We left the Albertsons and drove back to the massive, secluded house where Nathan’s family had kept her hidden away. The place was dead quiet. We walked inside, and we finally sat down to talk about what had actually happened over the last six years.
Jasmine looked out the large glass window at the yard, her hands wrapped around a warm mug.
“I’m not going to lie to you, Rico,” she said quietly. “Sometimes, I can’t even stand to look at my children. When I look at their faces, all I see is him. They remind me of the hell he put me through.”
She paused, taking a slow breath.
“But I also know they are completely innocent. They didn’t choose to be born to a monster. I believe that if I raise them right—with love and proper guidance—they won’t end up like their father. Especially now that he’s completely out of the picture.”
I looked at her, my chest tightening. I couldn’t fully understand that level of strength. I respected her immensely for enduring his abuse for so long, but I had to keep it real.
“Jasmine,” I said. “You’re incredibly strong. But from what you’re telling me... it sounds like you must have had some severe Stockholm Syndrome or something.”
She didn’t try to deny it. She just gave me a sad, honest nod.
“I probably did,” she admitted. “After a few years, I completely lost hope of you ever saving me. I thought I was going to die in this house. But the second I found out he was dead? Rico, I couldn’t have been happier. He was barely ever home anyway. The kids barely even know who he was. There won’t be any lasting trauma for them, because they have no real memory of him.”
“But I gotta ask,” I said, leaning closer. “What’s up with you and the rest of his family after... you know?”
Jasmine sighed, looking back out the window. “They all started crying. I understand that monster was their son, but them taking out their rage on the real victims—which was Juliet, and you for killing him—is fucking ridiculous. They kept me under lock and key the entire time he was alive. It was basically like they knew that if I ever escaped, the first thing I’d do was contact you.”
“Ha,” I let out a dry chuckle. “Why do you even trust me so much? We only, like, dated once back in high school.”
“Because... well, you were my first everything,” she said, her voice soft as she looked at me. “But not only that, you’ve still been the best person I’ve ever met. My brothers were easily paid off. He won them over with money and favors. And my mom just wanted me to be with somebody who could keep me financially secure, let alone actually caring if he loved me—”
“So, basically, they sacrificed your happiness so they could be well-off from this rich-ass family,” I said, my jaw tightening.
“That pretty much sums it up...”
I walked over, reached out, and gently held her hands. “Well, I have to say, you’re a hell of a lot more selfless than I am.”
Jasmine looked down at our hands, a tiny, teasing smile breaking through her tears. “Ah. So you only came over here to see if I could get your sentence reduced by trauma-bombing the prosecutor, huh?”
I couldn’t help but grin. “Well, yeah. But I wanted to make sure you were okay, too. He told me all the things he did to you, and honestly... that’s what made me completely crash out and Swiss cheese his ass.”
“Well, consider yourself lucky that I was going to do that anyway,” she murmured, leaning forward and resting her forehead against my chest. “You’re a lot more built than the last time I saw you. Prison really changed you, didn’t it?”
“It was either work out or sleep,” I said, looking down at her. “That, and the occasional fighting for your booty.”
Jasmine let out a sharp gasp, almost laughing out loud. “Oh my God! Are you serious?!”
“Deadass,” I said, keeping my face completely blank. “I may have put a nigga in a temporary coma just for dropping my soap.”
“Awww, poor baby,” she cooed, her fingers running through my collar. “Need me to help you get rid of your 'trauma'?”
This caught me completely off guard. I blinked, looking around the empty hallway.
“Wait...” I whispered, my eyes scanning the quiet house. “Deadass? I know your kids are—”
She stepped in close, leaning up on her tiptoes to whisper right in my ear. “Hehe... Would it make you feel better if I rubbed your ego?”
“Mi scusi?” I asked, my heart starting to hammer against my ribs.
“You were still bigger~” she murmured.
Oh, word?
the voice in my head grinned, instantly locking in.
Bet. Say less.
I didn’t need to be told twice. I reached down, scooped her up in my arms, and looked toward the hallway.
“Where’s the bedroom at?” I asked, looking down at her.
“Upstairs, to the right,” she smiled, her arms wrapping around my neck.
I gave her a cocky smirk, turning toward the stairs.
“Well, you’re gonna need a wheelchair when I’m done.”
