Page 27 of Toy No More
Jasper clearly thinks he has it all under control, but wouldn’t Solomon Zane, a man with decades more experience, know more about that? What does him being here, giving his son a verbal ass-whooping, actually mean?
Are there things coming I should be worried about?
Lenny and I barely jump aside when the office door bursts open. Jasper storms out first. His father follows in a completely collected manner, like nothing has happened at all. He gives me a quick, knowing glance, nodding lightly, before gathering his men and also heading down the stairs.
Opening my mouth, I look at Lenny. “Should we… What do we—”
One of the side doors opens. Gibbs steps out and leans against the wall. He knows Jasper well, from what I gather. “He’ll want to be left alone for a good while. All day, probably,” he says drily, aiming his answer at me. I guess everyone else seems to know the drill. “Come. I’ll get you to run some errands, so you’re useful while he cools down.”
“Got it.”
Admittedly, I’d much rather be driving out there, doing whatever, than hanging around here, so I’m grateful for the excuse. Jasper is exactly the type of unpredictable alpha that makes me nervous when out of control.
Still, even as I do the mundane pickups and deliveries Gibbs assigned me, my mind keeps buzzing with incessant worries.
Working for Mr. Wilson wasn’t at this level of intense. He ran his gambling and other illegal ventures, and there was violence when it came to getting his debts back from the poor fools who fell into it. I never saw too much of it, though. Some fights, sure. Other gangs, or foreign ones, trying to push into his territory. Minor scuffles and misunderstandings within the underworld.
But it never felt like I was living in some gangster movie, having to worry about a full on turf war.This isn’t what I signed up for, I think to myself, but have to laugh when it enters my mind.What a naïve fucking thought.
Of course I signed up for it. I became a criminal, regardless of my motivations or reservations.
When Jasper sends out a message for everyone to take the night off right as I am about to return to the Dollhouse, I let out a sigh of relief. Whatever his father told him, it must’ve set him off real bad. I’m just happy to not be anywhere near it.
I wonder if Apollo has to deal with him in those moments. I hope he’s okay.
It’s dark again by the time I arrive home. I get out of the car with the bag of shopping I got on the way and lazily walk up the stairs to the apartment. As I do, a movement in the shadows beside the building catches my attention. I pause for only a moment, quick to shake my head and will myself to ignore it.
You’re on edge for no reason. It’s nothing.
Right?
Narrowing my eyes as I walk across the upstairs pathway leading to the apartments, I wonder if it’s possible I’m actually being followed. It’s a feeling. An uncomfortable sensation tickling at my nape, telling me I’m being watched…
I drive Jasper around, but if someone wanted to get back at him, surely they wouldn’t go after me, right? I’m only the chauffeur.
Anxiety wells up inside my stomach. I clench my jaw, trying to push it away. I pause with my hand on the door handle, listening to the fairly calm sounds of my surroundings. Some TV noise from one of the other units. A car alarm blares in the distance. It always does. And the annoying, flickering street light outside the building keep buzzing.
Still holding the handle of our apartment, I glance back at the staircase. Seeing a blur move around the corner, I drop the bag. Some instinct I didn’t even know I had takes over my body. Adrenaline rushes through my veins as I pull out my gun and dash toward the stairs. Someone is running down underneath me.
“Hey!” I shout, but they keep retreating. Nearly flying down the steps, I use the railing to hop over and land right behind them as the figure tries to turn the corner into the dark alley behind the building. “Stop!” I yell again, aiming my gun.
The click of the trigger safety coming off must be what makes them freeze.
My heart pounds inside my ears. I glance around to make sure no one’s watching. More people, more danger. It doesn’t look like it.
I tighten my grip on the gun as they stand there, carefully putting their hands up. I’ve never actually used this damn gun. Mr. Wilson ordered Henry, his right hand, to teach me to shoot, but I never really had to.
“Let’s settle down. I don’t think your boss would much appreciate you gunning me down,” the person says in a slightly playful, mostly hesitant tone. The melodic, masculine voice sounds familiar.
Parting my lips, I let my arms drop down as he slowly turns around.“Apollo?”I blurt out in shock.
He faces me fully with an apologetic smirk while he puts his hands in the pockets of his hoodie. I never would have recognized him if he passed by me on the street. Definitely not looking like this. All the times I’ve seen him in the Dollhouse, Apollo’s had on those luxurious, sheer, gaze-pulling pieces of clothing, or only intricate lingerie. Unlike now, when almost all of him is covered. He wears combat boots, dark jeans and a thick black hoodie with the hood up that goes all the way under his ass and is so oversized I can barely guess what gender he is.
“Wh-what are you doing here?” I finally push words out, still confused as hell. It hits me that we’re just standing here, so I quickly secure the safety again and holster my gun at my waist.
Apollo shifts on his feet, displaying an unusual lack of confidence. “You weren’t actually supposed to see me, you know?” Hair falls into his face as he tilts his head down with a faint smirk. “You’re more perceptive than most people. Or paranoid.”
“Who wouldn’t be, with how tense everything is lately?” I note.You wouldn’t know, I want to add, but the look he gives me tells me he probably does. “That doesn’t explain why you’re here. At my house. Following me?”
