Page 93 of Heartless Devil
“I’ll be right down,” I reply, grabbing my bag and shutting the door behind me.
“There you are.” He’s standing at the bottom of the stairs, smirking at me.
“Nice to see you, Jasper,” I lie.
“I feel like you’ve been avoiding me,” he says, gripping my hand harder than I’d like him to.
“That’s crazy,” I say, brushing him off.
“I’ve got you for the night now,” he says.
“What’s the plan?” I ask him, shaking off the dread I’m feeling.
“We’re going up to our house for the evening. We’ll have plenty of time to get to know each other. Really well,” he says, his eyes traveling up and down my body.
There’s no way I’ll get through this night.
I glance at my phone once more before shoving it into my bag. Still nothing from Cole. Maybe Cameron has talked him into ditching me? Maybe he decided I’m a lost cause? I don’t know.
I let Jasper open the door for me, trying desperately to keep from vomiting every time he deliberately touches me.
“To the house,” he tells the driver, before pulling out his phone and making a call.
I don’t risk getting mine out again. The last thing I need is for him to take it and read through my messages. I’m just going to have to put all my faith in Cole.
I spend the entire drive praying that he gets my messages––and he has a plan.
“Welcome home,” Jasper says, when we pull up the driveway.
I’ll never consider this place home. Prison maybe, but never home.
I reluctantly get out of the car, following him to the door. He’s on the phone so he isn’t paying much attention to me. I feel someone grab my arm, causing me to spin around.
“Does someone know where you are?” the driver asks me, his eyes flicking between me and Jasper.
My heart hammers in my chest.
“I texted someone and shared my location with them,” I tell him in a hushed whisper.
“Good,” he says before getting back in the car and driving away.
What the fuck?
“Is everything okay?” Jasper asks from the porch.
“Yes. I left my purse in the car, he gave it to me before he left,” I lie.
He looks me over, trying to decide if he believes me or not, and honestly, I don’t know how much of that encounter he caught and how much he didn’t.
“Come on,” he finally says.
“Where can I put my stuff?” I ask, wanting to get a few minutes alone so I can check my phone.
“Down the hall to the right. We’ll be sharing a room tonight,” he says, walking into the kitchen.
I make my way down the hall in the direction he pointed out. The room, much like the rest of the house, is white and cold.
I sit my bag on the bed and dig my phone out of my purse. I still have nothing from Cole. I triple check my messages and see that they were delivered, but none of them show he has read them. Panic starts to rise in my chest. What if he never sees them?