Page 15 of Fatal Scheme

“If you pull over,” she says, motioning toward me before continuing, “I’ll show you what I’m hiding from. Deal?”

Without a word, I look to Massi, letting him take the lead on this, and he only nods, giving me the green light to do what she asked.

This is his obsession, so rather than insert myself in the middle, I’ll let him dictate how this goes, only so I can be there to talk him down if he ends up on the edge of an impulsive, reckless decision.

Just down the road there’s a scenic pull off overlooking some mountains, making it the perfect spot for this little interrogation.

There’s only one other car here, nobody in the driver’s seat, so we end up with total privacy.

“Alright, show and tell, Carter, or I’m throwing your ass over those railings,” Massi says, and she sighs, scooting forward until her ass is barely on the seat, beginning to pull up her shirt.

“The person who did this to me, can’t find me again, or I’ll be dead next time,” she confesses, and my eyes widen at the sight of her bare skin, covered in what look to be welts, or knife slices.

They’ve healed over, leaving at least ten bubbled scars on her tan skin, and I immediately meet Massi’s stare, his face a mix of shock and pity – a stroke of empathy I’ve never seen from him before.

“Who did that to you?” He barks, the rage taking over as he skims his fingers along the marks on her back, causing her to jump slightly, only to then relax from his touch.

“It doesn’t matter. That’s why I carry the knives, and have to stay discreet. My father is the only person who knows that I’m here, besides the two of you, and it needs to stay that way,” she says, sitting up and covering herself with her shirt.

A few tears stream down her face, and I swipe them away with the pad of my thumb, moving along her skin until I trace a faded scar right above her eyebrow.

“This too?” I ask, speaking up for the first time since we got on the road.

She swallows slightly, nodding as she attempts to hold back more tears.

“It was supposed to be my eye,” she chuckles, a slight sadness in her demeanor, something I never thought I’d see from the girl made of steel.

“We’ll keep your secret, Principessina. I’m sorry for, uh, everything.” Massi softens, tilting her chin until their eyes lock, and I feel the sexual tension building in the truck, but I can’t will myself to look away.

As I much as I wish I was the one caught in this moment with her, watching from afar is just as good as the real thing, and I’d happily sit back and let them fuck it out because Lord knows this shit between them is nowhere near over.

“You mean aggressively stalking me, and the small crime of breaking and entering?” She throws her panties back at him, and he catches the fabric, stashing it into his back pocket.

“Clearly, you need someone keeping an eye out for you,” he replies, and that was a mistake because she immediately pulls away, the sass back as she rolls her eyes.

“I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself. I do not need one, or even two, knights in shining armor to save me,” she asserts, looking between the both of us, and I for one, believe her.

She exudes the same energy as Massi, and countless other men that I’ve met before, the kind that screams, I’ve killed before, and I’ll do it again.

“I want to be honest with you both, so I want you to know that I have two bodyguards with me, too. My dad only let me come to school here if I had protection, and I don’t want you to hurt them, okay?” She says softly, that vulnerability in her voice making a return, proving that whoever hurt her could show up at any moment.

“I’ve never seen them.” Massi sweeps a stray curl behind her ear, tenderly cupping her cheek.

“That’s the point,” she laughs, a smile breaking across her beautiful face, lighting up her baby blue eyes.

“They just let me break into your apartment, and follow you around?”

“I told them to. You weren’t going to hurt me, and like I said, I can take care of myself, Stalker Boy.” She leans into his touch, their faces nearly colliding like they’re waiting for the other to make the first move. “I don’t have any more secrets, Jasper. I promise.”

Her voice is barely above a whisper, and I hold my breath, waiting to see if they take things to the next level, or resume bickering like two little kids, either option perfectly okay with me.

Their dynamic is fascinating, and I’d gladly take a front row seat, any time, any day.

Now that she’s proven herself, and we have no reason to suspect her of anything, I have a feeling things are only going to escalate, and get much more interesting.

EIGHT

CARTER