Page 121 of The Toy Maker

“I was just mad, okay?”

I stopped, inhaling sharply before turning to face her. “Why do you care so much about who I’m fucking?”

“I don’t, I jus?—”

“You what?” I snapped. “Love him?”

Kitty’s face twisted, her usual confidence flickering. She averted her gaze. “No.”

“Love me then?” I sneered, but the second her eyes met mine, I realized I had made a mistake. She looked vulnerable.

Her fingers twisted in the hem of her skirt, and her shoulders were tense.

“You should let him go,” she murmured.

I let out a hollow laugh. “Why does everyone keep telling me what to do? I’m so fucking tired of it.”

“Then maybe Jason isn’t the best person to be screwing,” she shot back.

My blood boiled. “That’s none of your business.”

“It is my business if it affects the business.”

I let out a bitter laugh, shaking my head. “You’re acting like a jealous bitch.” Not even twelve hours before I was nearly murdered on her command, and all she could do was question my life choices.

Kitty’s lips parted, something raw flashing in her eyes before she masked it with frustration. “Is that what you really think this is?”

“What else am I supposed to believe?”

She exhaled sharply, throwing her head back like she was trying to keep herself from screaming. “Maybe that I care about your happiness because I’m your friend.”

“Friends don’t get each other strangled.”

Silence.

Kitty just stared at me, her expression fracturing, pain leaking through the cracks. She wanted me to tell her it was okay, that I understood, that it didn’t matter.

But it did.

So I walked away.

And this time, she didn’t follow. Instead, she slammed the door behind me as I marched to see the man who had started it all.

FORTY-ONE

My march tosee Jason was set to the sound of cursing on a loop inside my head, each profanity punctuated by the dull throb of my bruised throat.

Pink Cherrie pulsed around me, neon lights flickering against brick walls, the hum of music mixing with the murmur of pleasure and business as usual. Because the show must go on. A few chatty Cherries stopped me along the way, their voices light and their smiles genuine as they told me how glad they were that I was alive.

I nodded, forcing a hollow smile in return, but my mind was already elsewhere.

They left to join what I could only assume was a threesome in the forest while I continued my mission.

I was sick of contemplating my life choices in front of doors that I knew I was going to walk through anyway. So I didn’t stop. I didn’t hesitate. I pushed through like I owned the place.

But the man who actually did own the place just stared at me from his bed.

Jason looked exhausted. Shadows darkened the sharp angles of his face, his green eyes duller than I’d ever seen them. He didn’t move toward me, but I could see it—the restraint in howhis fingers curled into the sheets, the way his jaw tensed like he was holding himself back from doing exactly that.