Page 36 of Dollhouse

He takes my hand. “Yeah, but it’s not bad.” The words are rushed out as my face pales.

“Noah,” I whisper, trying to block the others from hearing us as his hand raises to stroke my cheek. “You’re not leaving.”

The words are spineless. I have no room to tell anyone here what they can do.

I’m just the captive. I have no control. Nosay.

“You’re not leaving, right?” I change the wording and see him glance at the men still watching us.

Panic dislodges from my heart and infiltrates my blood, spreading. “Noah, you promised me.”

His head tilts, looking at me with a wary hesitance. “I promised I wouldn’t get hurt, Em. That’s not exactly the same thing.”

No. “Jesse,” I say, turning to him. “It’s Christmas Eve, and we have everything planned for tonight and tomorrow. Can’t this wait just one day?”

What looks like pity stains his face as he shakes his head. “No.” My heart crushes. “Listen, Landon’s been working with the rat, okay? Making him feel safe, like they’ve both turned on Mercy together. He’s spent the last few weeks gaining his trust enough that he would share his location.” His hands grip the counter, unable to hide his excitement at the change in fortune. “We know where he isright now. We have to go get him. There’s still some information that Bundy doesn't seem to have, and we can't let him get it. That’svery important,” he says, like I don’t understand.

I do, but I shake my head, and then I can’t stop. Noah nods at the men who return to the papers on the island as he holds my face still. I try to take a step back, but he simply holds me in place, forcing me to focus my attention on him. His light eyesare fervent, burning into mine. His determination to make me understand steamrolling my resistance.

“This is it, Emma,” he says, his low voice urgent. “We take care of this last piece, and we can leave. Okay? I talked to Jesse, to my Dad. We can move anywhere, across the country if you want. Start over.” His thumb brushes across my downturned lips. “But I can’t leave my family like that if I don’t know they’re safe, so we have one last loose end to tie down. We have to, and then we can go.” His brow furrows, trying to make me see what he sees. “Just you and me, baby.”

A few tears manage to fall, the tension in my jaw starting to make my head hurt. It’s not okay, I can feel it in my chest that something is wrong. “Please, Noah. I know I don’t know all the details, just stay here with me.”

“I’m not leaving you here alone, Bo’s staying too. We will only be a few hours. Landon’s going right ahead of us, yeah? And then we’ll go in after him. No traps, no nothing. We’ve planned it out to be as safe as possible.” He smiles, smoothing the stress lines from my brow. “You and Bo just get tonight ready for us and then tomorrow we can start figuring out where we want to go. Wherever you want, okay?”

Despite myself, the image of us in a faraway place takes hold in a corner of my mind. Some vague cabin in woods I’ve never seen before. Maybe a farmhouse in a field I’ve yet to find. A place where we could justbe.

I can’t help the picture forming any more than I can help the tiny smile that tugs at my lips.

“There’s my girl,” he murmurs, and my heart bursts as he leans to kiss me. “I expect my Christmas present tonight,” he adds in a low, gravely voice, nipping my ear as he pulls away. “Understood?”

I shiver, nodding meekly. I’m not sure I could speak right now if I wanted, with the way my throat clenches.

“Okay,” Landon says, and I focus on him, trying to absorb his every word. “I need a thirty minute head start. He thinks we’re both going to Bundy tonight and that he will be giving us asylum for working against you. I’ve convinced him I’m ready to turn. So I go in, grab him, and we’ll be driving through this pretty desolate roadway soon after that. He won't expect a thing, so you just pull out and stop us and then—” He peeks at me, my eyes wide. “And then, uh, wedispatch him.”

My eyes fly to Noah who watches me soak in that information. I know they…kill. But it's one thing to know thatabstractly, and another to know he’s walking out the house right now to go do it.

“So…yeah. We dispatch him, dump him and move on with our merry lives,” Landon says, clapping his hands together. “Bundy assumes he’s dead already, and that’s why he’s been missing since Noah was attacked. If they haven’t tried to avenge him yet, I don’t think they will. He wasn’t very important to them.”

“I still can't believe he ratted. I invited that motherfucker to my daughter's wedding. He danced with my wife,” Patrick mutters darkly.

“You just never know with people,” Landon agrees before grabbing his keys. “Thirty minutes,” he reminds everyone, then nods at me and winks. “Promise I’ll take care of them.”

I nod, having no reason to doubt him and no power to sway this conversation anyway. Is this how Noah’s Mom feels? Useless? Like she has no choice but to watch as the people she loves risk their lives? I hate it.

Bo wanders over and rests his hand on my shoulder, tugging me in for a side hug. “It’s gonna be fine. Jesse doesn't seem nervous at all and they’ve been doing this a lot longer than we’ve known them.”

“I just found him injured weeks ago,” I say quietly. “I can’t get the image of him out of my head, and that split second where I thought he was dead.”

“This is different, he’s not alone. There’s safety in numbers, right? I mean, look at them.”

I do and…he’s right, I guess. Noah and Jesse don’t look the least bit nervous, plus Patrick and Landon are going to be there for extra hands. For the first time, I notice Aiden and Liam on the front porch, smoking and laughing as if they're pregaming for a sports match instead of luring someone to their untimely death.

I shiver at the thought, peeking over at Noah and trying to picture it. It’s crazy how I’ve managed to block out this truth until now, but I can’t picture him actually taking someone’s life. Would he use a gun? A knife? It’s not as if I’m notawarethat his body is lethal. He’s used it as a weapon against me many times. When he wants to be, he’s utterly zeroed in, muscles flexing like a machine as he stalks his prey.

It’s just…the prey is usually me, not someone he’s going to kill.

I take a shaky breath, as it seems there’s no point in fighting it. “Okay, yeah. I’m sure they’ll be fine.”