Page 94 of Dollhouse

My jaw drops, my heart is beating so rapidly in my chest that I swear it will rip right through my flesh.

I know who my captor is.

I escaped him once, and there’s no way in hell I’d survive doing it again.

We fucked up.

Ifucked up.

I labeled Tate as a traitor and said she was just like Stephanie, and that’s not true.

She wasn’t sent to us to become a distraction or to become a weakness, or to even learn our secrets and turn on us.

We took her that night at the club and planned to use her for personal gain.

We went to her. We took her. We fucked up her life, not that it was going so great anyways.

The texts on her phone were faked. The bastard who took her wanted us to believe that she was guilty, he wanted us to doubt her.

Why? So we wouldn’t look for her?

I fucked up.

I should’ve listened when Rowen told me she wasn’t trying to do anything to fuck us behind our backs. But I was too stubborn to listen. I wrote her off as a traitor without proof.

I’m such a fucking idiot.

If anything happens to her, it’s all on me.

It’s been four days since she’s been gone, and Rowen can’t stand being in the same room as me. He blames me, but not as much as I blame myself. I sure as fuck won’t tell him that though. I made a bad decision. But we can’t sit around and dwell on it. She’s gone, it happened, so now we need to figure out a way to get her back.

I need to get her back.

She probably hates us.

I can only imagine what she’s been thinking after King shot her. Knowing her, she’s probably thinking the worst. And she has every right to, because I thought the worst about her too.

I should’ve gone to her and allowed her to explain herself and answer the questions we all had.

We should’ve fucking talked it out instead of me jumping to conclusions.

Why did she run? That’s the lingering question.

If she’s truly innocent, why the fuck did she slip out the window and run toward that bastard like King says? That’s one part that doesn’t make any sense. Why run from us? Security and I both searched her phone. There were no calls, and the only text exchange was from the unknown number, which we know now was fake. The bastard planted the texts on her phone, the timestamp doesn’t add up. Which means that someone was in the bathroom afterward who took her phone and sent the texts to make her appear guilty, knowing we’d find the texts and phone.

And he was right.

How did she know to go out the window and go toward the van?

Right after reading the texts King went back to Confess and just like the text said, her phone was discarded in the trash bin. We gave the phone to Detective Reynolds to check for fingerprints, and we’ve been waiting on results. I doubt he’ll find anything; this fucker is good at covering his tracks.

When I find him, and I will find him, I’m going to rip him limb from fucking limb. King won’t be the only one who gets to have bloody fun.

“I got something!” Maverick practically jumps up from the table, he’s the head of her security team and he was assigned with the task of checking the video surveillance footage from the time of Tate’s abduction in search for any signs of the van that took her. We’re all sitting in the living room of our penthouse going through every fucking piece of information we can come up with in search for answers.

“What do you have?” I set a file down, giving him my full attention. He brings his laptop over and hands it to me, showing me the black and white video footage.

“There’s the van that drove away with Tate. They drove right through a red light that captured their license plate.” Finally! Finally, we have a fucking break. I stand from the couch where I’ve been the last four days and pace around the room while King and Rowen discuss the video footage.

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