Page 19 of Dollhouse

It had been a little more…justmore. More than usual. And I don’t mean in theatrics or dominance. More infeeling.

I guess she felt it as well. Whatever crash out is happening in my heart just jumped right through my chest and burrowed into hers. And now her eyes question me, rightfully so.

Propping myself up on my elbow, I look down at her. Blonde hair splays wildly on my pillow, a slight sheen covering her body.

I want to chain her to the bed so that she’s always right here with me. But then how could I watch her as she reads in the grass, the sun on her skin, a smile on her face?

She’s really pulled a reverse Uno on me. This girl I tried to steal away, to lock down and torment. Now it’s me somehow that’s caught in her trap, one she doesn’t even realize she’s set.

“I just needed you,” I say, and it's true. If she takes my words at face value I can’t tell. But I think she might hear what I haven’t said because she pulls my hand to her mouth and kisses my palm.

“Me too.” Her words are simple. Neither of us coming right out and saying it, but understanding all the same.

My jaw clenches, wanting to say the words, when she shimmies her dress back down and slides away from the bed, walking out the door.

TWELVE

The cabin’sfull of life today, and the heavenly smell coming from the kitchen makes my stomach growl as I curl up on the couch with a book.

“Go eat something,” Bo says from the armchair to my left.

Ignoring that, I sit up. “Doesn’t it feel weird to be celebrating Thanksgiving right now?”

He shrugs. “Nothing feels weird to me anymore. I’ve just accepted that the Universe hates the idea of me living a normal life.”

I scrunch my brow at him when Jesse comes shuffling down the stairs, almost tripping over his own feet in the rush, sleep lines still sharp on his face.

“I just had a fucking great idea,” he says, hands splayed out in front of him to get us to pause and listen. “We make you both look dead, and then send the pics out!”

He looks back and forth between us as we stare back at him.

“How…um?” I look at Bo, who’s blinking up at Jesse. “What do you mean make us look dead?”

“For real, ‘cause I’m not going to let you beat me up for some fetish photoshoot,” Bo says, returning to his book.

Jesse shakes his head, frustrated that we aren’tgetting it.

“You know I cosplay. I can do special effects, like amazing.” He looks at me, one side of his mouth curling up in a smile. “I’ll just make it look like you got a bullet in the head. Clean.”

“Oh my Lord,” Emily sighs from the kitchen.

He looks at her, exasperated, before turning back to us. “It will work. They’ll stop trying to come after you two if they think we killed you. We could change your names. Maybe…relocate someday.” His eyes drift to Bo’s, looking somewhat crestfallen in a way that hurts my heart. “You’d be able to live a normal life if they weren’t looking for you.”

His words are for Bo and I watch him eat them up. It’s a wild idea, but the intent behind it is golden. Bo reaches out his arm, and Jesse takes his hand in his, interlacing their fingers.

Which is adorable and I love it,butsurely there are other ways to go about this. “What if it makes him upset? He could try to harm you guys instead for not giving him what he wants. He seems unpredictable,” I say, nerves exploding in my stomach. Noah had already explained to us all how deescalation was the safest plan for the organization moving forward, and I was very on board with that.

My eyes find Noah’s in the hallway under the stairs, leaning against the wall and staring at me. “What do you think?” I ask him, still unsure if we were being pranked. “If you send him a picture he’s not going to believe you.”

His eyes scan all of ours, silent for a moment. Sometimes I struggle to remember what Noah does for a living. That he’s second in line to a...vigilante group? That’s not exactly it. He doesn’t just takecontracts,he’s going to be in charge someday. His father will hand the reins of Mercy over to him, and he’ll be the guy who makes the tough decisions.

I can see it now, his face closed off as he assesses a dozen scenarios. Which options keep his men safe? Their families? Hisownfamily?

And now us, me and Bo.

He pushes off the wall and walks to the couch, gripping the back of it right behind where I sit. “Right, we know he’s got a hacker on us. I’ll send the pictures to someone in the group. He’ll believe it if he thinks he’s intercepting information.” He looks down at me, but there’s no give there. “I think it might keep you safer if Bundy thinks you’re out of the picture.”

I scoff. “And what about the rest of you? Your family? The group? I’m not the only one whose safety should factor in this decision. Right, Bo?”