Page 56 of Dollhouse

The man growls, yanking off his mask to show red-tinted teeth fit with a snarl on his rough-lined face. Bo tries to scramble to his feet but the guard is quicker, fitting my throat in his grasp as he pulls a gun from the holster on his waistband.

There’s a glitter in his eye like he’s thrilled to press the muzzle to my temple. “How bad do you want to see her brains on the floor? Hmm?”

Bo freezes, jaw clenched and chest heaving as he tries to figure out how to save me.

I shake my head, hoping my glare conveys what I need it to. He has to learn that I’d rather just endure whatever they have for me than to see him punished again. My stubborn boy, bracing his injured leg for a moment when he can jump between us.

“Do not,” I grit out.

A rough laugh vibrates against my ear. “Listen to your slut.Do not,or I’ll make sure you get another round with Rick, got it?”

Bo’s hands fist, eyes cutting to me as if he doesn’t want me to hear the hint at what I already know he’s been put through. All I can do is bite my lip to keep my fury inside, but threatening Bo is the end of the road. They won’t stop, and they’ll just keep coming back to break another piece of us off until nothing is left.

Blinking at Bo, I wait for him to focus on me. “Wait,” I mouth. “Please.”

His eyes cut back to the guard, stoic. Strung tight.

“Like I thought,” the man says. “On your knees.” His hand on my shoulder twists me back toward him before pushing me down to the floor.

“You motherfucker.” Bo’s threat is so low I barely hear it as he stares down the man. “I swear to God, I’ll kill every single one of you before this is over.”

“It’s okay, Bo,” I say, voice shaking, the gun somehow bringing every portion of this moment into a terrifying clarity. “Don’t do anything stupid.”

“Yeah,Bo, don’t do anything stupid,” the guard mocks, licking his lips as I sink to my knees, unzipping his pants. He wears the same cologne as Eric and my stomach rolls.

“Open,” he demands, and I do, closing my eyes as he invades my mouth.

My stomach sours as the loss of control sinks my spirit. This man—these men, all think they can do whatever they want with us and I’m so fucking tired of being seen as helpless. As easily controlled. I’m not their plaything, I never was. The fury licks at me, twisting the damage they've done to my body until I feel like I could burn it all until all that remains is a cold, gray ash.

As he steals my breath, that rage takes over when he has the audacity to order Bo to get on his knees as well.

If they’re going to kill me anyway, I might as well deserve it.

I bite down with all the steel I can gather, keeping my eyes squeezed shut to avoid seeing whatever happens next. I have no idea how much strength it takes to actually sever someone’s penis, but I hope I have enough to manage it.

The shriek he emits is ear-shattering, and I fall backward, crawling away from him. Turning my head, I spit as much of the blood in my mouth onto the tile as I can.

“Holy shit.” Bo’s awe-stricken words pull my attention back to the bloody mess that the man is trying to hold in place with both hands.

Both hands? Oh my god, he dropped the gun.

Scrambling forward, I crawl, terrified as I reach for it and grip it tight in my hands as I rush toward Bo. When my handreaches his, I turn back to the man as he realizes the mistake he made.

I put a bullet right in his screaming mouth. I wish Noah could see it, he’d be so proud of me.

“HolySHIT,” Bo shouts, gripping my hand as he limps for the door. “We need to go. Can you run?”

I can, but he can’t. “We’ll find a way. Don’t let go of me.”

Trying to squint through the glass window in the door, I press it open and peek down the dark hallway. It’s empty and we squeeze through the gap.

It’s like being a mouse in a maze. Surely, someone is watching us as we try to decide which path will get us to the exit. This building is a warren of black halls and locked doors.

“I should have searched him for keys,” I whisper as Bo tugs me to the left, my hand starting to shake in his. He glances back at me, searching my face with concern.

“If you’re gonna freak out, please wait ‘til we get out of here. And give me the gun,” he says. I pass it over gratefully, trying to squeeze my mouth shut.

My head doesn’t seem to have caught up with the fact that I’ve just murdered someone, but my body has. A shudder ripples through me as I consider what I’ve done and that I don’t feel a thing about it. Maybe the numbness has spread too deep already.