Page 48 of Dollhouse

He simply stares back at me, silent. Eyes slightly wider than normal, as if he’s surprised that any of this is happening.

A lackluster groan pulls my attention back to Bo, only to see him curled forward, barely clinging to consciousness.

“Bo, please stop fighting them. Can you hear me? Are you okay?” I snarl at my guard when he bangs the cage as if to tell me to be quiet.

Bo turns to me, a tired, bloody smile slashed across his handsome face. I know he’s in deep pain, but that tiny defiant spark in his eyes is exactly what I needed to see. He’s still fighting, and that means I need to do the same. “Yeah, honey. Can’t make it too easy, can I?”

He sounds just like Jesse and I choke back my sob.

“Yes, yes. Moving on. We’re here for a reason and I’ve got a packed schedule. Eric?”

Eric stands, sniffing as he turns to a cabinet hanging behind the seats he and Bundy have taken up. Pulling open the wooden doors, I swallow as a wide array of crops and whips are revealed. All different lengths and widths hang inside and Eric studies each with the same indifference I've seen him use when checking our fridge for something to eat. The surprise at seeing us here must have faded and it’s with a cool detachment that he decides on a neatly coiled whip before he turns to Bo.

The ashen look on his face shatters any composure I have left to me. “If you do this, I’ll kill you,” I say, surprising even myself. The truth in my words is undeniable, steady and honest. I don’t know how, but that doesn’t matter much.

“A hellcat,” Bundy laughs, slapping the arm of his sofa. “You never told me that part, Eric.”

He simply shakes his head, ignoring me. “She’s not. Turn him,” he directs the men holding Bo on his feet.

They shuffle Bo so that his injured back faces Eric, who slides the leather whip across his palm. He looks right at home, staring at Bo and deciding how to harm him.

“I’ll do it, I swear Eric,” I shout, desperate to deflect the attention from Bo. “Don’t you dare hurt him!” I scream the last word, rattling the cage as Eric ignores me completely and snaps the whip at Bo’s back.

His rattling gasp proceeds any other reaction, his face tight as he tries but fails to hold in the scream trapped in his throat. It shreds me and I’m throttling the door of my cage as if by wanting it enough the thing might fall apart.

The two men keep him vertical, arms tucked under Bo’s so he can take another hit.

“Again. I think ten is sufficient,” Bundy directs, Eric nodding in submission like a little puppet.

“You coward,” I say again, staring at the man I married. “As if you haven’t done enough to him.”

He glances my way at that, realizing I now know his secret, but as if to drown out my accusation, he turns back to Bo and snaps the whip again.

Bo’s mouth falls open, a beat of frozen silence before his anguished moan turns me frenzied with my powerlessness.

“Stop, please!” I beg Eric who’s still ignoring me. Screw it, I turn to Bundy. “Please, I’ll do anything. Please stop, you’re going to kill him.”

His soulless eyes pin me down. “Anything, Emma? How brave you are. Would you still say this if you realized what we have in store for you?”

“Emma,” Bo growls. “I’m fine, don’t you fucking dare.”

Ice is all I feel, in my heart, in my veins. His words don’t touch me, because I don’t care about anything right now except sparing Bo another moment of pain. Shock laps at me in waves, threatening to drown me in their suffocating depths. Too muchhas happened way too quickly. Probably by design, just another way for Bundy to make us react in ways we normally wouldn't.

Fear is somehow both drowning me and nowhere to be found when I respond. “I mean it. Please leave him alone. Please let him be.”

“Emma, no!” Bo turns back to Eric. “Keep going, don’t you fucking touch her.”

Bundy quirks a brow at me. “Eric, it's your time to prove yourself.” He snaps his finger and Bo‘s dragged backward by three men who force him to the floor. He wrestles them, screaming for me, but his hands are pulled behind his injured back and zip tied.

Those wild blue eyes of his are fierce on mine. “I promised you I’d protect you, Em. Don’t make me break that.”

What can I say? I’d take being whipped in a heartbeat for him. It’s not even a question.

I raise my chin defiantly as my padlock is unlocked and a muscled arm reaches in to grip my collar and tug me out. Complete degradation; I’m sure it’s a method to Bundy’s madness, but everyone, including myself, seem to underestimate how stubborn I can be when my loved ones are in pain. It’s something I’m learning in the moment, and I’m so glad to find that pocket of resistance exists.

The man yanks at my collar again and I snap at his wrist with my teeth, biting down as hard as I can. He shouts, ripping it free as Bundy laughs, before gripping my hair and dragging me from the cage and across the floor. His boot lands on my upper back, forcing my face to the tile.

“Already biting the hands that feed you, mmm? Quite disrespectful,” Bundy muses, spreading his legs to see me through the space at his feet. “I did think your newly found attitude was a flaw, however breaking you will be quite theentertaining pastime. First, I’d like you to prove to me that you will do anything to protect your sweet friend here.”