Page 22 of Toy No More

Apollo snorts. He tilts his head to the side to hide a smile on his face.

“Sweet of you to ask, but I don’t have to about things like that. It’s been made sure of,” he says, but his tone doesn’t match his expression. In response to my confused frown, he lifts his sheer top and points at the barely noticeable scar running right above the line of his lacy underwear.

I feel the heavy lump in my throat once it hits me.

Oh.

My insides twist painfully. Before I can think, words come out of my mouth. “Was that something you wanted to have done?”

For a second—the same second I need to realize how wholly invasive and fucked the question I just blurted out might have been—something appears in Apollo’s eyes. It’s gone as quickly, replaced by his melancholic, fake smile. He lets the fabric fall back over his flat belly and rests against his knees to take another inhale of the cigarette.

I shouldn’t have asked if it was forced on him. Fuck.

As I stumble over my own thoughts while trying to backtrack or fix it somehow, I notice Apollo’s quivers. He’s been sitting here in the cold with nothing but the revealing, light excuse of clothes he wears inside, and he must be all sweaty from what just happened.

“Here,” I blurt, quickly taking my brown flight jacket off and putting it over his shoulders.

Instead of gratitude, Apollo responds with a disgruntled snort. Still, he clearly welcomes the cover because he shifts under it and hunches, holding it closer to his neck. Hesitantly, I sit next to him. I know he hates me pitying him. I can tell he’s the type of proud person who refuses to accept help, but I’m glad he does right now.

When he finishes his cigarette, he throws it out into the pouring rain.

My heart skips.Is he just going to get up and leave again? And why don’t I want him to leave?

I glance at him carefully, only to see him brushing his nose against the collar of my jacket. Apollo raises his eyes to me with a smirk, tilting his head to the side. “That’s kind of weird, you know? That you use a cologne so similar to the smell of your pheromones.”

An awkward chuckle comes out of me. “It…probably is,” I admit while rubbing the back of my head, looking down. I feel his gaze still on me. “Didn’t do it on purpose exactly. Maybe it’s some subconscious ego thing.”

He chuckles. “You’re doing pretty good. At this whole…being one of the boys, all alpha-like and stuff. You can barely tell you’re an omega.”

With a frown, I look at him again. There’s something hidden behind his words, yet I can’t quite place the emotion. I can’t tell if what he said was a dig or not. “I’m not trying to be an alpha,” I say firmly. “None of these tired stereotypes mean anything. We’re not all meek and weak, or that different from anyone else, like some want us to believe. We both know that.”

The bitter smile that appears on Apollo’s lips, with his eyes staying empty and dead, breaks my heart. “You’re right. Not all. Only some of us,” he says before getting up. “I’m better now.” His voice shifts into a more lively, done up one. “I need to have a shower and return to work. Deal with the…fallout with my handler and everything.”

I quickly get up as well, standing inches from him. I wonder if I should make him stay a little longer while I study his pale face. He was completely messed up when I found him. Obviously, he’s pushing himself and putting on a mask, so maybe I should—

“Don’t worry about me,” he says, looking into my eyes with an amused smile.Why is my concern so inconceivable to him?“This is what I do best.” Apollo’s words sound hollow. Propped up by an exaggerated determination and no doubt perfected by him saying them over and over again. I’m not sure he really believes them, though.

Somehow, I can tell. I justknow.

He wants to walk past me but pauses, opening his mouth with a sharp ‘Oh’. I put my hand out as he hands me my jacket back.

“Thanks,” he says softly, close to a whisper.

Apollo’s sweet scent sits on the fabric.Did he release his pheromones into it?Without thinking, I raise it to my face and breathe in. Even out here in the chilly night rain, it makes me feel warmth. The fluid essence of an unspecified memory floods my mind again. A memory of a time when Mom was still a mother to me, or at least tried to be. One of the last moments of my childhood when I could be a kid devoid of any worries.

With a deep exhale, I let my arms fall down and turn, finding Apollo still standing there halfway in the cracked open door, smiling. We lock eyes for a few seconds, long enough for my cheeks to heat and my heart to gallop before he breaks the connection and walks out.

I stand there, the sound of falling rain drumming to the same beat as my racing pulse.These strange emotions I’m feeling… I probably shouldn’t.

Especially since Apollo is not just any person. He’s Jasper’s omega. And Jasper is my boss. What’s more, he is one dangerous man.

Clicking my tongue, I correct myself, remembering our interaction. He isn’t anyone’s omega, like he said. Yet when I look into his eyes, I get an impression that it’s because he’s lost, rather than stemming from some desire to be unburdened by attachments.

I put my jacket back on, but a strange sadness hangs over me as I do. Apollo’s scent quickly fades away, leaving me alone.Not for long, I tell myself to cheer up and head to the car. I was on my way home after all, before I noticed the commotion. Jasper graciously let me take the rest of the night off, mostly because I had to pick him up so early in the morning and waited ages for him to finish.

I wonder if Apollo knows about these ‘business meetings’ and what he thinks of them.

I get home at about eight, opening the door to an unusual sight. Marci is in the living room, her messy, graying blonde hair twisted into a braid, stained, oversized T-shirt on, and a painter’s palette in hand. She pokes out from behind the canvas, smiling wildly to the point her eyes nearly disappear, sinking among the charming wrinkles around them.

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