Page 68 of Toy

“Did you actually expect him to believe that shit?” Beck added, rolling her eyes. “Come on, Jacob. No one’s that dumb. You killed Mason’s family for revenge. Plain and simple. Don’t try to rewrite history to weasel out of this. It’s pathetic.”

My father coughed and turned his gaze to me. “Jolie… sweetheart.”

I shook my head. “Don’t start,” I said. “Beck nailed it a second ago. We all know what you’re doing, and it really is pathetic.”

“Please, my little lamb.” He reached his hand toward me. “You wouldn’t really let them kill me, would you?”

I curled my lips into a grimace and took a step back. “You were more than happy to kill me, weren’t you? I mean, you let your men torture me for several days, and then you tied me to a stake and set it on fire,” I said in an acid tone, planting my hands on my hips.

He swallowed and shook his head. “No. I wasn’t actually going to burn you! That whole thing… it was simply a test of your faith.”

“My faith in what? In the fact that you’re a raging psychopath?”

“No, darling. If you just give me some time to explain and prove myself to you, I’ll—”

“No,” I said in an icy tone.

“Please… I’m your father.”

“You haven’t been a father to me for over twenty years,” I said, narrowing my eyes.

He nodded feverishly. “You’re right. I haven’t been the best parent. But we’re still family. I can change, I promise.” He propped himself up on one shaky elbow and raised his head, staring right into my eyes. “You can’t let Mason kill me, darling. You’re my daughter. Please.”

My shoulders slumped, and I let out a sigh. “He’s right,” I said flatly, turning my attention to Mason. “I can’t let you kill him.”

He flashed me an incredulous look. “Jolie, you can’t be serious. You can’t fall for his bullshit.”

“I haven’t fallen for anything,” I said. I held out my right hand. “Give me the gun. I want to kill the asshole myself.”

Mason grinned and handed it over. My father’s expression turned from relief to horror in an instant. “What? No! Jolie!”

I wrapped both hands around the pistol and aimed it right at his head. “I know I’m not the best at shooting, but I won’t miss. Not this time.”

“You can’t do this!”

I smiled. “Yes, I can.”

A bullet roared out of the chamber and hit him dead center in the forehead. His body flopped back down on the polished floorboards with a heavy thud, and blood seeped from the exit wound on the back of his head until his whole top half was surrounded by a thick crimson puddle.

Beck let out a low whistle. “That was a perfect shot.”

“Any shot aimed at my father is a perfect one,” I said through gritted teeth.

“True.”

Mason stepped over to me and pulled me into his arms. “How are you feeling?” he asked in a low murmur as I nestled against his hard chest. Even after all these years and everything we’d gone through, I still melted the second he touched me, like I did the first time I ever saw him. Like I was still that same love-struck little girl back in Louisiana, making eyes at the first handsome boy I ever saw.

“Never better,” I whispered in response.

Beck coughed to draw our attention. “I’m going to look for a radio or satellite phone. It’s about time we call the proper authorities,” she said. “I’m going to check on the girls and let them know it’s safe, too.”

“We’ll come,” I said.

She shook her head. “I’m guessing with all this drama, you two haven’t really had a chance to talk yet. I’ll give you a few minutes to catch up, okay?”

She stepped out of the room and shut the door behind her. Mason turned back to face me, brushing a thumb over my cheek. “You sure you’re okay? You’re covered in cuts and bruises.”

I nodded. “As soon as you showed up, I felt a billion times better. I promise.” Before he could say anything else, I motioned toward his half-melted shoes. “I think we should get some cold water for your legs and feet. You’re burned.”

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