Page 64 of Dollhouse

“What’s his name?” Eli sits up straighter, his fingers flying across his keyboard.

“I don’t remember, fuck! He was weird. She was moved a few months after she was placed in the same home as him. But even after she left, he stalked her for a long-ass time. They were only in the same home for a few months.”

“Tate had a stalker and you’re just now remembering this?” I roll my eyes, earning a glare from Rowen.

“Fuck, he has a weird and unusual name. His name is Bingo, Jackpot, Spades, something fucking weird.” Rowen bounces his leg, snapping his fingers together repeatedly, “Ace! Ace Jackson!” The two of us crowd Eli on the couch, watching as he searches for Tate’s foster brother.

“What the fuck?” Eli mumbles, standing from the couch. He holds his laptop in his left hand and scrolls with his right.

“What’s wrong? Did you find him?”

“That’s what’s wrong. The only trace of an Ace Jackson is a rental agreement for an apartment he leased… nine months ago—the same date Tate came here.” He turns the screen for us to see.

“This is the only trace of him. I can’t even find any juvenile files on him. He was in foster care, yet there’s no record of it.” Eli could find anything on anyone. Between him and our security team, they could uncover everything about a person. Sealed juvenile records or not, he could unseal them.

So, for him to not find anything besides a lease agreement is fucking odd.

What is the little fucker hiding?

It’s been three days since I watched King kill a man.

I should’ve been disgusted or terrified.

I should’ve asked him to stop or run away.

I should’ve done anything other than what I did.

No, instead I fucked him right next to a dead body, with blood covering him head to toe.

I even let him chain me to the bloodstained chains that the man had been hung to while King tortured him and then killed him.

God, what was wrong with me?

Am I really that fucked up?

That’s the second murder I’ve witnessed, and I feel the same way now as I did all those years ago when I witnessed Rowen kill our abuser.

Nothing. Absolutely nothing.

No remorse, sympathy, nothing.

I see the way the three of them watch me when I walk around the house. I think they’re expecting me to break at any moment and to be afraid of them or of what they’re capable of, but honestly, it only makes me want them even more.

All three of them.

That brings me to another realization, I want all three men. I’m fucking two of them and it’s only a matter of time before I take Eli’s cock too, and we all know it.

Lusting after three men is stirring up memories from my marriage that I’ve done my best to avoid.

You’re a whore.I hear his voice in my head whenever King or Rowen kiss me.

Only whores wear red.I look down at my red fingernails.

You’re nothing.He’d look at me with disgust.

When my men look at me, there’s no disgust in their eyes, only pure lust and something I can’t exactly pinpoint.

Love, maybe? No, that’s not possible. But why not? Why couldn’t they love me? Iamgood enough.

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