Chapter 38 Daniel Wants Jasmine Dead
"It's simple." Justin was confused; did he really need to be taught how to search for a company’s address?
"Who's your dad?" Ethan found chatting with the kid quite amusing.
Liam, driving the car, was practically glued to the rearview mirror. Was this really the Mr. Douglas, playing with a kid?
"You're my dad." Justin seemed to have decided Ethan was his father.
In the world of a child, things were always simple and never complicated.
Ethan cracked a smile; he was truly intrigued. He never knew kids liked him; wasn’t it Lisa's kid who cried on sight as if he were the boogeyman?
Indeed, this kid was more endearing. "How about I keep this, and I’ll get you a new one?"
Justin thought for a moment, his naive head bobbing. "If you like it, I’ll give it to you. No need to buy me a new one."
"Why's that?"
"I don't want Daddy to spend money." Justin knew earning money was hard. "Uncle works very hard to earn money, so Daddy must be tired too."
Ethan didn't correct Justin's address, making Liam somewhat uncomfortable and curious about Ethan’s angle. "Kid, don't just call anyone dad. He’s not your father. Your real dad’s a mystery; nobody knows who he is."
Justin glanced at Liam and fell silent.
"Got a lot to say, do you?" Ethan frowned.
Liam bit his tongue, refusing to utter another word.
Justin, head bowed, carefully handed a small cloth doll to Ethan and whispered in a hushed tone, "Daddy, this is for you."
No one could fathom how much Justin yearned for a father.
Other kids had their dads. At the kindergarten, kids would all play games together with both their dad and mom. But Justin only had his uncle.
His mom was behind bars, and he had never seen his dad.
Richard was so busy working to support him that he hardly had time to be with him.
Always alone, Justin would watch other kids surrounded by their loving parents.
Ethan examined the little doll, noting the inept handiwork of Justin's uncle. The superhero doll Justin had made was an unsightly mess.
If Justin hadn't mentioned it was Iron Man, Ethan would have never guessed.
Indeed, children's imaginations were always something else.
…
Jasmine made her way to the backyard shed to look for a shovel.
The door to the shed was shut and locked from the outside.
A glance back confirmed Jasmine's suspicion.
She was always perceptive; she had fought back before and had been brutally crushed for it, leading her to no longer resist.
"So, are you the girlfriend young master Daniel set up for me?" A scruffy man, clad in black athletic gear and cracking sunflower seeds, spoke up from a corner.
Jasmine stepped back, trying the door, only to find it locked from the outside.
Her eyes dropped in a mocking smile. It seemed Daniel truly would find peace only with her demise.
There was a time when, amidst her darkest days, Daniel was a ray of light in Jasmine's life.
She entrusted him with her only piece of faith, yet he threw her into an abyss, making her witness the depths of hell.
"What's your name?" Jasmine attempted to pacify the man's demeanor.
She was powerless to fight back but needed to find a way to protect herself.
"I'm James, 39. And you?" The man seemed to consider forcing himself on Jasmine, but she showed no signs of disgust or resistance.
Other women screamed and ran like they saw a madman, but Jasmine was willing to talk.
"I'm Jasmine, twenty-six," she replied, taking a seat at a calculated distance from James, her expression unfazed.
This distance allowed for the possibility of escape if danger arose.
But with the shed door locked from the outside, getting away would be hard. She needed to buy time and figure out a plan.
During her five years in prison, Jasmine had become a seasoned survivor amidst the violence. She learned to time things just right, provoking the women who beat her in front of the guards, ensuring they'd be the ones thrown into solitary confinement — a fate she knew all too well.
Sometimes, it took more than one attempt, but she was used to taking a hit anyway.
Jasmine also mastered the sinister art of sowing discord, slipping strands of one inmate's hair into another's food, igniting brawls between those who tormented her.
To the casual observer, Jasmine appeared to endure her suffering in silence, yet she was always resisting, silently calculating her next move. Wild, hysterical outbursts held no place in her strategy. She stayed cool, contemplating every predicament and living by her wits.
"I heard from that girl, Serena, that you've been single for a while now, right?" Jasmine ventured, her voice probing.
"Who? Serena?" James replied, popping a sunflower seed into his mouth and then cracking open a few peanuts.
"Yeah, she said you can't find a girlfriend. She called you crazy — said you're nuts. And she called me dirty. Told me I'd be a perfect match for someone like you." Jasmine flashed James a wry smile, nodding toward the peanuts in his hand. "I'm a bit hungry. Mind if I have some?"
James paused, taken aback — no woman had ever shown interest in something he’d touched before.
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