Page 48 of Dollhouse

“I didn’t know I was pregnant,” she whispered, tears rolling down her pale cheeks that I quickly wiped away.

“This shouldn’t be happening. I’m so sorry, Lee. I promise, I will get you out of here.” She wrapped her arms around my neck and shook her head.

“I will never leave without you, Rowen.” Before either of us could say anything else, the spotlight was on us, and Greg was already filming. We knew what that meant, so she laid back while I undressed myself.

I kept my eyes closed while I assaulted her; I couldn’t stand to look in her eyes and see the pain and discomfort I was causing her, especially after having a miscarriage. She was still bleeding and raw.

Once we were finished, as usual, Greg took the white sheets off the bed containing her blood and folded them, placing them in a secure bag in order to ship them to one of the men on his pedophile website that liked to have souvenirs.

When he left the studio, I laid down and held Lee’s cold, shaking body in my arms while she cried.

“I’m so sorry, Lee. I’m so sorry for hurting you and doing this to you.” She looked up at me with her teary eyes.

“Stop apologizing, Rowen. I want it to be you, I wouldn’t want him to be the one touching me. And you didn’t hurt me.”

“Then why are you crying if I didn’t hurt you?” She kissed my cheek and cuddled back into my arms, never giving me an answer to why she was crying. Instead, she removed the bandage from my arm to inspect the damage I’d done with my razor. Her pale blue lips parted with a gasp once she realized what I’d carved into my arm. There, on the middle of my left forearm, was her name carved deep into my skin.

* * *

The feelof a warm body and movement beside me wake me from my dreams. Only this time, I’m not waking from my nightmares in a panic.

It’s been two weeks since I got shot and Tate hasn’t left my side since.

We haven’t spoken any further about our past, as that’s been a heavy topic we’ve been avoiding, instead, we’ve been focusing on the present. And honestly, we don’t even talk much, but when we do, it’s simple and meaningless.

It’s almost as if we don’t know how to be around each other again when we’re avoiding such a heavy conversation.

Since Doc cleared me to return to the penthouse and sleep in my own bed, she’s been sleeping with me every night.

I know it’s driving King crazy not having her there to keep his bed and his dick warm, but I appreciate that she’s here taking care of me.

Speaking of King, the bed shifts before I hear his voice whispering something inaudible into Tate’s ear, which causes her to giggle, and that instantly turns into a low groan.

“Stop, he could wake up. Hands to yourself.” She giggles again.

“Come on, I can be quick. I miss you,” he whispers, and now it’s my turn to groan, only this time in frustration.

“Too late, I’m already awake. And don’t you two dare think about having sex in my bed with me in it,” I grumble, rubbing my eyes and slowly opening them.

“You can join,” King says with all seriousness in his tone.

“He just got shot, leave him alone. Go make us breakfast,” she scolds him.

“I didn’t hear a denial to my offer of a threesome. I’ll make you breakfast if you take a shower with me. Just because Ro is suffering, doesn’t mean I have to.” King is nothing if not persistent. Tate scoffs, then pulls him to her and plants a long, lingering kiss on his lips. My chest aches with jealousy.

With hearts in his eyes and a tent in his pants, King leaves my room, and suddenly I can’t help but laugh.

“You’ve got him so pussy whipped,” I say. She sits up on her knees and looks down at me, shrugging off my words.

“How are you feeling?” she asks with concern in her voice. Doc says I’m out of the woods, but need to take it easy for a few more weeks. She asks me the same question every morning and my answer is always the same.

“I’m fine. I’m feeling a lot better,” I answer, but she doesn’t seem convinced.

She’s been giving me five-star treatment the last two weeks. Anything that I’ve needed she’s been right there to help me with or do for me.

“Let’s go get breakfast.” I sit up, and she’s right by my side to help me stand, even though I’m not in any pain.

I think in her mind that by helping me, it’s also helping her, so I don’t complain even though I no longer require any help.

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