Page 73 of The Dollhouse

I fucking hated it. I hated I had to clean up and pretend to be someone else. I was an enforcer, a hitman, for fuck’s sake, not an actor. That meant, unfortunately, hardly anyone knew my face, so clean me up, slap a little cologne on me and put me in a suit, and I was someone else entirely.

All so Lola could worm her way into that club. Might be useful in the long run, but we’ll see.

My phone rang while I was at a stoplight, and I picked it up once I saw the name flashing across my screen. It should go without saying, but you never ignored a call from your boss, especially when your boss was Roman Russo.

“Carter,” Roman’s deep, low voice spoke on the other line the moment I picked up. The man didn’t even give me a chance to say hello, but that’s what I’d come to expect from him. “I trust you’re finished with Lola for the night?” It was damn near midnight, but the city around me was still alive, the sidewalks bustling with people and the streets full of cars.

“Yeah,” I muttered, frowning to myself. “Why? Is there another job?” A part of me was hoping, even praying, for a job. I’d love to get myself bloody after spending a few hours watching Lola.

“Meet me at the Dollhouse.” And then, before he said anything more, he hung up.

The Dollhouse? It wasn’t a strange request, but now that Roman had settled his obsession on Zoey, we usually went to his house instead. He had a whole room set up for it, though I was down to be with Zoey regardless of where we were.

But the Dollhouse it would be tonight, I guessed. As I drove to the club, I couldn’t stop my body from growing excited, my dick starting to get hard in my pants. With the pants I wore now, a hard dick would be more than noticeable, but I couldn’t stop it. Yeah, I could go for a few rounds with Zoey, let out some steam and some stress after tonight, get wild, as I liked to.

The Dollhouse was on the far edge of town, so it took me a while to get there. Twenty minutes later, I pulled into the parking lot, and as I got out of the car, I noticed it was empty, save for Roman’s vehicle. That was odd, but I thought nothing of it. Roman had bought the place when Zoey first started working, to control her, basically. Zoey had fought him every step of the way, but even she couldn’t deny the fact she kind of liked being controlled.

Sometimes it was freeing, not having to make the decisions.

I strolled to the front door, walking in and finding the place was just like its parking lot: empty. Well, empty except for the ones sitting near the stage—Zoey, Roman, and… Lake? My legs stopped the moment I saw his blonde head, and I wondered what the fuck that guy was doing here.

Zoey was with all of us, yes, but that didn’t mean I had to like it. Lake was so… stupid. Stupid and lame and too fucking normal. He was going to college, working at some retail store in the city. That nerd had no redeeming qualities whatsoever.

But I wasn’t the one dating him. Zoey was, and more times than not, I pushed the little threesome out of my mind. That had been a heat of the moment kind of thing, not something I wanted to repeat. Now, if Roman wanted to take Zoey with me? I was all for that.

But not Lake. Not again.

With a sigh, I walked up to them. Roman didn’t get up; he merely turned his head to look at me, an unreadable expression on his face. His dark eyes took in my appearance, and then they returned to Zoey, where they most often were.

Zoey bounced to her feet, her pink-haired head bobbing as she grinned at me, checking me out. “Carter, you look… different,” she said, still smiling like an idiot. If ever there was someone who was reserved, someone who kept their emotions close to their chest, it was not Zoey. Not when it came to us. “But good. Different, but good.” She leaned toward me, standing on her tiptoes as she reached for my face, running a hand along my smooth jaw. “I like it.”

Lake, meanwhile, pretended to be entranced with his lap. He sat at the same table as Roman, but as far away from him as possible. His thin, wiry frame wore a Spider-man T-shirt. What a weirdo.

“What’s going on?” I asked, trying to keep the annoyed tone from my voice. It was good to be here with Roman and Zoey, but Lake?Really? Why washehere?

Zoey stepped back, setting a hand on her hip as she mockingly glared up at me. “Your birthday.”

“Was yesterday,” I said. “So?”

“So? You never told me your birthday was yesterday,” she said, shaking her head slightly, as if she couldn’t believe me.

“I don’t celebrate it.”

“Oh, you don’t? So, you don’t want the present I have for you?”

I glanced at Roman, wondering what the hell she was talking about. Roman’s dark stare gave nothing away, but if he was here, if the Dollhouse was empty on a night it otherwise would’ve made quite a bit of money, I could put it together.

She was going to dance forme.

Dance, strip, whatever.

Bringing my eyes back to her, I said, “If this is my present, why is your other boyfriend here? Shouldn’t it be all mine?” Mine and Roman’s, I meant; we had been sharing everything for a long time now.

“Hey,” Lake spoke up, looking so out of place here, in the dim lighting. “I take offense to that. She’s my girlfriend too, you know. If she’s going to do a… a strip-tease, or whatever, then I get to see it, too—” He was silenced by a glare from Roman.

“Zoey wants him here,” Roman muttered to me, “so the boy is here.”

“Again, for the millionth time,” Lake chimed in, “I’m not a boy. I’m twenty years old. Definitely not a boy, last time I checked.”

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