New Moon

Jasper POV

*Where's My Love - slowed by SYML*

"I'm home, darlin', and I'm messy!" I shake my head with a chuckle as I shuck the admittedly tattered remains of the rest of my clothing and walk into the house.

I freeze as soon as I make it across the threshold. I know she's gone by instinct, never mind when I taste the empty air and hear no signs of life.

"Alice!?" I blur around the house just in case, going so far as to check under the beds, behind curtains, and in the dryer.

Where the hell could she have gone? Why would she leave? Has someone taken her?!

This time, I practically move at a snail's pace around the house and surrounding area. I scent the air, feel for emotions, check for shoe- or -footprints, tire marks — anything that might tell me where my wife has gone. Even the wildlife seems undisturbed, as if bearing no witness to any recent horrors.

The Camaro is still in the garage, and I try to distract myself by admiring its sleek but muscular build. My Alice had gifted it to me the very year of its first production in 1969.

It was designed specifically for drag racing — a sport we greatly enjoyed, even more so once we got to participate ourselves — so she'd put a call in to the big wigs at Chevy's Central Office just to buy it.

We'd been with the Cullens for 21 years at that point. She'd said I deserved it, not only for how hard I was working to stick to my new diet but so we could have our own wheels.

She'd even found the car in "glacier blue," a color she'd said was the closest match to my once human eyes. I'd been taken by complete shock and awe, of course, even as much as the Cullens. Her revelation that she'd had a few rare glimpses of me even in my own hunan days — way before she'd even been born, let alone turned immortal — didn't help. None of us were sure how that worked, so we all chalked it up to us being mates.

At the thought of her, my Alice, an ache blooms through my chest from the center of my unbeating heart. I grab at my skin, wishing I could tear out the offending organ. As if it would do any good.

No, I wouldn't be whole again until she was back, until I held her in my arms and had ensured for myself that she was okay.

The ache in my chest broadens, slinking through my empty veins to fill my empty body. It invades my mind, conjuring up thoughts of horrors only a few of my kind could understand — vampire wars similar to the ones I myself had been brought up in as a newborn vampire, vengeance from beyond the grave in the form of a still-living mate, or the Volturi. They were all within the realm of possibility, and yet none of them made any inkling of sense.

I'd left the vampire wars almost two centuries ago, and even when we'd encountered Maria again, she and I had come to a rather peaceful stalemate and had wished each other well. Even if my creator had wanted to hurt me, the world was a big place; how would she have known where Alice and I were? Wouldn't Alice have said something if she'd seen the other vampire decide anything?

Even the possibility of Victoria coming around nearly made me laugh. She wouldn't be after Alice or I — her fight was with Edward and Bella. Sure, the girl could track (though not nearly as well as James or me) and evade, but even if she'd become jealous over Alice being her late mate's singer, he was already dead and she was already a vampire.

The Volturi made the most sense, and yet simultaneously no sense. Alice would have seen them decide to come, and Edward would've called if he'd heard anything new. Why would they come here anyway, when we'd done nothing overtly wrong? How would they know Edward had basically broken up with Bella? What would it matter to them?

Blowing out a breath, I run a hand through my hair and went back into the house. I very nearly regretted it, as bleak and empty as it was without my wife's energetic and loving presence. But I didn't know what else to do — I didn't even know how long she'd been gone for.

One of the others might, though.

Whipping my phone out of my pocket, I punched in numbers until the phone creaked in my hand. Being sent to the voicemail of every single person that would've had contact with Alice made me hurl the phone out the door.

Were they hiding from me? Had they done something to her? Know what happened to her? Every new call I tried to put through was still met the same way — with an immediate voicemail inbox.

"Goddammit!" Flipping the coffee table over, I'm glad to hear it smash into the TV. We'll miss it, sure, but I have to take my anger out on something. And considering none of the other people Alice calls family are taking my phone calls, the TV seemed an okay victim.

"Where are you, Alice? Come home to me, darlin'." Dropping my head into my hands, I tug viciously at the roots of my hair, trying to distract myself with the pain.

