He shoots her a soft, goofy glance before turning his attention back to the road.
Bailey releases his hand and swings her arm over the seat, ruffling Miller’s buzzed hair like he’s a child despite the fact he’s a good foot taller than her sitting down. “You’ve already met Miller,” she provides.
He swats her hand away with a scowl, but there’s no real heat in it. Just quiet affection.
“And Drew rounds out our merry band of thieves,” Bailey continues, smiling fondly.
I blink at her. “So… you’re all together, or–?”
She laughs, tipping her head back against the seat. “Polycules are the least of the world’s problems, babe. Just pick whichever label makes you feel better.” A smirk quirks her lips. “Or don’t. Labels are for shampoo bottles, not love.”
Both men in the car look at her like she’s sunlight incarnate. Bailey’s magnetic, and they orbit around her with an easy precision that makes the Kings look like chaos goblins by comparison. I’m not sure whether to feel jealous of her or relieved that my own situation isn’t as strange as I thought.
Since arriving at Corvus College, I’ve felt ashamed for being attracted to multiple men. Even more so for being intimate with both Ford and Wes. But if someone as badass as Bailey can have three boyfriends and look this happy… why couldn’t I?
I dismiss that thought as quickly as it entered my brain, reminding myself how much I loathe the Kings. They’re monsters. Bailey’s guys aren’t.
Keane reaches over and wraps a hand around her thigh, giving it a squeeze. She slaps his hand away, wagging a finger in his face. “Focus, babe. You promised not to wreck this Jeep.”
I instinctively reach for the grab handle again, catching the tone in her voice that strongly implies there was another Jeep he already wrecked.
Keane huffs and eases off the gas, just barely. “I’m riding the high of danger, baby. And you can’t sit next to me looking likethatand expect me not to touch.”
He tries to reach for her again, and Bailey slaps his hand away a second time. He jerks it back dramatically, sucking in a sharp breath through his teeth.
“Damn, woman,” he hisses. “You tryin’ to kill me?”
Bailey rolls her eyes and glances back at me over the seat. “He’s always this dramatic.”
I huff a quiet laugh and drop my gaze, suddenly feeling like I’m intruding on a private moment. My fingers twist together in my lap as my mind races, trying to make sense of everything that’s happened in the last twenty minutes.
“So… what happens now?” I ask hesitantly. “Do I get a passport and a new face?”
Keane lets out a sharp laugh. “We’re not the Witness Protection Program, Doll.”
Bailey shoots him a glare, then turns back to me, her expression softening. “But you’re safe,” she says gently. “Nobody’s tracking you, nobody’s following us. We made a clean getaway.”
I don’t know why I believe her so easily, but I do. My shoulders loosen, a shaky breath rattling out of me.
Keane cocks a brow at me in the rearview mirror. “How’d a nice girl like you wind up in the Dollhouse, anyway?”
“My stepfather sold me,” I answer flatly, because I don’t have the emotional bandwidth to try to sugarcoat it.
The silence that follows is absolute. Miller’s eyes widen slightly, something dark and violent flashing through them as his jaw tightens. Keane mutters something under his breath that sounds a lot likefucking scumbag, and Bailey’s hand slowly curls into a fist on her thigh.
I shift in my seat, turning toward Miller. “Do you know Gideon?” I ask, because his reaction felt… personal.
He answers with a single sharp jerk of his chin.
Bailey sighs softly. “He’s a man of few words,” she explains. “But who needs words when you’ve got muscles like that?”
Miller’s expression instantly changes as his gaze flicks to her, the murderous tension melting away into something painfully adoring.
If anyone ever looked at me like that, I’d consider myself the luckiest girl alive.
Bailey smiles back at him before turning her attention to me again. “I’m sorry girl,” she says quietly. “Truly. It’s bad enough to walk into that place of your own volition, but to besold, and by your own family…” her voice trails off as she shudders.
“Do you live there?” I ask, still trying to piece everything together. She was wearing the Dollhouse loungewear, and she moved through that place like she knew every corner of it.
