Page 91 of Toy No More

“I’ll um…get a coffee first,” I say, finally meeting her eyes again, this time with some determination. She seems pleased with the response, smiling even wider. “Yeah, I can do this. I’ll wash myself up and use one of those fancy body scrubs in the big bathroom. I’m…I’m going to handle this.” With a firm nod, I feel myself settling into a solid sense of security.

Sadie stands up and shifts the chair I sit in to face the mirror next to us. She leans over me from the back, meeting my gaze in the reflection. “I was supposed to dance, but let me ask Tash to take over for a while and I’ll help you find something to wear that will blow him away, okay?”

I smile at her and just watch her for a few moments, wondering how lucky I am to have her and how crazy in love I would’ve been with her if I were into women. “Thank you.”

“You don’t need to,” she says, like she always does, and ruffles up my hair with a wink before walking away to talk to Tash.

When I’m left alone, I look at myself in the mirror, glad to seemyselfstaring back at me again. Despite all the pain, hopelessness, and weakness, I’m still here. I have to remind myself of that more often.

Inhaling and exhaling slowly, mindfully, I close my eyes, outlining a solid plan in my mind. No more wandering. I have to stay focused. First, I put myself together physically. Then, I get myself into the zone for the client. Whoever he is, this is what I do best—please others with my body. I’m going to secure this deal. No matter what he wants to do, I’ve done worse. No matter the discomfort, my body can handle it, as long as my spirit remains strong.

After that, I will face the source of this storm head on.

I cook dinner for us after we come home, which is unusually early. The sun sets behind me as I cut the meat and season it. Jasper loves this meal, so I take care to do it as flawlessly as possible.

My body still aches—the things that man did linger and probably will for a few more days—but I choose to ignore it. Whatever he did, whatever he made me do, it’s all unimportant. My focus is clear.

When Jasper doesn’t pay attention, I grind a few sleeping pills into dust and mix them into his portion. They should be enough to not make him immediately alarmed while also getting him to be believably tired. Even with my heart anxiously pounding inside my chest, I put on a smile as I take the plate to him.

We have a glass of wine and eat together. He talks and talks and talks about how well everything is going, and how happy the client was. I smile and nod. I look content and act charming for him. I say exactly what he wants me to say.

Thankfully, cuddling on the bed is the furthest things go. When his eyes start to grow heavy, I get on top of him, telling him to call it a night.He’s been working so hard, after all. With the good meal in his belly, some wine, and the pills, Jasper proves easy to convince and we snuggle in bed together.

Only I don’t intend to sleep.

I slip out as soon as I’m sure Jasper’s in a deep, pill-assisted slumber. I order a taxi on my phone, having it pick me up a few blocks away, and find some unassuming, comfortable clothes in the closet to put on. An old, loose hoodie I haven’t worn in ages and sweats. He’s not getting any damn effort from me.

Pulling my hair into a messy bun at the back of my head, I sneak out of the house and make my way to the spot where I’m supposed to be picked up by the taxi.

On the way, my nerves show. I look down at my hands and they tremble, but not just from anticipation. Anger starts surging through me, too.I won’t get emotional, I promise myself as I close them into fists. Until I know if he’s even worth my tears and get an explanation for his damn behavior, I won’t.

The drive passes fast. When the driver stops outside of the unassuming apartment block, I freeze in my seat. I stare at the spot where Kobe pointed his gun at me that time and there’s suddenly a painful twist inside my gut and a feeling of nausea that pushes its way up.

No. You have to do this.

“Thanks,” I mutter to the driver, and spring out of the vehicle. With my hood up and hands in my pockets, I go up the stairs. One after another, each echoing step bringing up that video in my head, like my brain finally decides to work with me by giving me exactly the fuel I need to stoke up the fire.

I told him my goddamn name.

I said it out loud for the first time in over six years and he thinks he can just throw that away to suck up to Jasper and have him show me the recording of it without facing me?!

My hand quivers with anger as I bang it against the door.

I keep replaying those moments we shared together in my head. The things he let me do. Things I haven’t really wanted to do with anybody else, or maybe didn’t feel safe to. With Kobe, everything was so effortless. Natural.

Someone’s door opens, but it’s not the one I want. Next door, an old woman peeks out curiously. I’m so furious and focused on one person only that the moment she meets my eyes, I snap.

“Mind your own fucking business,” I say sharply. With a downright astonished gasp, she quickly shuts the door and locks it.

I’m about to bang again when the door in front of me finally opens. He stands there, one eye poking through the small gap he makes as he cracks it slightly. I use all my strength to push in, making him stumble away. Without hesitation, I head right to his room, ignoring everything and everyone. I don’t so much as glance toward the people in the living room or give a second of attention to whatever Kobe mumbles.

Pacing back and forth before his bed, I wait for him to come in and face this, my heart sounding like a war drum in my ears.

The entire room smells like him, goddammit. Pine cones. Wet with the scent of fresh rain. That damn bast—

I turn, ready to go drag him here if I have to, but he’s already at the door, clicking it shut. The expression he has on is one of shame. He knows what’s coming, so I push whatever feelings seeing him like that and being so close swirl ups inside me, and keep the momentum of my rage going.

“Did you really mean what you said to him?” I ask sharply. I can’t stop moving. Can’t keep still. Pacing by the bed, I give him a glare every so often as he still stands by the door, looking down at the ground. He won’t face me. “Did you mean it?!” I repeat myself, this time louder.

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