Page 70 of Dollhouse

“I don’t know shit,” she spits, and the word sounds foreign from her mouth. “Bo’s gone, Jesse. I’m ashell.” She motions to her body, my shirt barely covering the healing injuries that cover her. “Bo knows what you guys haven’t figured out yet—that it’s not fun playing with broken toys. That’s what we are.”

He stalks over to her, eyes wild. “I know you’re angry, Em, but even you can’t convince yourself that’s what this is. You aren’t some fucking toy I want to play with, and I don’t know how you would let them convince you of that.”

“Convince me?” she grits out, getting in his face. Those sweet brown eyes shining with a pain that’s on the verge of shattering each and every one of us. “I don’t need convincing. Bo’s my best friend and even he left. He knows I need him and heleft.”

Reaching behind her, she snatches the note back up, raising it and crumpling it in her fist. “These? These are just words. They mean nothing when he left me here.” A sob breaks her composure and she chokes on it, both of us forced to watch as she shoves it back down and turns her broken anger on me. “Idon’t want to be yourAngelanymore. That was stolen and I am never going to get it back.”

When I shake my head, she stomps over to try and get in my face. “You hear me? Do not ignore me, Noah!”

“I’m not, Em. Me refusing to acknowledge this bullshit isn’t ignoring you.”

“It’s the truth, and you know it.” Spinning, she heads over to the kitchen, throwing the note in the trash can. Jesse’s hawk eyes watch as she goes to the closet, pulling out her shoes.

“What are you doing?” he snaps, storming up behind her and grabbing them from her hands.

“Leaving, get off me.” Her hands tug on the shoes but it’s useless and she knows it. A frustrated growl pours from her lips as she releases them and slaps her hands over her ears, turning away from him. Shutting us out. “You can’t make me stay. This is done. We’re done.”

“Like fuck it is,” I add, standing in the same spot. She’ll wear herself out before Jesse lets her out of this house.

Turning, she points a finger at me. “You don’t tell me what to do.”

“I know,” I say simply and her eyes narrow. “Except you aren’t going anywhere and that’s final.”

She growls, hands tangling in her strawberry blonde hair. I’d force her to stop except she needs to lance this wound. She needs to let some of her pain escape before it kills her. “Quit pretending you still want me, Noah. I won’t hold it against you if you just let mego!”

She screams the last word, opening her eyes as it echoes through the large room, through all of our heads. Watching me to see what kind of effect they’ll have on me.

I tilt my head, pinning her with my own glare. “You think I don’t want you anymore?”

She huffs out a laugh. “I know it. I know you saw, he told me he showed you. I wouldn’t want me either.” The smirk she tries to wear is ruined by the tear tracks cutting through it.

Slowly stepping toward her, I only stop when I’m a foot away and she’s forced to look up at me. From here, the tremble in her body is painfully clear. “Let it out, baby. Hurt me if you want. If it makes you feel better.”

It only pisses her off more. “Quit doing that. I’m giving you an out. Just man up andtake it.”

I lean forward, forcing her to read the sincerity in my fucking eyes. “No.”

It bubbles over, a growl starting in her chest as I refuse to be the asshole she so badly wants me to be right now.

“Hurt me instead, Em.”

“You’re just like them,” she hisses. “Pushing me.Keepingme.” She turns to Jesse, who watches us with wide eyes. “Tell him to let me go.”

He shakes his head. “Fuck no.”

Turning, she makes her way to the kitchen, walking quicker. Climbing onto the counter, she reaches to the very top shelf and I laugh, realizing what she’s about to do.

Hearing me, she grabs the gun hidden in a recipe box and turns back toward me, sliding off the counter. Pointing it at my chest, she offers me a cold, hateful smile. “I’ll be leaving now. Don’t try to stop me.”

“Remember what happened last time you tried to leave, Angel?” I pause, watching her confidence falter. “You’re gonna have to shoot me in the head before you leave this property."

“You are just like them,” she grits, and that furious agony burns sharper inside her. “Locking me up. Taking me like I’m some fucking object.” She shakes her head, eyes squeezing shut. “I am sofucking sickof being used to make a man feel good.”

Jesse moves right when I do, the gun shaking in her hands as she replays some awful memory in her head. Reaching up to cover her ears again, the gun rests dangerously against her temple and I see red.

He reaches her first, snatching it away as she shakes from the effort of trying not to fall apart. A gritty, jagged sound escapes anyway, one that hurts to watch fall from her lips. Flicking the safety back on, Jesse sets it on the table as I pick her up, her legs wrapping automatically around my waist. Jesse’s large hands find her hips, swiping up her body from behind her to gently pull her hands from her ears.

“Baby.” There’s no way to hide the worry in my voice, and I don’t really care to. I want her to know that it would take an act of god to make me not want her. To make me ever stop needing her. “Come back to us.”