After we had our adult time, we lay in bed together. Jasmine was curled up against my side, cuddling with me as I stared at the ceiling with a confident smirk. I looked down at her, commenting on the love marks we’d left all over each other's skin.
But at the same time, I couldn’t shake this deep, nagging discomfort.
It wasn’t because I hadn’t enjoyed myself—hell, it was the best I’d felt in years. It was the fact that every single time something good finally came along in my life, some major bullshit was always waiting right around the corner. I knew this because it had happened to me over and over again. I was just waiting for the other shoe to drop.
“What’s wrong, Rico?” Jasmine asked, her fingers lightly tracing my chest.
“Nothing, Jasmine,” I sighed, wrapping my arm around her shoulders. “It just feels too good, you know?”
“What do you mean?”
“Every time something good finally happens in my life,” I said quietly, “something always has to come along and fuck it up.”
Jasmine shook her head, burying her face in my shoulder. “I don’t care. As long as we’re together, we can go through anything. Honestly, Rico... instead of you going back to Florida, why don’t you just stay here with me?”
I was highly skeptical. This massive house, and the people who paid the bills for it, belonged to Nathan’s family. They were my biggest ops on this earth, and they were already doing everything in their power to make sure I got the needle for what I did to their son. I’d be living in the lion’s den.
“They’re going to try everything to get at me,” I told her. “How are we supposed to keep this place if I’m hiding out here?”
Jasmine smiled, looking up at me with a quiet pride.
“You don’t have to worry about them,” she said. “While you were locked up, I spent months building my own business on TikTok. It actually ended up being pretty successful. I make more than enough money on my own now to support this house and our lifestyle. We don’t need their money.”
I looked at her, completely stunned. She’d actually bossed up.
We still got the darknet coke money coming in, too,
the voice in my head whispered, and for once, it sounded like it was actually planning a future.
Between her TikTok and our bricks, we’ll be eating like kings.
I kept that part to myself, though. I didn’t want to ruin the moment.
“But...” I hesitated, looking at her. “You know, I don’t think I’m built to be a good father figure. I mean, sure, your baby boy might grow up seeing me as his dad. But your oldest is, what, five?”
“Six,” Jasmine corrected softly. She reached down, gently holding both of my hands. “I know that, Rico. It’s going to be weird. Helping raise kids that aren’t even yours... I don’t think a woman should ever have to ask that of a man. Let alone when you know exactly who their biological father was.”
I’ve got a massive habit of doing this,
the voice in my head sighed, but for once, there was no anger in it. Just a quiet, tired acceptance.
First Juliet, and now her? It’s definitely a lot to carry. But you love her, Rico. So you have to accept her with all of her baggage, too.
I leaned in and gave her a soft, lingering kiss.
“I love you,” I whispered against her lips. “So I have to love all of you. Not just the easy parts.”
A few weeks slipped by.
Honestly, I never found out what happened to my old driver—the bitch-ass nigga who tried to shoot me over a slice of cheesecake. But knowing Pedro, and knowing what his family does for a living, the dude is either dead or currently wishing he was. I didn’t ask, and I didn’t care.
During those weeks, I finally got to meet Jasmine's kids. Her baby boy is named Lucan, and her six-year-old is named Blake.
It took some time for Blake to actually warm up to me, but we eventually got along as well as you’d expect. He’s taking the whole “new guy in the house” situation way better than I did when I was eight and saw some random dude railing my mother. Luckily for him, he doesn’t have that trauma. I’m making sure he never does.
For the first time in my life, I felt like I was actually starting to build some real peace. I was handling the darknet sales. I made my legal money on the side, and I came home to a family that actually loved me.
But like I said before... Some major bullshit is always waiting right around the corner.
My burner phone buzzed. I flipped it open, expecting it to be one of Pedro's delivery boys. Instead, a familiar, grainy voice crackled through the receiver.
“Yo, Rico,” Pedro said, his voice unusually loud and clear. “I just got released from the joint. I’m standing outside the gates right now.”
I froze, the air leaving my lungs. “Wait, what? How?”
“Don’t worry about how,” Pedro chuckled. “But I need a ride, dog. And I want you to come pick me up personally.”
I stared at the phone. My fragile little peace was officially over.
Yep,
the voice in my head whispered, locking right back into its cold, analytical state.
It’s time to go back to work.