Page 74 of Dollhouse

His hand rises from my lower back where it had rubbed small, soothing circles, up to curl around the back of my neck. “I’ll be yours too, Em, if you want. I’ll cube those motherfuckers for you and stack their pieces into cute little pyramids. You’d like that?”

I laugh, the image ridiculous. “That’s the creepiest thing anyone’s ever said to me, but it means a lot.”

His hand squeezes, a reassuring pressure to remind me I’m not alone.

The door opens, Noah’s tall frame filling the open space and we both look up at him. He takes in the sight of us, hanging onto each other, the almost empty bottle at our feet. “It’s ten in the morning.”

Jesse shakes his head. “It’s time to go.”

Rolling his eyes, he steps toward me and I’m once more surprised to feel the tightening in my stomach as I watch him. Some part of me had worried I’d completely lose the ability to feelneed.It was such an integral part of our dynamic, I don’t know who we would be without it.

But it’s still there, clearly. His dark hair cutting messily across amber eyes that are fixated completely on me. The black shirt he wears hangs perfectly on the muscles they cover, and I could spend hours tracing the tattoo’s on his arms. Maybe I will, what else do we have to do today?

“Eyes, Em.” I snap them up to his face, catching the small smile there. “What are you two getting into up here?”

“Just talking,” I say, licking my lips. “About when you were kids.”

His eyes narrow as Jesse tightens his grip on my neck. “Is that right?”

“Nothing bad, I swear,” Jesse says. “Just letting her know how I was your knight in shining armor growing up?—”

Jesse grins as Noah yanks his hood lower, covering his face and pushing him off the side of the bed. He lands with a thud on the wooden floor, laughing for the first time in so long. Noah grabs my hand, pulling me up and into his chest. “You okay?” His mouth traces my brow, pausing at my temple.

I nod, and it’s true. Right now, for the first brief moment since he stormed the room and saved my life, I do feel okay. And maybe it will only last a few minutes, who knows, but it’s something; the eclipse inside my head isn’t permanent.

“Yeah. I’m okay.”

He pulls me closer, tucking my head under his chin. The strong beat of his heart pounds in my ear, a cadence of life, and pushing forward. Even if it sucks. Even if ithurts.

“I love you,” I say, my hand on his back and my other reaching for Jesse. He squeezes it, acknowledging the moment. Noah’s hand on my head grips me tighter. I know he’ll never let me go again, and I like that.

I understand Bo and why he did what he did. But for me? I can’t imagine leaving this behind.

THIRTY-EIGHT

Four Weeks Later

The thingabout Emma is that she’s actually one of the smartest people I’ve ever met. Or maybe just one of the most manipulative, it’s hard to say.

Either way, she’s started turning my habit of watching her against me. In ways that might get her what she wants, almost like she’s hoping I won’t realize I’m being played. She forgets I have my Master’s in psychological warfare. I’m a Finch, for fucks sake.

I noticed it first when I was watching one of her more recent counseling sessions with Amy; there’d been this kind of wistful look to cross her face as she sat petting Molly absently. Then, she’d turned back to Amy and bit her lip.

“I’ve been having another recurring thought,” she starts.

That's when I catch her. Her eyes flit to the corner of the room. Not the right one, but the one she’s guessing I have a tiny camera hooked up.

She’s thinking about me watching this. “You little troublemaker,” I mutter to myself, kicking back to see just whatthis hour has in store for me. True, she’s learned a lot of tricks being with us, but she’s still got to work on being sly. It doesn’t look natural on her and to be quite honest, I don’t know that it could. Emma and stealth? It’s a question mark.

She pretends to focus on Molly for a moment while Amy listens, careful not to push. “It’s just that, I thought I’d be more touch adverse. Now. After.”

Amy ponders that, watching her. “I’m assuming that’s not the case?”

Emma shakes her head. “I almost feel like I’m starving for it. I need it, contact, to sleep. Ever since the night I came home. I have to have more than one person sleeping with me. And being alone just feels hard, because I seem to get lost in my head. Or get lost trying to avoid my head. But when someone’s touching me, or holding me, I can’t disappear.”

Oh, pretty girl. I see what you’re doing.

“Not everyone reacts the same, Emma. Every person on Earth has their own specific way of healing, what is ideal for them. As long as we are being honest with ourselves and each other about your reasoning for why and what you want, we can use it to help get you to a happier place.”