Without the sweet relaxation that exudes from my wife — any emotion at all really — my own emotions take a nosedive. They're amplified, not only in her and everyone else's absences, but because she meant so much to me, because I rely on her emotional atmosphere so much.

Because without her, the darkness floods in.

Every little thing I never want to think about — the death, carnage, misery, loneliness. What all my hands have done, the lives I've taken — that I would dare to hold her in my arms, let alone allow her in my own presence.

The fact that I'd nearly killed her best friend, her brother's mate. Because I still couldn't control myself, even after fifty-six years. Because I was weak, undisciplined, or didn't care enough.

Perhaps I am weak — I'd never liked the taste of animal blood, had never developed its flavor palette. And all the absence of emotions from all the animals I'd ever drank wasn't enough to make it click with me.

And I'd known discipline all my existence except when it came to feeding. Everything I'd ever done had a purpose, something to further whatever plot I found myself in at that given moment. Carlisle was just about my only rival for most disciplined, but then, he had a couple centuries more wisdom and world experience on me.

Unfortunately, fifty-six years apparently isn't long enough to instill honest-to-god caring in me, either. Alice cares enough for the both of us, and plenty more — though I manage to put on a good front when I need to. Lately those times seem fewer and far between. Though, with every risk of danger anywhere near my girl, every threat even indirectly against her safety, my resentment and anger grows.

Maybe I can't care without her — maybe I don't have it in me, for anyone or anything but her.

Sure, my human years had been manageable, happy even, and yet still rather bland. Then I'd been changed, entranced into the darkness of war and carnage.

Some sick, twisted part of me had loved it, sought it as much as I could — wanted more power and authority, delighted in the jealousy I inspired by being the one Maria took to her bed. I looked forward to it, thrived in it.

Nothing could describe the rush of power I felt when I held the newborns beneath my iron thumb, their lives in hands. The pure and unadulterated pleasure when I was able to inflict any kind of pain on them. It was bloody carnage, full of betrayal and greed, bloodthirst and wanting.

But as things go, I grew tired of it all, Maria's games and paranoia. I'd escaped. Waded through continued all-encompassing darkness — loneliness, depression, and hopelessness. Until I'd found her.

My Alice was, still is, and always will be the brightest star in my universe, something I constantly revolve around and will never let die out. She's the wind of hope in my sails, the laughter and joy of living the best life, the party lights that shine even in the darkest of depressions. She's everything to me, the one and only good thing that I have left.

Even with all her pure, bright light and eternal optimism and peace and love for me…

The sun still has to go down at the end of the day; the monsters still get to come out to play. The wild will never truly be taken out of the animal. And that wildness, the monster? Those parts of me — the most depraved, jagged pieces that I keep under lock and key buried in the darkest recesses of the hell inside my mind — want out, to play with our pretty little optimist.

To see how much of my pain she can take before she crashes into the bliss of an orgasm. Take her away from here, away from them, so it's just us. Cage her because her fierce love for them won't be denied (no matter how many times they put her in danger). Slowly reintroduce her to the outside world, and yet always keep her at the end of my leash so she can't wander any farther than I allow. Scar my name into her flesh so she always remembers who she belongs to, feast on her bones so I always have her with me.

There's definitely something broken inside me. Without her, I'm not whole, merely a million shattered pieces that are beyond repair. With her? When her very own jagged edges fit perfectly with mine? We're one sick little puzzle, complete and whole in our own way.

A soft smile pulls at my lips as I think of her, wonder what she's doing, where she's at. When she'll come back to me. If she's safe, alive and whole.

So I do what any desperate man would and throw my hands up, curse any deity that will listen, and then immediately plead with them, offer up whatever's left of my tarnished soul.

"If any of you have any hope at all for me, for my soul, bring her back to me. She's all I've got, the only good. I need her. This world needs her. This world needs her because it's not ready for the likes of me without her." The darkness pushes at the edges of my subconscious, and I give into it, loosen the leash. "I'll bring all of hell with me to this world if that's what it takes to find her, bring her back. And I promise none of y'all are ready for that."

