Page 34 of Fatal Scheme

To fix Tyson, I need to help Jasper, so I ravage the shelves, looking for anything that I can use to stop the bleeding.

“Flesh … wounds,” Jasper coughs out, and I lean down, his lips right against my ear, but he doesn't say anything more, lulling in and out of consciousness.

I’m frazzled, from the fire fight, down to the fact that one of my men is bleeding out in front of me, but I find it within myself to stand up, to use my hands to find medical supplies, and will my feet to keep moving.

Finally, I come across a first aid kit, the bare minimum inside, but there’s a few useful things I can use to keep pressure on Jasper’s wounds and clean them up.

“This is going to hurt, and I’m so fucking sorry,” I say, dumping a small bottle of peroxide into Jasper’s wounds, cleaning the debris and blood away with a small gauze pad.

He screams out in pain, coming back to consciousness as I begin to work on the shoulder wound, and his hands grip my waist, keeping me in place as I realize how hard I was shaking.

“I’ve been shot before, Principessina. Never had a sexier nurse, though,” he jokes, coughing as he laughs, and I shake my head, hating how big he makes me smile in an otherwise tense moment.

“Tell me how to help Tyson,” I plead, tears forming again as I patch his wounds, passing him a bottle of vodka I found as a form of pain relief while he pulls himself to a sitting position.

“Did he see my wounds?” He asks, a flash of pain in his eyes as he looks over at Tyson, who hasn’t moved an inch since we locked ourselves in here.

“Yes. I mean, I think so. He’s been on the floor shaking and I can’t get through to him,” I explain, finishing up with the graze near his elbow.

“He needs to know I’m okay. Bring me next to him,” he explains, and I soften even more as he advocates for his brother, knowing him in ways nobody else possibly could.

Slowly, I help him off the floor, using his good arm for leverage as we walk together, crossing the room in slow strides.

“Don’t you dare do that again, Jasper,” I whisper, pressing my forehead to his as we slink down the wall together, tears slipping down my cheeks as I finally allow myself to feel what’s happening.

This ride we’ve found ourselves may have started because of the games I was playing, attempting to win for my own benefit, but there’s no part of me that can live without these two, ever again.

They were my targets, but now, they’re my men.

“I won't, Carter, but you did so good. So fucking good. I’m so proud of you,” he says, pressing his lips to mine, a slight twinge of blood mixing with our kiss that only levitates me in the moment, sending me higher than I’ve ever been.

“Ty, look at me,” Jasper rasps, attempting to shake him out of this state, and finally, his head snaps up,

“Massi …” he whispers, fresh tears streaking down his face, and I can’t watch this without trying to help.

“Hey, big guy. You gave me quite a scare,” I say softly, sandwiching between the two of them, all parts of our bodies touching, but I’m exactly where I belong.

“I’m sorry, Carter. I’m bad with blood, especially when this idiot gets shot,” he confesses, and I nod along, allowing him to vent in whatever ways he needs.

“Next time, tell me how to help you, okay? I have a feeling this is far from over.” I swipe my fingers under his eyes, erasing the tears I can’t stand to see.

After a few moments, Tyson settles down, resting his head on my shoulder while I stroke his hair in calm, concentrated circles.

Sneaking a peek at Jasper, I notice that he’s slightly pale, but overall doing okay – considering two bullets just ripped through his flesh.

“And you,” I start, pointing my finger right into Jasper’s face. “Never doubt me, my abilities, or my aim again, Stalker Boy,” I laugh, finally feeling like I’ve proven my dedication to them, and maybe even shocking myself, too.

“Never again, my incredible little sharp shooter.” He swipes at my cheeks, the blood stains coating his skin, and I watch in awe as he licks his fingers clean, the sight before me almost too much to bear.

“Jasper … fuck me while I’m covered in your blood,” I rasp, not bothering to play coy or hide how fucking turned on I am by the fact that the crimson-stained liquid is covering the majority of my upper body.

“You’re fucking sick and twisted, Principessina. Lucky for you, so am I,” he breathes, roughly grabbing my arms until I’m straddling his lap, immediately placing rough kisses along my cheek, trailing down my neck and over my collarbone.

“Be careful with your arm,” I warn, but he only ravages my body with more hunger, the pain from the gunshots not affecting his ability to pleasure me beyond my wildest dreams.

“Is my little nurse worried about me?” He asks, leaning back to look into my eyes but when our gaze meets, his usual icy stare is pure black, the adrenaline and lust combining to completely overshadow his irises.

“It’d be a shame to ruin such a good patch job,” I breathe, the murderous look in his eyes sending hot shots of lust through my body like a strike of lightning.