41. Jasper

My dorm room window screeches open, startling the bejesus out of me as my back is turned whilst I'm getting ready for bed. Reece tumbles onto my bed, and he looks an absolute fright, as though he's witnessed death tonight. A surge of panic rushes through me, that increases tenfold when Reece sits on the edge of my bed without even looking at me and bursts into tears.

"Baby? What happened?" I question, sitting down on the bed and wrapping my arms around him, pulling him to my side. He cries against my shoulder, soaking the sleeve of my white t-shirt. Seeing him–my strong, rough man–like this is breaking my heart. Something has to be seriously wrong for Reece to be at breaking point.

"Ree, please tell me what's wrong?" I plead, kissing his forehead as I pull away slightly and he looks at me, biting down on his lip. "I can't bear seeing you like this."

"Mal…he…got…he…" he stammers, his voice raspy and panicked.

"He what baby? Is he ok?"

"I don't know," he cries out, completely shattering my heart.

"What happened, Reece?" I practically plead with him.

"He got shot. I went to speak to Tidus about us, and Mal was there. It turned into a fight." He's calmer now, but his voice is low, just a whisper.

"And you left Malyk there?"

"I had to. The cops and ambulance were coming. I couldn't have any blood on my hands."

"Makes sense. Where's Tidus now?"

"Fucked if I know. I got out of there. Alaric will have my head if he finds out I was involved."

Leaning forward I wrap an arm around his side and pull him close. He nuzzles into my side. Weirdly, I'm the one comforting him, but I'm not hating it. Seeing Reece showing a more vulnerable side is causing me to fall even harder for him.

"I love you, Jasp," he whispers, glancing at me with a meek smile.

"I love you more, Ree."

"I love it when you call me Ree, and love it more when you call me baby."

I chuckle softly, murmuring, "Baby." Reece groans, and I silence him with a kiss.

A few moments later he breaks the kiss, sighing deeply. "Do you think it's time?" he asks, puzzling me.

"Time for what?"

"Telling our families about us, together as a united front."

"If that's what you want then I'm open to it."

"I've told my dad already but we need to get them in the same room somehow."

I contemplate what he's saying for a moment. It certainly won't be easy to get our feuding parents to be somewhere at the same time, but I know of one place–mutual territory–that we may be able to get them to attend in the guise of a business opportunity neither of them could pass up.

"What're you thinking, Capullo?" Reece asks, snark in his tone.

"That we tell both our parents we've heard of a business opportunity to buy Perlu Beach Club, and their presence is required there to meet with the vendor and present an offer."

Reece scowls. "That's a long shot, Jasp."

"Yeah, but it just might work. It's mutual territory and both of our families want to steal it out from under the Murphys'."

"Let's do it," Reece responds, sounding way more positive than I'm feeling. This has to work because I don't want to be without Reece in my life. Just the thought of that hurts way too much.

The conference roomof Perlu Beach Club is huge. There's a large table taking up the entire centre of the room, with black swivelling leather chairs that are truly opulent. Occasional tables line the windows, and sheer lace curtains graze the floor covering the floor to ceiling windows that look out to the ocean.

Reece is holding my hand in his and squeezes it. "Didn't know the Murphy's had this much cash to splash around these days."

"Yeah, me neither," I reply, glancing at my boyfriend and then at the wooden ornate doors that are creaking open slightly as though someone is walking past them at speed. "Must be old money."

Reece nods in agreement, drawing in a breath as the doors careen open and first my father–with my mother trailing behind–barrels into the room. He's already seething, and I gulp back the lump that's formed in my throat. This is not a good start.

Only a few seconds later, Reece's parents are in the room, and it's death glares all around, both of our father's gazes locked on each other in a battle of dominance without the exchange of words. My heart is racing, and my hand in Reece's is clammy. It was stupid to think putting them in the same room was a good idea. I'm afraid they're about to draw arms and shoot each other down for daring to set foot in the same space as each other. Although that would result in death, I'm not entirely convinced that's a bad thing. Reece and I could love each other in relative peace, but it would be at the cost of death, and that's not what I want.

My father's gaze finds me, his scowl deepening. "Jasper!" he roars, "What is the meaning of this? Why have you dragged your mother and I here?"

I drop Reece's hand and take a step towards my father. My heart is still in overdrive, but I need to do this. "I brought you and mother here today to confess to you both that I'm in love with Reece Montserrat and no longer wish to marry anyone of your choosing."

"What absolute trollop, Jasper Terence. You cannot love a man, and most certainly cannot love your sworn enemy."

I scoff, retaking Reece's hand as he steps up next to me. We're a united front against our parents. "Reece is not my enemy, father. Being enemies with the Montserrat's isn't on us, it's on you."

He starts to speak, but Reece's father bellows, "You're speaking heresy, boy. I've ordered kills for less."

"Cut the bullshit, father," Reece responds, his voice harsh.

"Bite your tongue, son. And drop the hand of your enemy."

"And what if I don't?" Reece taunts his father, his eyebrows quirking up.

"Then I may cut it off, and feed it to the wolves of Stockade Road."

Reece shrinks back, his bravado shot down by the literal words his father just spoke. Stockade Road is as far from the world of Vemore as we know. It's where the cityscape meets the forest and is said to be haunted by our ancestors who dared to go beyond the city limits. They met their fate at the mouths of wolves.

The room is now enveloped in silence and it's my father who speaks first, "Do you declare that you love my son, Reece Montserrat?"

The word ‘love' and Reece's name on my father's tongue come out as though he's spitting out poison.

Reece stares my father dead in the eye, responding, "Yes, Mr Capullo. I love Jasper with every piece of my soul."

Mr Montserrat scoffs, and Reece glares at him. "You don't have a soul, son. Like father, like son."

