Jasmine (10 page)

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Authors: Kathi S. Barton

Tags: #Erotic romance;Romance, #BDSM

BOOK: Jasmine
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“Yes. I wrote that one about a
year ago. There are five more books in the series. The next one,
Midnight,
comes out in about six weeks.”

“But you never said anything. You’ve
been writing my favorite books for…” Quinn flushed as she continued. “Christ,
how long have you been doing this anyway?”

“Since ninth grade, but only on
the market since you graduated from high school. I’ve been really lucky.” Her
family looked angry. “I never meant to become this great writer. Hell, I’m not
so sure why you guys even like my stories. They were…”

“They were what?” Nathan asked her
softly. “Tell them what you told me. They were what?”

She looked him in the eye as she
spoke. “They were the only way I could escape at times. The only way I
could…cope. There were times I could escape for hours, sometimes days creating
love and romance for the people in my head. I made things for them that I
wanted, what I needed to make the stuff going on around me so much…less.”

She heard the applause. It
startled her at first when she looked at Payton. He stood up and continued what
he was doing. Soon Sin got up, came around the table, and hugged her tightly
before she too started to clap. She started to ask them what the hell was wrong
with them when Shamus spoke.

“Honey, I’m really proud of you. It
couldn’t have been easy trying to deal. With the things that Lilliane has told
me it’s small wonder you had to do something to survive. But Jasmine
Blackwell?” He looked over at Nathan with a huge grin. “Way to go, man. You
must love helping her work out all those love scenes.”

“Hey,” Cain shouted. “If you don’t
mind, she
is
my sister. I
so
don’t want to think about her
having…she is not having sex. None of you are. Do you understand me? Not one of
you.”

Sin kissed him on the head as she
walked by him. “Of course we aren’t. And I’m sure you aren’t either. I almost
feel sorry for poor Alyssa, but her not having to endure sex with you could be
a blessing. Connor was born how now?”

The table became much like their
dinners of late. Loud with laughter and conversation, the sounds of children
and adults alike having fun. She looked back over at Nathan as he squeezed her
hand.

“They didn’t make fun of me,” she
told him, awestruck with the realization. “They seemed very happy about it.”

“Of course they are. They love you
very much.” He leaned in to her neck and bit her. “I know you more than likely
don’t want to hear this now, but I’m in love with you too. I think I have been
for some time, but was afraid.”

She pulled back from his words
whispered at her ear. She was so shocked she could barely speak. Before she
could wrap her mouth around a single syllable the food arrived. Too overwhelmed
to do much more than play with her salad she kept thinking about what he’d
said. She didn’t realize her sister Quinn was seated next to her until she
handed her Alba. She looked to her other side and saw that Nathan had moved to
where Payton and Shamus sat with Cain.

“Feels pretty good, huh?” Before
she could ask Quinn what she meant she went on. “I know that when I figured out
I was in love with Drew all I wanted to do was hide it from him and the rest of
you guys. But it doesn’t work.”

“He loves me. How is that
even…why?” She flushed when her sister laughed. “I don’t think this is funny. He
just told me that he loves me and now what am I supposed to do?”

“Love him back,” Alyssa said as
she sat down across from her. “I know that I’m a poor one to give advice, but
you’ve no idea how relentless they can be when they get it in their head they
love you. I tried to shake Cain for weeks before he wore me down. Just give in
and figure out that you can love him too.”

Jazzie looked down at Nathan who
looked at her at the same time. He winked at her and she felt her body respond
as though he’d touched her. She looked back at her sisters as Sin sat down with
them.

“I do. Love him, I mean. I’ve been
in love with him since he started working for you. But I never…I was trying to
tell myself that I’d be happy with him just from afar. But…I guess I was
fooling myself.”

Alyssa nodded. “Really? I never…he
must have had feelings for you too if the way he looks at you now is any
indication. He looks at you like you’re Thanksgiving dinner and Christmas
morning all rolled into one.”

