Jasper’s POV.
In the car, I punched the glovebox compartment with such fury the thing nearly gave way. I flung my head backwards in frustration and ran my hands through my hair. This apparent loss of control was alien to me. The only time I’d ever felt so helpless was when I woke up from the coma and was told I wouldn’t walk for a while— even that point didn’t get home until Mart came into my hospital room with a murderous look in his eyes. It all seemed to be happening so quickly, like someone had pulled the rug from underneath me.
Clinton came around the driver side after setting the briefcase in the backseat. “The video clips and pictures have come in, sir,” he said as he climbed into the car.
I was silent in thought for a while. “We’ll act on that tomorrow,” I finally decided.
“Sha
