Page 65 of Toy No More

“Ha. Look at yourself. Who’re you calling foolish, old man?” Jasper sneers at him, letting out a disgusted chortle.

He laughs in response, shaking his head. No one else seems affected, but I can’t shake the horrible, paralyzing feeling that he let out the laugh a character in a movie does before revealing the heroes had made a terrible mistake that will come to haunt them.

“If only you had the maturity to see how much you’ll regret this choice. If only you understood the complexities of the world. Instead, you’re chasing for nothing but crude power like some mindless, rabid animal.”

Jasper stares at him in silence for a moment, lacking any quick response. His back is to me, so I can’t see what his face says. It can’t be anything good because he pulls out his gun and strikes his father with it against his head. I clench my teeth and hold my breath while Solomon Zane struggles on his knees, grunting, before he slowly rises again.

“You always were a disappointment. A dog that never learns. I am glad your mother died when she did so that she didn’t have to witness her own reflection become this.”

With those words filled with pure loathing, Solomon Zane all but squeezes the trigger himself. Jasper doesn’t hesitate. The safety comes off and the boom of the bullet leaving the chamber follows almost instantaneously.

Jerking to cover my ears, I stare at Solomon Zane’s body hitting the floor, unable to look away. Blood pours out of his head onto the intricate carpet. Jasper’s rich pheromones fill the room like the last roar of victory.

He allows himself two shaky exhales before he settles into that steel confidence again, putting the safety back on and holstering his gun calmly. “Proceed. Burn the place down,” he orders. Everyone snaps into motion.

Jasper walks out of the room and I follow, still trying to gaslight myself into thinking I can be as cold and hard. I have to push all of this away and get it to mean nothing.

We make it to the entrance, where Dennis waits.

“The calling card?” Jasper asks him, pausing in the main door. The men behind us are already dousing everything with gasoline. All the fancy carpets, sturdy, expensive furniture, lovely paintings on the walls…it will all be ash soon enough.

“Got it.” Dennis raises his hand with a bright yellow bandana with a satisfied smirk. I recognize it. It’s a symbol of one of the other gangs. The Yellow Snakes. So they’re going to pin it on them. A retaliation for a deal gone bad, or just another group wanting their place at the top. Either way, the Snakes will be an easy target. An aggressive organization that’s been a thorn in Mr. Wilson’s side, Zane’s, and probably many others’.

Jasper nods. “Make sure it gets found. Regroup at the Dollhouse. Ensure everyone stays on track,” he warns, and I notice the dark aura around him makes even Dennis a little uneasy.

Deep down, every single person here is afraid, and they should be. A man who kills his own father is capable of anything.

“Drive.”

Realizing he’s speaking to me, I tense up. Swiftly, I walk to the car with Jasper close behind me. It’s only the two of us on the way back. Only me and a heartless, vicious beast.

The car feels claustrophobic. My stomach twists and turns, to the point I feel like I might throw up. Not to mention the silence and restlessness of the entire drive to the Dollhouse, which does nothing for my wavering mind.

“Do you know why I had you there?” Jasper asks after a few minutes.

I don’t meet his eyes in the rearview mirror, though maybe I should. He’s speaking to me, but I am too worried to find that gun pointed at me. “I wasn’t sure why you did,” I mutter, hesitant to open my mouth, “sir.”

The low chuckle he lets out echoes in the back of the car like in a cave. If that’s even possible. Maybe I’m just losing my mind.

“You had to be there. Had to see it. That sort of thing really shows you what people are made of. Do they handle it…or crumble? I needed to make sure which one you were.”

Internally, I’m painfully close to crumbling like a pile of dry sand. But he doesn’t know that, right? He can’t see that. I pray he doesn’t.

Tightening my grip on the wheel, I use all my might to appear collected and force myself to meet his eyes in the mirror. He’s waiting for me there, his gaze pinning me down. Breathing through my nose, I do a slow nod, hoping it is enough. Hoping, praying, that Jasper finds me worthy even though I hate everything that’s happened with all my being and want nothing to do with any of it.

It’s better than being dead, I remind myself. And there’s no one to blame but me for the bar being set that low right now.

With a hum, Jasper leans back and stays quiet. He sits there, arms spread out behind the armrests, like a king after a feast. Satisfied.

As we cross the bridge two blocks away from the Dollhouse, I hear multiple fire engines wail in the distance. The sound weakens the further we get, and we both know where those trucks are headed.

“They’ll find nothing but bones and ash,” Jasper mutters to himself contentedly.

I might have dissociated for the rest of the journey. Either way, I barely remember parking or getting out of the car. I follow Jasper around like a shadow, unsure what else to do. Scared to do anything else.

He calls a meeting in the warehouse, where everyone can fit. And by everyone, he meanseveryone. More people than I’ve ever seen around the Dollhouse combined gather up in the following thirty minutes. They all trickle into the room only to wait there in confusion, chatting to each other about some tragedy having happened.

I do nothing but stand motionless by the flimsy metal table Jasper paces around. I stare ahead, barely blinking, having lost any mental capacity to even wonder what this will lead to.

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