Dollhouse
“Nothing makes sense anymore. Nothing feels true.
In my bones, everyone feels like a liar.”
THE SCORNED
I don’t know what’s real, and that’s terrifying.
Noah’s hand rubs absentmindedly along my arm, back and forth. Yesterday, it would have been comforting, but now it just feels like a trap.
The part of me that’s starving for him wants to believe he’s telling the truth. Needs to believe that he hadn’t sold me out, that it’s just another trick up Bundy’s sleeve.
And yet? I lay here with my head in his lap, feigning sleep. Afraid of what will happen next.
I want to trust him, but my eyes stay shut, pretending. Hiding.
Nothing makes sense.
My head goes in slow circles, while his hand does the same.
Neither one makes me feel better.
The Reaper
She’s too busy fixating on her feelings for me, beating herself up over wanting me when I’m clearly more possessive than I’d let on. Maybe a little toxic. But she knew I wasn’t a good man when she met me. Or more accurately, when I kidnapped her.
I’ll leave her to it, because while she frets herself over something as silly as morals, I’ll be protecting her, Jesse, and Bo from the growing threat of Bundy’s organization. What started as revenge against Emma’s husband has quickly spiraled out of hand, and one of the most powerful traffickers of the day now has his sights set on my family. On Emma.
One day he’ll beg me for mercy someday, and he’ll never find it. For a man that covets what I have—that hurts those that belong to me—death is the only sentence I recognize.
We can’t hide from what’s coming for us. They are coming.
If they find her, it will be a massacre. And I’ll be the reaper at the very heart of it all.
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