Page 42 of Toy No More

Every day I still remember the girl with the butterfly tattoo, and yet I think I would be fine if people like Mrs. Mayfield were the ones that suffer under the hands of Jasper and others like him… Then again, the girl might have not been innocent, either. I’ll never know.

Are any of us?

I hear Marci step out into the hallway behind me. With a deep sigh, I shut the door and turn to her.

“Miserable old bitch,” she murmurs with a genuinely hateful frown. I could definitely come up with much stronger descriptors.

“Fuck,” I say in response to seeing the clock in the kitchen. “I gotta get ready. Shit.” The damned shrew even stole the little time I had before having to leave for herself and her stupid theatrics. I turn toward the bathroom, stomach twisting while my mind tries to figure out how quickly I can finish the laundry, get dressed, and drive to the Dollhouse without being late.

Food.I need to grab something to eat, too.

Marci touches my arm gently, making my body come off the edge. “I’ll sort it.” I look at her with a grateful smile, even if I feel horrible for promising to do it and not being able to, especially when she should rest instead. “Go on. Forget about her, okay? Skyler threw some things around last night. It lasted a few seconds. She’s just being extra. As always.”

I roll my eyes, and it somehow releases a lot of the frustration created in the mere minutes I stood in the door. Marci’s right. I need to remove her from my mind. She doesn’t deserve the space there. Besides, I have work to focus on.

“I’ll try to get home early today,” I say. My anger at Mrs. Mayfield might be justified, but I would lie to myself if I denied that the guilt hiding behind it didn’t intensify it. Another explosion of feelings from Skyler I wasn’t privy to or around for, likely caused by my absence and lack of support.

Marci steps in, giving me a kiss on the forehead like Mom used to when I was little. I’m thankful she’s taken over that tradition. “Alright, sweetheart. Be safe.”

“I will.”

?

I’ve gotten so distracted by my memories of last night and the encounter with my insufferable neighbor that I don’t even think about theotherthing I should be worried about until Jasper appears in front of me, walking to his office.

It hits me as I see his steely eyes. They ignore me. Still, my heart pounds inside my chest and questions flood my mind.Is it really all fine?

Seems like it, at least for most of the morning.

I’m sent to do some smaller errands by Vince. Jasper behaves like he usually does, though…he’s a bit more quiet? It must be in my head, I try to convince myself. He agreed to it. I agreed to it. I put myself in this position.

The dark shadow of doubt and unease follows me throughout the day. In the early evening, when I’m sitting down and having a few bites of a dry sandwich while texting Skyler to check up on him, I hear the break room’s door open with a squeak. I straighten my back quickly.

I meet Jasper’s gaze and nearly choke on the bread. Putting my phone away, I raise my brows alertly. “Boss?”

He watches me, once again sending the tingles of anxiety down my fingertips. “I need to see my father,” he finally says, voice as flat and deep as it usually is, unless he’s in his entertaining, good mood. “You’re taking me. Now.”

I don’t even have time to blink before he pulls away and walks down the hall. I drop everything and go after him, hoping I actually remember the way to his father’s house from my previous visit.

Jasper’s pheromones trail faintly behind him. There’s a hint of something heavy to the scent, which isn’t all that strange considering we’re going to see his father. That never goes well from what I’ve seen, so it’s natural for him to be on edge.

We get into the car. Only the two of us.

I drive us across the city in silence.

What am I expecting to happen, anyway? For Jasper to ask me how Apollo was? If I was happy getting fucked by his omega?Idiot.

It’s probably good that he isn’t saying anything. After all, like Apollo said, this is work. What we did was just pleasure. A personal thing. It should be separated. Hopefully, it stays that way, and then I won’t have to worry.

Solomon Zane’s grandiose mansion impresses me every time I come in front of it. Even the driveway has been paved with stones shaped and set down by hand, creating a wavy, calming image on the ground. I park and pull down the window to hang my arm out of it. I shouldn’t have to wait long, considering the two forces of nature that are about to meet, so I keep my seatbelt on.

“You’re coming,” I hear Jasper’s voice, but the words don’t quite register.

Bending down to glance at me through the window, standing there a few steps away from the car with his hands in his pockets, I tense up at his slightly annoyed expression. “Sorry?”

“Get out. You’ve been asked to come in,” Jasper says, meeting my eyes briefly before he turns and lazily walks to the door. Or rather than lazily, more like he doesn’t want to enter at all.

Frowning to myself, I feel the temperature of the blood in my veins drop.

---