moment, I didn’t care. I just wanted to escape all of it. For years, I’d been dead to emotions and it was like everything inside me was exploding.

I raised my hand to push him away, but he moved to the right and then used the movement to push into my side and lift me up so I hung over his shoulder. “Jasper!”

He ignored me and strode through the house and down a hall. He stopped for a second, opened a cupboard and shuffled around. I pounded on his back with my fists and tried to kick him, but he was holding my legs with one arm.

“Jasper, let me go.”

He started walking again, then opened a door and kicked it shut with the heel of his foot. He threw me down on the bed and I scrambled to get up, but he latched onto my ankle and dragged me back. Pulling me up to the headboard, lying on top of me, I squirmed underneath him.

“What are you doing? Jasper.”

“Making sure you don’t leave.”

Then I saw it.