Page 1 of Dollhouse

ONE

I’ve lostmy footing again.

It’s been the cruelest coincidence, the number of times I’ve had my life crash to pieces in the last few months. Over and over.

It’s sodisconcerting.

The fake bank robbery. Falling for the villain. Sharing myself with all of them. Tonight’s been the kicker, though. My muscles haven’t stopped shaking yet from the adrenaline of finding myself trapped in my room, the fear of being locked away again wracking my body.

Noah told me he didn’t send the emails out—the ones that showed everyone who I’ve become for the three men in this car—that it’s just another trick from Bundy’s hackers. Maybe he’s telling the truth, but nothing makes sense anymore. Nothing feelstrue.

In my bones,everyonefeels like a liar.

My teeth chatter as the car speeds through the night, carrying us down an empty highway to the next phase of this unending nightmare. Noah’s warm thigh cradles my head, but I keep my eyes shut tight, pretending to be asleep.

Is any part of this real? Him? Us?

His large hand rubs absentmindedly over my arm, back and forth. Yesterday, it would have been comforting, but today it feels like a trap.

Those same hands carried me back to the house against my will, sobbing, before the charade of safety was ripped away from all of us. God, he’d been soconvincing, pleading with me to remember that he would never hurt me like that. The part of me that needs Noah wants to believe he’s right.

And yet? I lie here with my head in his lap, feigning sleep. Afraid of what will happen next.

I want to trust him—more than anything in the entire world, I do—but my eyes stay shut, pretending. Hiding.

Nothing makes sense.

My head goes in slow circles, while his hand does the same.

Neither one makes me feel better.

TWO

Yeah,she thinks she’s gotten one over on me.

As the car rumbles up the long dirt road to the new safe house, I watch her. Most of the drive here she’s had her eyes squeezed shut, her body tense beneath my touch. Only about thirty minutes ago did she finally soften, her breathing evening out as she lost her battle to stay vigilant.

I let her pretend. Fuck it. It doesn’t bother me that she hasn’t decided if she believes me or not. All that matters is that she’s still here, still safe. The rest we can figure out after we've slept.

The sky is impossibly dark this far out, and the house seems to loom out of nowhere once the curve of the driveway finally reveals it. Set back in the thick woods, tall glass windows reflect the moonlight that manages to break through the pines. Behind it, the pier juts out into choppy waters, the staccato thump of Dad’s boat rocking against the mooring buoys breaking through the otherwise silent night. All of the curtains are pulled shut, except for a tiny gap in the window next to the front door, where the low light of a lamp peeks through. I'd bet anything that Mom's been sitting right there, watching for us.

Jesse pulls the car up to the porch and puts it in park, turning the ignition so that the engine falls silent, save for a measured ticking as it cools. His back hits the seat, both hands running roughly through his wild hair. It’s beyond obvious that we’re both running ragged.

His head rolls to the side, studying Bo, who’s sleeping silently with his temple pressed to the passenger window, before meeting my eyes in the rearview mirror. A dark chuckle bubbles from his mouth, humorless disbelief that pretty much sums up the shit we’ve found ourselves in again. “What the fuck are we going to do?

It’s the same question that’s run circles in my head since it hit me that we’d been betrayed, that an inside member of Mercy had fucked us over. What was I going to do about someone terrifying them, and sending out those recordings?

Those nights we were all together were only meant formyeyes. I’ve never thought of my sexual conquests as an intimate matter before, or something that demanded privacy. Actually it was kind of the opposite, I’d fuck anywhere and I didn’t care who saw, because it meant nothing to me. But the idea of these strangers watching Emma and I together triggers a feral need to have their heads in my hands. Fuck the bodies, I just want their dead, decapitated heads. Jesse will be on board. He’s cleaved through at least two neck bones that I know of, both for less than this, and he was fucking smiling both times. It’s just a given that anyone who saw her and Bo likethatforfeits their life.

“For now, we just get them inside. The doctor should be here soon to look at her ankle, and then we need to call the senior members for a meeting. Someone ratted us out, and nobody but our most trusted members can know we’re here.” My eyes fall to Emma, sleeping peacefully in my lap. “Thattheyare here.”

He nods to himself, ghosting his thumb and index finger along the leather steering wheel. “I can’t remember the last time I felt afraid, likereal fear. That was fucking scary.”

When I shift out from under her Emma whimpers in her sleep, curling inward, then moans in pain when her injured ankle jostles.

“We’ll figure it out. We always do.” Opening the door, I sigh as my dad stumbles onto the porch and runs over to pull us into a crushing hug.

He’s shorter than me now, but still a fit, tough-as-nails man. His dark hair is hidden beneath a fisher’s hat, and now on top of everything else I feel like shit for ruining his boating trip when I’d blown up his phone in my panic.