Page 24 of Dollhouse

“Miss?” a man says, indicating the second car. “We need to get back to the house immediately.”

I don’t know his name, but I simply nod and climb in. Somehow, the short drive is enough for me to shift from fear to panic torage. Then just as fast as it flares inside me, it fades into numbness that I’m not sure what to do with.

It’s my…Noah. My person. I have no title for him, because what he is to me is undefinable. He’s somehow become as constant as the moon in my life, just ever-present. The man who forces the real me to stand front and center, who refuses to let me hide.

I need him. I need him to be okay.

When we reach the house, they’re already carrying him through the front door.

I hear Emily’s shouting as I rush up the stairs behind them. Bo’s frantically throwing the dining room chairs to the side to make space for them to place Noah’s body on the dining room table. Emily fights her way toward the front, trying to get to herson but Liam pulls her back, tucked against his chest. “Call the doctor and tell him it's an emergency. He’s alive. He’s going to be okay.”

She nods, rushing back to the kitchen and I suddenly feel out of place. Useless. I want to be at his side, but what right do I have over his parents? His family? Over the men of Mercy? I have no claim on him. I’m just…well I’m just the woman he decided to kidnap, and that he seems to have grown fond of.

I step back, my fingertips spreading behind me on the wall as I watch them cut his shirt free, revealing more injuries on his chest.

“He must have been jumped,” someone mutters.

“Why would he not have had his weapons? He’s always armed.”

“They could have taken them.”

“Okay, but how? This is the second safe house, nobody but the upper ring knows he’s here.”

Eyes cross over the table. They all trust each other. They’ve all known each other for ages, but someone did it. Someone must have told.

Whoever sold us out, who stole the videos, they could be here. He could be outside, or one of the men on their way for dinner. Hell, he could be one of the men in the house right now.

I take another step back, Bo grabbing my hand as the room sort of falls silent. The realization hitting us all that we still have a rat in bed with us, even with us only sharing our location with the highest ranking ring of members in Mercy.

But then a groan from the table breaks me from that thought as Noah tries to sit up and roll to his side.

“Where—” He winces, eyes slamming shut as pain radiates through him. “Where is she?” he grits out, voice low.

I look around for Emily, but she’s gone, trying to reach the doctor. When I look back, his face isafraid. Frantic. Thoseamber eyes, bloodshot, it doesn’t matter. He’s alive, and he’s here.

“I said, where is she?” His gravelly voice is all I hear as Jesse takes my wrist and tugs me forward.

FOURTEEN

Liam triesto coax Noah to lie back down on the table, but Jesse flings me forward and his eyes finally lock on mine. I try like hell not to break down as he sees me and immediately scans my body to check for harm.

Tentatively stepping forward, I reach out for his hand as he completes his assessment. A fresh trickle of blood starts to run from his nose, and I swipe it away with my trembling thumb.

“Are you okay?” His hands bracket my face, tugging me closer to where he sits on the table's edge, looking down at me while I fret, a second away from breaking down in his arms.

I nod, moving to brush the blood from his lip. “What did they do to you?” I whisper.

“Whodid this to you?” Liam says, asking the more pertinent question.

Noah pulls my head to his chest, holding onto me like his sanity requires it. “There were maybe five of them, all wearing masks. I can only assume it was Bundy’s men. They wanted—” His voice falters and his hand absently smoothes my hair. Someone approaches with a first aid kit and opens it, starting to work on his face.

“They wanted Emma. And Bo,” he adds, flicking his eyes to where Bo stands, Jesse frozen at his back.

Noah flinches as butterfly tape is pressed to his brow, his free hand going to his ribs.

“You need to lie down, Noah,” I whisper against his collarbone. He ignores me, still clutching my head to him like he’s afraid to let go.

His mouth lowers to my hair, and I feel the way his heartbeat races. He’s afraid, and because Noah is the way he is, he tries to hide it completely, the only proof I have is my hand over the thrumming in his chest. “I thought I was too late. I thought they had gotten here and taken you.” I simply shake my head, reminding him I’m fine, and he looks back up.