Apparently not, because my phone finally rings.

I blur outside to find it, still lost from my earlier temper tantrum. The South Dakota snow simultaneously brings me back to my senses, as much as it melts under my bare feet. As if the emotional hellfire I'm going through has given physical manifestation to my body.

Even the cold phone against my ear does little to cool my emotions as I push it to my ear. "Where the fuck is my wife?" My voice is a snarl of anger, masking the desperation and hopelessness.

"Hello to you too, darling brother," Rosalie snips right back, and I can mentally see her eyes rolling. "Since you've turned into Captain Sunshine who shits rainbows, I won't even make you apologize. By now, she's in Forks with Bella. They're flying to Volterra to rescue Edward."

"What the fuck are they doing there?!" Aro's face instantly fills my head, the glee he'd feel at having both Alice and Edward so close. Utter terror unlike anything I've ever felt turns me to stone, freezes me in my tracks. My knees buckle as I grip my phone in a tight fist, listening to it creak. "She's alone, he could hurt her."

"She's not alone, Jazz," Rosalie sighs, as if I've forgotten she just told me Edward was there with her.

That doesn't make me feel better, not when I don't know why they're there but I do know that when it comes to Bella Edward will pretty happily leave everyone else out to dry.

"What the fuck are they doing there, Rosalie?!" My words come out through gritted teeth, each one a low growl.

"Alice had a vision that Bella was trying to kill herself by jumping off a cliff. She lost sight of her for whatever reason, which is apparently the worst fucking thing in the world, so she took off to find her. Apparently she did not, in fact, tell you."

Rosalie's words encourage me a little bit, and I have to bite back a chuckle; perhaps I do have a fellow member in the "Not a big fan of Bella Swan" camp, after all.

"No she didn't." A sudden coldness seeped into my body, slithered into my head. All this heartache she's put me through for a fucking human?! Again!?

"I'm sorry, Jasper." Rosalie's voice is soothing now, apologetic, as she continues, "I told her she should've told you, that she was only going to worry you if she didn't. She thought it was best not to, that it was better to ask forgiveness than get permission."

I scoff and kick a pile of snow out of my way as I trudge back inside. "That sounds like her." Already, my mind is spinning again, counting the ways I'd have her begging for forgiveness, as she so eloquently put it.

"She knew I'd never let her go alone. I'd make a scene, probably get us killed. I'd rather die by her side than live without her anyway," I muse softly, looking around at the desolate house. It feels lifeless too, as if her mere presence animates it from the inside out.

"I know, Jasper. I can't imagine what you're going through. I'm so sorry." She pauses for a moment, collecting her thoughts or summoning courage or something. "Come home, Jasper. We have plenty of space for you here. We all miss you."

I can only laugh humorlessly and shake my head, though I know she can't see it. "We're in this mess because of me!"

"I mean… Not really. We're here because Edward — misogynistic religious fanatic that he is — thought changing his weird little human would be worse for her soul than trying to keep her human body alive around a house of vampires. That's on him, and I'll gladly tell that to his face." She definitely would too, and is definitely Anti-Bella.

This time I can't help my laughter, but quickly kill it with a cough. "What's his plan anyway? Do you know?"

"Alice wouldn't tell me, but I know my brother and he's one for theatrics, nearly as bad as me. I'm sure whatever it is will be… bad. Probably something big, in public, or even against the Volturi themselves. Alice did mention noon, though, whatever that means."

Which means I have… a long fucking time to wait.

She's safe. Alive. And if she doesn't stay that way, if Edward lets anything happen to her, I'll slaughter every single one of them. The fucking humans too.

~000~

Alice can't hide her surprise, not from me. I see it in the furrowed brow, hear it in her voice as she murmurs to Edward. Quickly recovering, she dances closer without so much as a limp.

