Page 26 of Dollhouse

It doesn’t matter, really. I can’t let it happen again. The entirety of Mercy has been shaken up once more. Instead of helping people like they’re meant to, they’re stuck dealing with me. Noah could've been killed. My stomach rolls at the thought. I don’t have to let this keep going on. I could never forgive myself.

Noah. Bo. Jesse. Maybe I’m not meant to be a sharp shooter, or an expert grappler. I can still make a difference and keep them safe, just byleaving.

“He’ll kill me if you do it.” Jesse’s voice comes nonchalantly from the doorway and I turn. He takes in the tear tracks on my face, the torment clearly written in them. Walking to my side, he gently brushes them away with his thumb. “Hey, Em, stop. Doing what we do has always been dangerous. There’s always been a risk of getting hurt or killed. Noah knows that.” He forces my eyes up to his. “Now he just has something worth making the risk for.”

My lip trembles. “I could stop all this.Bowould be safe. Your family. This doesn’t make any sense. You don’t even have to tell him you saw me leave.”

He snorts. “Please, tell me I haven’t been such a jackass that you think I’d let you throw yourself into Bundy’s grasp as some kind of sacrifice. You wouldn’t be saving anyone. Noah would never stop thinking about what was happening to you until it drove him insane.” He looks at the necklace still gripped in my hands and flicks the tiny, beautiful sun that Noah must have thought represented me somehow. “Don’t throw your life away for nothing, ‘cause I fucking promise you that Bundy having you in his hands would be a fate worse than death.”

I grit my jaw and nod. “Ugh, okay. We’ll figure it out.”

“Good. I’m packing his stuff now, we need to go. Grab whatever you can and Bo will help you in the car.

I throw my things together, trying to remain thoughtless as I pack, because if I start to process what's happening I might just fall to pieces. I don't want to be more of a pest than I already am.

I help drag my stuff out to the car and throw it into the trunk, watching as Jesse holds the back of Bo’s head and kisses him. It’s desperate, but Bo lets him steal that physical reassurance he needs to keep functioning. After a moment, Jesse drops his forehead to Bo's, their eyes just an inch away, and plants a sweeter kiss at the corner of his mouth.

“Follow me, and do not stop for any reason. Okay?” he orders, and Bo nods. “I love you.”

Bo just calmly takes the keys in his hands. “We’re going to be fine, Jesse,” he says, then his voice softens. “Love you too.”

Before they can take off, I creep over to check on Noah, but he’s sprawled in the backseat of the car and looks as if he’s passed out again. I hope in this state he’s at least finding an escape from the pain. Quietly, I open the door closest to his head, and drop my lips to his temple. I would give anything to go back to last night, when he’d pressed my body into the sheets and made it shake with delirious need.

“I’m sorry,” I say. “I’ll make it up to you, I swear. Iswear.”

I will. I’ll find a way. Maybe I’ve been torn from my life and shoved into this new one, full of violence and retribution, but it’s time to accept that this is where I am now. There won’t be another day where I sit nervously on the sidelines while this battle is fought, the people I care for at the frontlines. This is my life now.

Theyare my life now.

Bo waits for me to put my seatbelt on and then holds my hand with his, slowly following Jesse’s car into the path along the woods.

FIFTEEN

It’s fitting,how a holiday about being grateful can turn to an absolute disaster in the Finch household.The Great Thanksgiving Scatter, where the members of Mercy dispersed to all our different club-owned properties. Hiding and waiting for a new plan.

It feels like shit. Hiding is not what we’re meant for.

It’s a cycle I’m extremely sick of. New house, new rat, running again. Her depressionagain. I’m ready to do fucking anything to get us off this carousel to hell.

In different circumstances, this cabin down by the caverns would be a perfect place to spend the holidays. As it is, I can feel how restless she is. The way she mentally disappears as if checking out from reality.

The first week, she’d fretted over me constantly, a staple at my side. It was unnecessary, as most of my injuries just needed time to heal, but she was steadfast, refusing to leave me as if it was some kind of penance. Sleeping at my side like something might happen to me in the middle of the night.

Some of it is guilt, which I can't seem to erase from her no matter what I do. She’s taken full responsibility for whathappened to me. It doesn’t matter that there is absolutely no evidence to support her, she’s locked in.

I’d even reminded her with my sternest voice that I was the one who brought her hereagainst her will,thinking that might help her remember to place the blame somewhere it’s deserved. Instead, all that happened was her tearfully pulling me in for a forceful kiss, then me fucking her into the mattress, growling in her ear about what a good little captive she’s been for me and how I’ll never fucking let her go.

She seemed to like that. Maybe I’ve corrupted her more than I thought.

No, Noah. Focus.

Focus.

What’s been absolutely undeniable since the night that Emma ran, is that I’m a goner for her.

The words don’t do it justice. I feelboundto her. Her happiness, her security, her feelings toward me. They matter. They fuckingmatterto me, so when she looks so lifeless and afraid, it makes me desperate. I would do anything to see her smiling like she used to.

This is new to me, since I’ve never been the type to get attached. I’ve always been considerate to the women I slept with, of course, but there was an understanding that it was just physical. Nobody was looking formore.