Page 68 of Toy No More

Just as I’m about to get up and go check to see how busy it is on the floor and maybe find out more, the door to the room springs open, with wide eyed Kiki in it. She closes it quickly and runs in, getting everyone’s attention. “You won’t believe this,” she shouts, stopping in the middle. My chest tightens at her words. That phrase never precedes anything good. “It’s Solomon Zane. He’s dead.”

“What?” Sadie’s voice next to me sounds distant.

Jasper.

“I’m serious! Another gang, they say. Burned his house down and killed a bunch of the people there with him,” Kiki blurts out. “Boss is okay. He found out when they went there for a meeting. That’s what I heard, anyway,” she adds, looking at me with a hint of understanding. It’s a sort of public secret that nobody ever acknowledges; that he and I are together. Some dislike it, the assumed advantage it gives me. I always thought Kiki was among them, but her expression is one of assurance.

I let out a trembling sigh of relief.Thank god he’s safe.

But my relief is short-lived once everything else comes into the picture. Solomon Zane is dead. Murdered. Jasper might’ve had disagreements with him, a lot of them, but he was his father. And he was the official, actual leader of this entire organization.

The organization that will now be in shambles. Explains why so many people decided having sex with prostitutes was no longer on their list of priorities today.

“I need to go check on him,” I say under my breath, so only Sadie can hear. She briefly touches my hand as I walk by her. Even if a part of me knows Jasper is probably in a state of drive, trying to figure out his next moves, I have to make sure he’s okay.

I slip out, heading for his office through the Dollhouse. The difference in the mood really is stark. Only a few dolls are out on the floor, and barely any clients mingle. Not everyone coming here is affiliated with this gang, but even those who work for others or were simply in good standing with the Zanes will probably want to pull back and think about their own safety right now.

An attack like that…

I’ve lived under many gangs in my time, and I don’t remember hearing about something this serious. Maybe that stabbing of the family my pimp worked for in the very beginning, when I was starting. That ruffled some feathers and led to further bloodshed. Everything else has always been just minor scuffles and disagreements.

In the hallways hidden from the visitors of the Dollhouse, the energy is much different. Chaotic. People pass by me and rush around like they’re gearing up for war, making me that much more anxious. My hands tremble by the time I get to the stairs leading to Jasper’s office. Two men hurrying down the steps almost bump into me as they go by without acknowledging me.

Even with so many coming and going, the door into the office is closed. For safety, perhaps. It makes sense. I’m nearly there, nearly ready to see him and hold him in my arms, when Gibbs steps in my way, blocking me from entering.

With a frown, I look up at him as he towers over me. I’ve never liked the man. He’s a bad person. I can see that in his eyes. A person who’s done horrible things that he’ll never think about twice. I’ve encountered hundreds of monsters like him in my life.

He shakes his head slowly. “You better stay away until he calls you, birdie,” he says in a low tone, almost sounding like he thinks he’s helping me. I’m not some stupid bird, and he isn’t stopping me, so I flash him a more defiant glare and ball my fists. Gibbs snorts, shaking his head again, this time cocking his brow as well. “He ain’t in the mood, Apollo. Not even for you. Trust me.”

Who the fuck is he to tell me if my partner is or isn’t in the mood for me?

I open my mouth, ready to fight him on it, when another guy passing by notices us standing there and steps in. A long dread falls into his face from a loose bun as he leans in to Gibbs. “He’s right, you know? You shouldn’t be here. That other omega got the brunt of it already, but you better stay away ‘till boss calms down,” he says with an awkward grimace.

Red warning lights turn on inside my mind.

“What?” I blurt out, feeling my chest tighten.Kobe. Oh, no.“What happened?” I ask sharply, stepping toward the man. He gives an expression that scares me—he looks almost uncomfortable. Darting my eyes to Gibbs in hopes of him explaining, he purses his lips and just shakes his head, like he wants nothing to do with it. ‘What the fuck happened?!’ I want to scream, but manage to get a grip on myself. “Where is he?”

“The omega? Last time I saw him, he was cleaning up his mess in the warehouse. With how he struggled to even stand up, he’s probably still there,” he notes with a bitter smirk and I take a sharp turn, heading straight there.

All the stupid care I felt for Jasper gets replaced with my worry for Kobe. What the hell did he do, and why does it rattle me so much?

I nearly sprint down there. The warehouse isn’t a place I go to too often. It’s not for me, like Jasper said to me many times. It is for the men whodo the workand the less glamorous parts of the business. That’s always been more than enough to deter me. Not to mention it’s cold, creepy, and smells repulsive most of the time.

The moment I burst through the heavy door into the main area, the scent of Jasper’s pheromones filling that massive room is all I focus on. I freeze at the strength of it, the amount it must have taken to make it this concentrated, and then I can’t hold in a cough that crawls up my throat.

Covering my mouth, I look around. There’s no one here. Peoplewerehere—there are hints of other pheromones too, only those are nowhere near as strong.

A horrible sensation creeps up on me at the back of my mind. No. I shoot it down immediately, but the mere suggestion puts a rattle into my bones.

He wouldn’t. He wouldn’t do that.

It must have…it must have been something else.

I walk through the open area that has nothing but palettes, boxes, and containers in it. Noticing a wet patch on the ground ahead, I move there, studying it. Seeing there wasn’t blood, or at least I don’t think there was before it was cleaned up, is a slight relief. Faint acidic scent lingers, covered by the perfume of whatever cleaning product was used.

Where the hell is Kobe?

I bite down on my lip, shifting on my feet, suddenly feeling unsafe in the silence and coldness of the place.

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