The sight of her alone nearly makes my knees buckle as I suck in a ragged breath, pull her scent into my lungs. She's safe. Alive and well. Coming back home with me. Whether she wants to or not.

I breathe a sigh of relief at that even as my eyes drink her in, search for any injury I've missed, torn clothing, a hair out of place — any excuse at all to kill the lot of them and take her away, have her to myself again. Begrudgingly, so far, I find nothing.

Finally, she stands in front of me, within easy reach of my long arms. She's covered from head to toe, and I know I'll take immense pleasure in peeling the many layers of clothing off of her.

The outfit itself makes me freeze — she knew exactly where she was going, where she'd be. And I wasn't worth a fucking phone call, or even a note?!

Her sweet voice drags me away from the mess in my head, out of the tangle of emotions I've felt today, as she smiles softly up at me. "Jasper."

"Hello, darlin'." Taking her into my arms, I look over her face, search her eyes. She's dazed, breathless, body limp in my arms — trusting me to hold her, to keep her safe. "Been a long time."

She breathes only one soft laugh before I'm dipping her backwards, following her with my bending torso, pressing my mouth to hers. Quick fingers pluck the cowboy hat off my head and use it as a guard between us and literally everything else that's outside the bubble of us.

"Nice to see you too, my love." Her voice is soft, breathless with emotion, as she drops the hat back onto my head and cups my face. Hesitantly slow fingers brush over my cheeks, try to rub out the stress wrinkles between my brows and lift the scowl on my mouth. "You're just as lovely as always."

I know what she's doing, because I'm doing the same thing. Trying to distract each other from the pain of absence, and the impending punishment I'll take pleasure in doling out.

I've been careful to avoid her eyes up until now, afraid of what I'll find in hers and not wanting to explain the homicidal rage in mine. I find her gaze now, fall headfirst into obsidian black eyes that mirror the peace I feel at having her in my arms again.

Those eyes flare with sudden interest as I drag my lips along her jaw to her ear. She's still dipped, an easy weight in my arms even as I pull my hat back off for just one more moment of privacy.

"I sure hope you've enjoyed sitting down for so long, sugar, because it will be a while before you're able to again." My voice is a low, sensual purr as I pull back just enough to see her eyes.

The happy calm there is intensified by need, and a trace of fear. Good. Her delicate throat rolls with a gulp as she whispers, "Yes, Sir."

"Good girl." Kissing her forehead, I straighten her up and put my hat back on, again. I sling an arm around her shoulders and tuck her against my side as hers settles at my waist, fingers in my belt loops.

When I look back up after ensuring that she is, in fact, in my arms and not some cruel joke played by the deities I'd threatened, I find the Cullens' eyes suddenly darting away, looking at anything but us.

"Let's go home, darlin'." Without another glance backwards, I lead my dear and darling wife — my masochistic submissive — out of the airport.

The next time either one of us speaks, we're in the Camaro. "I'm so glad you're safe." "I'm sorry, Jasper." Our words overlap, and yet we hear each other perfectly.

Wordlessly tucking herself into my side from her place on the bench seat, she breathes a long sigh. I feel her gaze on my profile as if it's a physical touch. "I don't know what to say, how to begin to explain what happened…"

"So don't say anything." My tone is soft yet clipped as I shrug nonchalantly. I stare through the windshield, avoiding her eyes once again.

"Why don't you come suck my cock instead, sugar…?" Though it sounds like a question, gives an illusion of choice, we both know it wasn't and there's not. Not when we're like this, when Sir and sugar come out to play.

For the duration of the long drive back to our temporary home in South Dakota — "Because it's the halfway point between Bella and the family" — she suckles happily, sleepily. There's no pressure or even want for a blowjob, it's merely a typical comfort for us both. It's finally quiet in my head, for now.

~000~

*Black and Blue by Ramsey*

"If you ever even think of pulling a stunt like that again, I will chain you up to my side." Her mouth opens to argue until I level her with a smirk on my mouth and a glare in my eyes. "And no, there'd be no way for you to get out, because we both know you wouldn't want — you'd love it as much as I would."

