Page 93 of Fatal Scheme

With my dying breath, I make him promise me something, the one thing he can do to repay me for this untimely ending, but only when I hear him agree do I finally feel free.

“Take care of our girl.”

FORTY-TWO

JASPER

He’s dead.

I got here too late, and now, my fucking brother is dead.

Three bullet holes ripped through his skin, one in the stomach, another near his spine, and the final one landing on the meaty part of his thigh.

Most of the blood came from the thigh, the bullet likely hitting the femoral artery, and I can’t do a fucking thing to help.

I’m sitting beside him, staring down at his lifeless body, my grasp on his hand so tight, I feel my arm going numb.

A very broken cough comes from beside me, and Carter nearly jumps, dropping Tyson’s limp hand and ripping the t-shirt off her body.

“He’s not gone, Jasper. I need something to keep pressure on these,” she exclaims, tears streaming down her cheeks while she speaks, but I only shake my head, unable to find the words to tell her to stop.

I heard his final words, felt the last breath of air leave his lungs, and anything more we do is just ripping away the only shred of dignity he left this world with.

“Fucking help me save him!” She slaps me across the face, bringing me back to reality as our eyes meet, and although I feel like I’m moving in slow motion, I strip the sheet from the mattress, tossing it to her.

“We need to get him into the closet,” I say, my voice finally finding itself, but she shakes her head, ripping into the fabric with her blade, placing one half on his thigh, and the other over his torso.

“We can’t move him, this bullet has no exit wound next to his spine. We could paralyze him, Jasper. Please, just … get us out of here,” she cries, her cheeks stained with Tyson’s blood, and I nod, obeying her wishes.

Thinking on my feet, I rip an automatic rifle from one of the dead men on the ground, shooting my way out of the room, and down the hallway to the right where Carter and I were just ambushed.

To the left, there’s a giant hole, dead bodies lining the ground of each floor, as my grenade was able to knock out the foundation and reveal the kitchen down below.

There’s not much time, nor am I positive that Tyson’s alive, but for Carter, I’d burn this fucking world down, and that includes taking down each and every man that attacked our home.

Before I can round the final corner that leads to the stairs, I hear what sounds like glass breaking, followed by Carter’s blood-curdling screams.

In an instant I take off running, not caring if my backside is covered, the only thing going through my mind being Tyson’s last words.

I made him a promise, one I intend to keep, and I will my legs to move faster, bringing the rifle up as I reach the door.

“Let fucking go of me!” Carter screams, kicking and punching the man who has his arms around her, his black bodysuit and mask hiding his identity just like the rest of the attackers.

“Drop the girl,” I warn, turning on the red-dot attachment, a bright target painted right in the center of his forehead.

The sound of my voice stops him in his tracks, his head turning until he’s facing me, and I can only imagine the sight he’s met with, my wild thoughts racing a mile a minute.

“I can’t do that,” he says calmly, still holding onto Carter with a death grip, even as she fights and claws with every bit of strength she possesses.

“Jasper. Take the fucking shot!” She yells, not meeting my eyes until she stops moving completely, giving me the chance to pull the trigger.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you, Son. Ms. Cassini, your father gave me strict orders to kill anyone who got in our way of rescuing you.” He takes a step backward, moving toward the open window, while Carter looks like she saw a ghost, her face stark white and pale.

Suddenly, I feel the barrel of a gun pressing into the back of my head, but my eyes never leave Carter’s, even as she squeezes her eyelids shut, the alarming lack of fight in her body leaving me in awe.

“Carter, what is he talking about? Do something! Fight, Principessina. Fucking fight!” I scream, my words coming out in a desperate plea as I’m forced to watch her be slowly dragged away from me, from Tyson’s dead body, and our decimated home.

“Jasper, please, you have to let them take me,” she cries, the sobs racking through her chest as she breaks her gaze from mine, looking down at Tyson’s lifeless frame. “I’ll go with you, just don’t hurt him.”