Playette

“Yes, I can do what I want, when I want.”

“So, maybe I can, too. Have you thought of that?”

“Boss, hurry up,” Carter yells out in the background.

“I wonder if he knows about Hemlock,” she whispers.

“Don’t you dare,” I seethe.

“Carter, tell Jasper what drink you just had?”

“Just a beer, boss,” he yells.

“Put him on the phone.”

She laughs. Shit! I want to spank her, fuck her, kill her and I want to do it all at the same time.

“He’s funny, Carter. Did you know your boss is funny?”

“There’s no going back from this, Isadora,” I warn.

“Oh, I know, Jasper. And to think I like you.”

“You do? And I like you, Isadora. That’s why it’s going to kill me to have to kill you.”

She laughs maniacally into the phone. “You can try, Jasper. But you will come to find I am hard to kill.” She hangs up on me and I look to Ace.

“No answer, boss.”

“Fuck.”

Seems I say that a lot when it involves Isadora—a lot more than I care to admit.

She’s going to be hard to kill, but she’s signed her own death warrant. And killing my men, yeah, that’s not going to be tolerated, for any reason.

16

Isadora

“He likes you, you know,” Carter says, while chugging down his drink. I have to look away as I like him too, and when I do my eyes avert to my phone which is ringing.

And one guess who it might be? Yes, Jasper.

“Does he?”

“Oh, yes, and he doesn’t like anyone. Not even me. And I’m his second in command.” He chuckles taking another swallow. “He didn’t want to let Mack in the family…” he talks about the dude I killed first, “… but I ended up talking Jasper into it.”

Mack needed to die, so I don’t feel one bit of guilt over the part I took in taking his life. Mack was fucked-up in more ways than one anyway.

“Mack was your brother?”

Carter nods. “Yep, he was fucked-up. Always had been. But we gave him purpose, and that helped him a little, even if Jasper hated him.”

“Jasper hated Mack?” I ask.

“Yep. But we were born into this, the same way Jasper was. We’re family after all, and despite what happened we love him, and the respect we hold for him is above the rest. It’s part of the reason we follow him with no questions asked. Ever.”

“What did he do?”

“You heard of his father?” he asks, taking another sip of his beer.

“He told me some things.” I tell him the truth.

Carter looks me over. I’m still wearing jeans and a jacket, though I did lose the beanie. “He told you about him?”

“That he killed him.”

Carter’s mouth opens, obviously not quite believing that Jasper confided in me. “He did. But he doesn’t talk about it.”

“Why not?”

“He idolized him. He was his father. At the beginning, his father protected him from his mother.”

“But he killed her, too,” I say remembering his conversation.

“Fuck! How are you here with me, if he likes you this much?” he asks.

I shrug, not answering that question.

“Well, I should stop drinking. My mouth tends to shoot off and I tell too much when I do.”

I wave the bartender over and order four shots. “Jasper’s coming here. So, let’s have some fun before the boss arrives. Agreed?”

Carter nods his head.

It takes six more shots before he starts speaking again.

“Did you know his mother?” I’m a little drunk myself, probably not the best idea because I won’t be on my game, but I need to get him talking and if I have to go shot for shot then I will do it.

“Yeah, she was a real piece of work,” Carter spits. “That bitch tortured him. You’ve seen his back, right?” I nod. “Well, that little piece of artwork was all her.”

“Shit.”

Carter nods. “Damn right, shit! That bitch was crazy.” He chuckles.

“And his dad protected him?” I ask, confused as to why anyone would hurt someone they love so much.

“Until he was thirteen.” He shudders. “Then his father, well… he stopped caring. Left his mother and Jasper. He would only come around Jasper when he had people to kill, so he used him for that… you know, to carry out the kills.”

“When was his first kill?”

“Fourteen.” Carter slaps the bar with his hand and the bartender walks over and pours us both another shot. I don’t drink it, so Carter drinks mine as well. “Yep, that’s some fucked-up shit. Right? His father lost his shit, too. The taste of power and money became so much, and so completely ingrained in him, that when Jasper turned eighteen he put a bullet through his father’s skull in the mansion. It’s why he built that place out back to live in. He hates that fucking mansion and his father’s room.”

“I have to go.” I stand, but I start swaying.

Shit! I knew drinking was a bad idea.