"Yes, Sir." Dark eyes shine with anticipation and that same trace of fear from earlier as she kneels before me.

"If you don't already understand the absolute hell you've put me through over the last 48 hours, you're sure as shit about to."

My own eyes are hard as I focus on getting my anger, the feeling of betrayal, out. I can speak it as much as I want to, but I'm not about to punish her with it. She's got a hard enough punishment coming without me piling on and misdirecting my emotions.

"Stand up and come here, sugar." My fingers snap and point to the spot in front of my feet, guiding her.

She hurries over, wanting to get this punishment over with. Her chin lifts as she gazes up at me, fingers tangled together behind her back. "This is gonna hurt, isn't it?"

"Bet your pretty little ass it will." I'm still chuckling as I yank her between my spread legs, pull her into my chest. I bury my face in her neck, inhaling her, breathing in her life and energy. "It has to, sugar, so you'll remember not to ever do anything like that to me ever again."

As tiny and agile as she is, her fingers curve behind her back to skim soothingly across my forearms where I'm holding her. "Yes, Sir, I understand."

"I could've lost you — there were so many times when I thought I did, that you were gone forever." Pulling away from her neck, I nudge her chin with my shoulder so our eyes lock; hers are filled with tears as she whimpers softly. "That can never happen, Alice. I need you with me. I love you."

Adoration and devotion fill her eyes in equal measure as she melts in my arms. "I love you, too, Jasper, so fucking much."

Without further preamble, I grip her throat and pull her mouth back to mine. I kiss her long and deep, chewing on her lip. "Now take off my belt."

She does as she's told, fingers sliding along the smooth leather as she folds it in half and places it across my palms. Then she waits for more instructions.

"It is about to feel like I don't love you very much," I chuckle, dragging her over my lap and getting her into position. "But I promise I do. In fact…" Humming, I run my palm across her naked ass, admiring the canvas I get to color. "I do this because I love you, to remind you of your place with me."

She smiles radiantly at me, grateful for the reminder and eager to show she's willing to put in the work to make things right again.

As if that's so hard. I'd forgiven her pretty much as soon as I'd seen her, just glad to know she was safe. Punishment is still necessary though, and will make us both feel better.

"Are you ready, sugar?" Skating my touch along the crease of her asscheek, I give her the time she needs to come to terms with what's about to happen, with the consequences of her decisions.

"Y—"

The leather of my belt cracks across her ass, leaving behind a red stripe. Her gasp is immediate, a whoosh of exhalation, as she locks her body in place to keep from squirming.

"You will not ever leave me again." With every slash of leather through the air and every palm that covers back asscheeks, I repeat those words.

I alternate between fast and slow strikes, light and heavy, hand and leather. This needs to be over and done with so we can move on, and yet with every noise she makes I wish it could last forever.

My cock jumps excitedly beneath her, full and aching — a testament to how dark and perverted I really am. And when my girl drops to her knees and takes him into her mouth with a bruised ass and tears streaming down her face, I know she's my perfect match in every way.

"That's my good girl," I growl, stroking her cheek and holding the hair out of her face. "Even better because I didn't have to tell you what I needed, what we both need."

She smiles around the intrusion in her mouth and keeps bobbing her head, bright, clear eyes locked with mine the entire time.

"You took your punishment so well, sugar, I'm so proud of you." Pleasantries out of the way, I cup the back of her neck in my palm, thread my fingers through her hair, and unleash on her mouth.

She takes it all greedily, happy to be back in my service, but neither one of us is really complete or whole, peaceful or happy until she's in my lap with my cock buried in her sweet pussy.

We're chest to chest, our hands everywhere they can reach, as our eyes lock and don't blink away. "I love you." That's the new mantra of the night as I keep my pace slow, make love to my wife physically as much as emotionally.

"I love you," she pants softly, tears once again welling from her eyes from the force of our combined emotions.

But the human is still alive, so I know this is only the first of many punishments my girl has coming her way.