They laughed as the restaurant
staff began to clear away the plates and extra glasses. Quinn cleared her
throat as the last fork was cleared away. “I was wondering…what kind of family
discount do we get now that we know? And don’t forget that my husband is now
your lawyer.”

~~~

Ginny put all the money back under
her mattress and frowned. Something wasn’t right. She couldn’t quite put her
finger on it, but she just knew it. She walked around her room again and looked
at the small traps she’d put out. None of them were sprung.

The small piece of tape she’d put
over her drawers wasn’t moved on any of them. She looked over the closet and
saw that, other than dust, the string she’d put there to show that someone had
opened her door was still on the outside of it rather on the inside. She’d seen
that trick on some show a few weeks ago.

The guy had thought his kids were
stealing his drugs and had hung a small thread over the closet frame. When the
person opened the door the thread would drape inside where his stash was
instead of the outside.

The money was there as well. The
bags were a little moved around, but nothing she could prove that wasn’t
because she’d been sleeping like crap for the past two weeks. Ginny picked up
the brown paper bag of the money she’d just pulled out from under the mattress.

Ten grand was what this one was
going to cost her. Well, that and the money she’d promised him at the end. He’d
wanted sex, but she told him that was out of the question. She was saving
herself for someone else. She had no idea why he thought that was funny, but
she ignored him as best she could. She was to meet him in one hour.

The guy, Tank something, had told
her that he would have it done by end of next week. She had told him the girls’
habits and had given him all the information she had on Jazzie. The girl was as
habitual as anyone she knew. Tank told her that those type of people, he called
her lazy, were best to get rid of. They “mucked it up” for the rest of the
human race. Ginny wasn’t sure she’d call this guy human, more sub human than
anything.

He was huge for one thing. Not
like a fat-man-gone-crane-needed-to-move huge, but bigger. She wondered if,
when this sucker died, and she couldn’t help but think it would be real soon,
would they have a casket on hand or would they need to hope someone would buy a
piano and use the box it came in.

But he came with a lot of
references and, of all things, a portfolio. She’d been both aghast and excited
at what he’d done to some of his victims. And the pictures were put into a
photo album like some of Guinevere’s friends did with their grandkiddies. Ginny
had been particularly impressed with the way he’d made each of them look like
they’d offed themselves rather than someone had paid him to take them out.

“This one is my favorite,” he’d
told her of one really gory shot. “The wife had needed some quick cash to leave
the country and… well, let’s just say I provided her with the funds to do so. The
poor bastard didn’t know what hit him. That bad case of the flu had been a
stroke of good luck and the guy that I acquired it from didn’t fare any
better.”

She didn’t really care how he took
her out. She just wanted her gone. Ginny was also thinking that they were going
about this all wrong. She thought once she got rid of Jasmine Zinnia, as her
mother called her, then she’d just start taking them out two or three at a
time. They were multiplying faster than she could take care of them.

Money. It was all she could think
about now. All that lovely money. The first thing she was going to do was to
move into that big house. She wanted that house and all those maids and shit. Ginny
wanted to wake up every morning and have breakfast in bed then go to bed every
night with satin and silk sheets to sleep on. She’d been putting in a lot of
time on this and felt as if she deserved it.

She took a cab over to the
building she was to meet Tank at. The stupid car hadn’t started again. She
wasn’t sure how to get it replaced; she wasn’t spending her money on it. If
Guinevere wanted something to get around in then she could fucking ask Cain.
Or, she thought with a sly smile, let her fuck Cain and he’d buy her one. Oh,
she wanted that man.

Ginny had first seen Cain when
he’d been a teenager. He’d been helping one of his fucked up sisters with a
battered face. She’d found out later that Roscoe had beaten his kids all the
time and she hooked up with him to get close to the boy. But Cain had moved out
not long after. He’d gotten some sort of educational loan or some shit and
she’d only get to see him if Guinevere let her. That was another thing she
planned to take care of—Guinevere.

The woman had to go. She was
nothing but a stick in the mud and Ginny felt she was holding her back from
doing what really needed to be done. Ginny had never met a more whiny person in
all her life. And the fact that she’d left all the issues concerning the money
