Page 116 of The Toy Maker


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“Which is?” If it had anything to do with Thanksgiving dinner, the answer was a hard no.

He opened his mouth, but the groaning in the corner cut him off. I turned to see Jason stirring.

“Maybe we should talk later.” Ethan’s tone was flat and quick as he watched Jason fall back to sleep.

I bit my lip. “No, I think we should do it now.”

Ethan nodded and motioned toward the door. My bare feet stuck to the floor as I followed him out of the room and tried not to wake Jason.

Once the door was shut behind me, I asked Ethan what was going on.

“Would you ever consider leaving this place?” he asked quietly. I could tell he was holding back his disgust for the building we stood in and who ran it.

“I haven’t really thought about it,” I lied. It was easier to ignore the worst parts of being a Cherry when no physical harmcould come to me, but after being strangled, I had to consider other options. Didn’t I?

“I think you should.”

I frowned. “Why?”

Ethan stared at me. “Are you serious? You were almost killed today.”

“Is it really about that?” I looked up at him incredulously.

“What else would it be?”

“Jason.” His name rolled off my tongue so easily it was almost ironic how hard Ethan’s expression became.

“It isn’t healthy being here,” he sighed.

I could only shrug in response. “It’s the only place I have.”

“You can come work with me.” Ah yes, the big CEO of his own company. “It’s not as glamorous as this, but we do use our desks for actual work.”

I couldn’t decide whether I was insulted or honored. “That’s sweet, but I like it here. My frien?—”

“You mean Jason,” Ethan interrupted.

I swallowed. “Not just him. I could never leave Jade, Sarah, and Kitty.”

“Even if I told you that Kitty was the reason you nearly died on that table?”

“What are you talking about?” I demanded. He had to be insane.

“She told Sam to be rough with you.”

Sounded like stage direction to enhance the show. “But she didn’t know he would choke me.” I knew she was mad, but there was no way she wanted me dead.

Ethan sighed. “That’s not the point.”

“Then what is the point?” I demanded, sarcasm dripping off my tongue. “That you don’t enjoy seeing me get fucked by other men? Because that’s my job.”

His jaw stiffened. “No, actually, I don’t. Unlike some people, I don’t get turned on by watching someone I love in pain.”

I blinked at his confession and tried to find the right words buried in my throat.

“Just think about it, okay?” His voice was tired and yet still hopeful that I would abandon everyone I cared about… for him.

I nodded; I knew I wouldn’t be able to stop thinking about it. Ethan looked like he had more to say, but lucky for both of us his phone started to ring, echoing through the workshop.