Page 52 of Dollhouse

“They’ll come for us, Em. They won’t leave us here,” Bo says, his voice warm on my ear. He kisses my temple and I reach up to grip the side of his face, holding him to me. The thought of Noah briefly slices through my detachment, letting me free fall into the pool of shame I’m drowning in.

“What can they do, though? They’re outnumbered. If they come here to get us, it will be a suicide mission.”

I don’t say out loud what I’m actually thinking. What Noah will think if Bundy is telling the truth, and they’ve sent Mercy the photos. Would he be sick that I’m here with Eric again, that I’d let him watch as I was used?

That instead of fighting back like he’d taught me, I’d just shut down and let it happen?

It’s a gut punch. I want him so bad. I want him to come through the door, gun in hand and slaughter every man that’s ever stepped foot in this building. I want Jesse to come in right behind him, and get my sweet Bo out of this place, sweep him away to somewhere safe. I want to be back home with them all so much it fuckinghurts.

God, it hurts. Every heartache I’ve survived in the last few months doesn’t come close to the wound these men created. I whine low in my chest, curling further in, blacking out whatever I can.

“Baby, come here,” Bo whispers, his hand on my face, my stomach. “Noah loves you. We all love you and they’ll come for us. Don’t forget that, no matter what they say to you. You hear me?”

I nod, but he can’t hear the men’s voice still ringing in his head. Over and over.

Who's an angel now?

Try to soar away, ha, ha, ha.

Can’t you fly, little angel?

No. It’s not about if Icanget up again after this. It’s if Iwantto.

Right now Bo’s warm breath on the back of my neck is the only thing that keeps me from deciding that I don’t.

TWENTY-SIX

Red runsoff me in lazy spirals, down to the shower drain where it gurgles away, leaving behind no evidence of what I’ve done.

It’s been a full day since Emma and Bo were taken. Every single minute of it has felt likemore. More time to picture her and Bo’s face when they realized they weren’t alone in our house. More space to fill with the insane fucking panic that comes with not being in control of what’s happening to her. More pain at the idea of what she could be going through.

More and more and more,this livid, psychotic thing that’s growing inside me threatens the normally stoic way I handle a crisis. Stay calm; I’ve said it a million times. It’s what I tried to drill into Emma’s head when we were preparing her to protect herself. Stay calm and you can make it through anything.

But I can't do it. I can’t stay calm, not when the images in my head get more revolting, splintering themselves into all the ways she could be hurt by them. The guilt that comes with trying to close my eyes, to get some kind of relief from the thoughts, it's impossible. She’slivingthese situations. It’s her fucking reality. Torturing myself by not brushing away the intrusive thoughtsis all I can do as penance for not being there for her. For not protecting them like I’d promised I would.

The kill tonight had been enough to take the edge off. One of the pieces of shit men who I knew frequented Bundy’s warehouse. Who our source had told us preferred painful sessions with young girls.

That man was on the receiving end of all my pent up rage, as an offering for all the people he hurt. And how Emma could have been one of them if he’d had the chance.

He’s gone now, in several different pieces six feet under a pine that nobody will ever recognize as a grave. But on days when I’m feeling extremely vengeful, I’ll be able to go and remember how he’d screamed when I sliced his dick clean off his body before cramming it inside the mouth he begged for mercy with.

I turn off the water and stare at nothing for a moment until the chill sets in, cold drafts unavoidable here in the dead of winter.

He won’t kill her. It’s obvious he believes that as long as he has Emma and Bo, we’ll comply. We’ll leave him be so that he doesn’t take her life. Landon will have filled him in on how attached we’d grown to Emma and Bo and for now, that might be their only safety.

But that doesn’t mean they’ll be treated well, and that’s where his greatest mistake lies. Bundy is used to using people as leverage against men who are already fucking monsters, so they do his bidding to serve themselves only. He’s not used to dealing with someone like me, who would scour every inch of the Earth to find her. I don’t give a fuck about my life if she isn’t here.

So no, I won’t be leaving him alone. I just need the intel on where he might be stashing her.

Dressing, I head downstairs to immerse myself in the constant buzz of men who are in and out of the house. Some arehere while working on their own jobs, but most are here because of Bundy. This isn’t just about Emma and Bo for them, it’s about Lily. Most of them have known her, been fond of her. This group is a family, and our mission is a lifestyle. It’s another thing that Bundy underestimates. Evil men can’t fathom what love will push a person to do.

These men that we’ve surrounded ourselves with, who joined the Finches in their mission to serve up justice to the people who deserved it, that’s not something to take lightly. Riches shouldn’t equal the ability to use other humans for pleasure freely, and we relish the idea of taking down anybody who disagrees.

A planning session is taking shape at the dinner table. Ryan, a tall, muscular man sits at the head, his gray hair hanging in his heavily scarred face. He’s our most valuable asset right now, being that we’ve spent the past year infiltrating him into Bundy’s network until he received a guard position. That was before I took Emma, back when Lily’s vengeance was the only plan we had.

If he’s here, there must be some news.

Ignoring the looks I get from my father, I pull out a chair at the table. After scanning my set scowl and stony expression, he must give up on the idea of convincing me to stay out of this.