and the money-grubbing whore for her to take care of didn’t set well with
Ginny. Yes, as soon as possible Guinevere had to go away.

Tank was leaning against the wall
when she stepped inside the building. Ginny had the horrible urge to giggle,
wondering if the building was going to withstand his weight or would it come
tumbling down on them both as they talked?

“Been watching that girl. You know
she’s got some man living with her most nights? Gonna make it a bit harder to
get to her with him hanging around, you know,” he said as she handed him the
money. “Might have to give you a two-fer.”

“Give me or charge me for the two of
them? I don’t give two shits about his ass. If you take him out, then it’s
going to be on your own dime, not mine. The girl needs to be dead. How you do
it or who you take out with her is none of my concern.” She watched as he
thumbed through the money with his fat fingers. “I’ll give you the rest when
you finish the job and no one points their fingers at me.”

“I’m a pro-fess-i-nell.” She hated
the way he stretched out that one word like it was supposed to be funny. Professional
what, is what she wanted to ask him. Eater?

“See that you are. Do you have any
idea when you might make the hit?” She loved that term, it sounded so evil. “I
want her gone and if you do a good job with this one, I’ll use you in the other
hits I have planned. I want them all gone.”

He looked at her sharply and she
was suddenly unsure of him. Was he a hit man or an undercover cop? She didn’t
break eye contact with him, but waited for him to look away first. She wasn’t
sure why, but felt that if she had done so he would have lost respect for her
as a killer. That made her feel so much better that she simply forgot about him
possibly being undercover. Besides, who the fuck would hire someone as big as
he was anyway?

They talked for an hour more. He
tried to convince her that she could get a good discount if she sucked him off
and she assured him there wasn’t enough of a discount for her to do that even
if he were to give her the money back. She wanted to ask him if he’d even seen
his dick in a while, but didn’t. She was afraid he’d try to whip it out and she
was worried about his health. She wanted him to work this though first then he
could die any fucking time he wanted.

Ginny waited for the cab to pick
her up again and walked to the little cafe she’d seen there several weeks ago.
It was a nice place that served hot coffee in real cups and donuts that gave
you a sugar rush that lasted most of the day. She was sitting at a small table
by the window when she saw a paper lying open on the table across from her.

The money-grubbing whore was on
the front page. There was this long article about how she and Ginny’s Cain had
donated some god-awful amount of money to some stupid halfway house for
ex-cons. Ginny snorted. The only thing that ex-cons needed was a chance to get
at the bitch’s money, not some house where they were being taught the way
things were going to be from now on and to be told that they needed to stay out
of prison. Really? No shit, dumb ass. She knew that Roscoe hadn’t been in one
of those houses and he’d turned out all right. If the whore had given him the
money he’d still be alive right now.

By the time her cab came to get
her she was pissed again. She needed to get these people gone so that she could
show these cock-suckers what to do with all that cash. She wouldn’t be donating
any of it to anyone unless it was to a charity of her own. She was getting into
the cab when she thought of a perfect name.
“I Fucking Did it My Way and
Still Came Out Smelling Like a Rose Charity.”

Chapter 10

 

Jasmine Blackwell was outted the
next morning.

Jazzie was glad that Nathan had
spent the night when she opened the paper the next morning and read the
headline. Didn’t these people have anything better to report as the top news
story, she wondered? The length of the article made her cringe and Nathan
turned from cooking their breakfast when she moaned.

“At least they spelled your name
right.” She glared at him and he laughed. “Look, you knew this was going to
happen. At least now your family will be there for you.”

She looked back at the bold headline.
HBO WANTS OUR JASMINE BLACKWELL’S BOOKS. She wondered when she’d become their
Jasmine,
but simply read the story out loud to Nathan.

“‘Jasmine Waite, our own little
shy girl, has just announced that she is
the
Jasmine Blackwell, author
of the naughty books
The Main Characters
. Miss Waite could not be
reached for comment.’” She looked up from the first paragraph. “That’s because
Miss Waite wasn’t privy to this thing.” She continued reading when Nathan
kissed her nose. “‘Couldn’t be reached for comment to talk about the HBO series
that they want to run on her books this fall.’ I wasn’t aware they’d set a date
yet,” she told Nathan as he set a plate of waffles in front of her.

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