My father fixes his gaze back on me. "See, Jasper. There is no love here, and you will not seek it out. You're to stay apart and not bring any blasphemy to our name."

I stalk towards my father, my blood suddenly boiling with what he's asking of me.

"Fuck you, father!" I roar, shoving him hard, pushing my open palms into his chest. He barely moves, so I shove him again, practically screaming, "I'll kill myself if I'm kept from Reece."

My father barely flinches at my words, instead, he takes my hand and drags me out of the room. I only get to look back at Reece through the corner of my eye. He's crying and my heart is shattered. I don't want to be alive anymore. Being alive without Reece by my side is no life worth living.

I'd had to beg,and scream the house down for my parents to allow me to go back to the dorms. They'd barely let me out of their sight and had confiscated my phone so I wasn't able to contact Reece, and had no way of knowing about what was happening in the outside world. I was missing my classes, hating that I was going to possibly fail my art project–because I'd left all the supplies I'd needed in my dorm room–but mostly I was missing Reece. I feel empty without him. A shell of my former self. At first, I thought I was a sinner for being with him, but the way I feel for Reece–the love I have for him–makes me feel complete and whole, and expressing love is no sin. Reece is also my vice. I need him.

I can't have him now though, and I can't even leave the dorm room as my father has guards watching my every move–who know my schedule–and also know exactly what Reece looks like. He couldn't sneak in here right now even if he wanted to.

It's probably not a good idea to be seeking out Blaise right now when I'm in a vulnerable state, but being without Reece is painful. I just want to feel something–anything–for the pain to be gone for even a moment. Blaise is known around Vemore–especially in the university dorms–for selling all manner of illicit drugs, as well as prescription painkillers and antidepressants. Where he gets them I've honestly got no idea, but right now I don't care where he gets them, only that he can.

I don't have a phone, but Blaise is always in the dining hall for supper and that is one place I can actually go other than classes. I'll still be watched, however, they'll just think I'm talking to a friend.

I shove a wad of cash into my jeans pocket, as I tug them on and yank on a t-shirt as I rush out of my dorm room. My father's lackeys eye me suspiciously, following me quickly like lost dogs.

After grabbing my supper of spaghetti bolognese I spot Blaise across the room and rush over to sit next to him before someone else snags the seat. He always sits under the window that looks out onto the courtyard, and it's a popular seat if you can get it.

He nods at me, scooping a heaped forkful of spaghetti into his mouth.

"Hey Blaise," I greet him, screwing the lid of my bottle of water and taking a sip.

He gulps down his mouthful of spaghetti, and replies, "Hi Jasp. You doing ok?"

I shake my head. "No, I'm not."

I twirl my fork through my spaghetti, biting down on it and slurping it. It tastes good, but food isn't going to take away the ache in my stomach and heart.

"That's no good. Want something to take the edge off?" he asks, quirking his eyebrow up at me with his suggestive tone.

"You got any painkillers or Xanax?"

"Always, bro. Got both."

"I'll have both. Bring them to my room after supper," I request, yanking the cash out and waving it at him.

He nods again, grabbing it under the table and slipping it into his pocket. We both finish eating our spaghetti in relative silence, except for the slurping of the spaghetti.

* * *

Since coming backfrom the dining hall, I'm pacing my room waiting for Blaise to arrive with the drugs. I know I shouldn't be contemplating taking anything not prescribed to me, but I want the pain to go away. Being kept away from Reece has me so on edge I feel like scratching my skin raw to feel something. I can't cope with feeling so empty. If I can't take the pain away I want more pain–different pain–not heartbreak. Heartbreak is the worst kind of pain. It hurts more than when I broke my arm as a kid falling off my pushbike.

Glancing at the clock I notice I've only been back for about fifteen minutes, however it feels like it's been hours. Time is fickle lately. It's only been a week since everything happened and I was forced to not see Reece, although it feels like it's been months, years even. Even a day without him would be–is–torture I've had my fill of feeling. I grab a bottle of vodka from my closet. It's only half full and I have no idea when I opened it. It doesn't matter. It will go down like water anyway.

I'm just screwing the lid off when there's a rap of knuckles on my dorm room door. I open it to find Blaise smiling until he sees me. I'd stripped off so all I'm wearing is grey sweats with paint stains down the legs.

"Eww, dude. You could wear something."

I scoff under my breath. "I'm wearing sweats. Have you got the stuff?" I ask, glancing around him, up and down the hallway to make sure no one is watching.

"Yep, got you some extra…" he starts speaking rather loudly, and I grab his arm to tug him into my room. I push it closed hard, and glare at him.

"Seriously, Blaise. Have you no tact? Someone could hear you."

"Sorry. But you need to relax dude."

Again I scoff at him. "Hence why I need the damn pills, idiot."

He scowls at me, clearly offended by my name calling but I couldn't care less. I just need the drugs now.

He shoves his hand into his pocket, pulling out three tiny ziplock bags with five or so pills in each. He waves them in front of my face, a wicked smirk on his face that has me worried for a moment. The worry is short lived though, and I snatch the bags from his grip.

"Thanks, Blaise."

"Anytime, Jasper. Enjoy your high."

I plonk down on the end of the bed, and he sees himself out. I don't even look up at the door–hoping in passing that he actually closed it–as I open the ziplock bags and tip the contents out onto the duvet.

I have no idea which ones are which, and frankly I don't care. I screw off the cap from the vodka, and scoop up a handful of the tablets, tipping them into my open mouth before taking a swig of vodka to swallow them down. It burns. Kinda in a good, numbing type of way though.

I repeat the process with the remaining tablets, gulping down the rest of the vodka until my throat feels numb and my head starts spinning. I lay back on the pillow, and close my eyes, spreading myself out on the bed to drift away and forget about the pain of not being with Reece.