Page 90 of Dollhouse

“We don’t know anything for fact, Ro. You’re blinded by your connection to her,” Eli huffs. I don’t answer him. He’s wrong. He’s so fucking wrong.

We fucked up, and he can’t admit it.

This is on all three of us.

Is she innocent? That’s the lingering question.

There are too many unanswered questions that I intend to get the answers to.

My head is throbbing.

I can feel my blood and pulse thumping inside my skull.

I don’t know how long I’ve been unconscious. When I open my eyes, it’s foggy and I can feel the sun shining down on my face.

My mouth is dry, my muscles ache and my entire body feels stiff.

Blinking, I bring my hands up and push the heels of my palms into my eyes and scrub away the fog.

With a groan, I slowly sit up and stretch my aching arms above my head.

With rapid blinks, I clear my vision enough to be able to look around my surroundings, hoping to find something to tell me where I am.

I’m in a small, cemented room, with one single window that has steel bars over it.

There goes that idea for an escape.

With my hands against the cold cement wall, I use it to help me stand, my legs shaky and unsteady. I feel the ache in my side when I stand, and a soft cry leaves my lips.

I take a slow step toward the door, only to fall to my hands and knees suddenly.

What the fuck? Why can’t I move?

Looking down at my legs, I see the ankle cuff that is around my left ankle, connecting me to a chain to the wall. I sit up and grab the chain, pulling on it in hopes it’ll break.

I’m chained to the fucking wall. Who the fuck does that shit? What the actual fuck?

I’m still wearing my dress.

The white now nearly completely brown with all of the stains on it.

Dirt, blood, garbage, vomit, and who knows whatever else.

I brush my hair out of my face, cringing at the crunch of my matted hair. It’s like a bird’s nest on top of my head. Gross.

I use the wall for support again to help me stand and lean against the wall. I carefully pull my dress up until it’s underneath my breasts and my left side is exposed so I see exactly what the situation is.

There’s a bandage wrapped around my stomach. With slow fingers, I unwrap it to see my wound. I’ve been shot, and I can see my pink skin tissue inside the hole in my body. Bile rises in my throat, I swallow it down and close my eyes, carefully putting the gauze back into place and then pull my dress down.

Someone cleaned and dressed my wound. It doesn’t appear to be bleeding anymore, and from the looks of it, it’s a straight through shot. At least the bullet isn’t inside of me. I may not be bleeding and may have a bandage, but I know I’ll need to get to a doctor. I’ll need a professional to look at it to prevent infection.

I wonder what else happened to me while I was unconscious. I’m not wearing any panties, and I can’t tell if the ache between my legs is still from Eli, or from someone else.

I need to get the fuck out of here, that’s for damn certain.

How the fuck am I going to get out of here? Where even is here?

King was the one that shot me, meaning this was part of their plan, so I know that they’re not coming to rescue me.

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