Page 69 of Take

JASPER PACED.

I watched from the bed, my legs crossed beneath me as he strode back and forth like a caged animal. His hair was tussled and slightly damp from his shower and his jeans hung low on his hips, button undone as if he’d quickly yanked them on. He wasn’t wearing a shirt which I took great pleasure in because I admired his muscles that at the moment were flexed. And they were flexed because Jasper was . . . agitated. No, it was more than agitated, it was pissed off.

We’d been back at Xamien’s for a few hours after the long trek back.

Despite Xamien’s protests that I was too weak, as soon as we escaped the burning house, I healed Jasper enough so I was certain he wouldn’t die. I’d attempted to heal him completely but it was Guise who had dragged me away the moment I began shaking from exertion. Guise was scary as hell in a quiet, subtle way, but I still fought him to get back to Jasper and finish healing him. It was when Holden and Xamien came and stood in my field of vision, blocking me from Jasper with their unyielding expressions that I gave in.

Waleron left as soon as we were safe. The tension between him and Xamien was obvious from their fierce glares at one another. At some point they’d have it out and it wouldn’t be pretty.

Jasper remained unconscious all the way back and I knew it was due to the blood loss. I could heal a wound and repair damage, even offer the heat from my own body, but I couldn’t give blood. But his heart beat was steady even though it wasn’t strong yet and he was no longer bleeding out.

Xamien flew Jasper’s rust bucket, Fiona, and I was less concerned about dying a fiery death this time as I was too concerned about Jasper. Holden came with us to the manor, but Guise said he was going to the hotel. Something about the waitress, Vee, and he needed to talk to her.

It wasn’t until I had him in my bed and finished healing him, with his temperature up that I finally relaxed. Holden and Xamien left me alone with him and I took off my clothes and climbed into bed with him, needing to feel him up against me.

It was hours later when I woke and he was gone. I panicked and got out of bed so fast I tripped over the sheet and fell hard to my knees. Then I heard the shower.

Now Jasper paced.

I sat on the bed in my panties and t-shirt watching the angry Scar assassin and I should’ve been nervous. Maybe even a little concerned about my well-being. Instead, all I could think about was how I was going to get him to remove his jeans.

“Jesus, what were you thinking?”

And this he’d said three times now as well as “you weren’t thinking” and “you could’ve died.” Freaking out. Yeah, Jasper had been on a rampage ever since he’d come out of the shower and saw me awake, sitting on the bed.

I think the reality of what went down had finally hit him and the initial relief that we were both alive had shifted to anger over how it went down.

“Seriously, Max. Why?” He stopped pacing to stand in front of me; his arms at his sides, hands curled into fists. “What if you hadn’t been able to raise my Ink? Did you think of that? Christ, what if you couldn’t have . . . fuck, I don’t even know what the fuck you did to Drake, but it sure as hell wasn’t heal him.”

“I did the opposite. I took his life from him.”

He stared at me a second as if contemplating, and then he swore beneath his breath. “You can do that?”

“Well, I thought—”

“You thought,” he shouted.

I shrugged. Maybe it wasn’t the smartest gesture when he was reeling because that pissed him off more.

“You willingly walked right into Drake’s arms—alone—with a plan to raise my Ink, which by the way, an Ink you know nothing about. You think you can manipulate your ability to do the opposite—to a hybrid ancient Scar.” He raised his voice at the hybrid ancient Scar part. “And then you refuse to leave a burning building. Fuck, Max.” He bowed his head and I heard him growl low in the back of his throat. “Does any of that sound senseless to you?”

“Maybe.” That was my safest answer at the moment and it had been risky, but I’d do it again. I was a Scar, a fighter and I was no longer going to hide.

I knew he wasn’t done yet, so I waited quietly on the edge of the bed as he ran his hand through his hair several more times. Jasper was fighting a lot more than what we went through. He must have faced worse situations over the years in his line of work, but this was him having to face all that we were now. His past clashing with what happened. Of nearly losing someone he cares about again.

But what I wasn’t prepared for was him walking straight up to me and falling to his knees, his hands gripping my hips, head dropping forward to rest in my lap. I stopped breathing. “You wouldn’t leave. Jesus, you didn’t fuckin’ leave.”

I put my hand on his damp hair. “Jasper . . .”

“Max, everything about me is ruined and sour and I don’t deserve you.” His fingers tightened on my hips and he lifted his head and met my eyes. “But I swear every damaged piece I have left belongs to you.”

Oh, God. Tears pooled and I cupped the side of his face. “Jasper . . .”

“Shh, not done yet, sunshine.” There was no playfulness in him and his brow furrowed as he kept his eyes glued to me. “You’re the stars that burn away the darkness, Max. That’s what it feels like when I’m with you. Like I’m all lit up inside with brilliant specks of light. And when I touch you, it’s like I’ve grabbed one out of the sky and I’m holding it in my hand. Flawless. Bright. And fuckin’ beautiful.” His hands slid up my sides and goose bumps dappled my skin. “I want this—us. To fall asleep with the stars in my arms. Then wake up with the sunshine. I can’t ever lose you and what happened . . .” He leaned closer and pressed his lips to my neck, then trailed a slow path up to my chin until his mouth hovered over my lips. “I love you, Max.”