“I just told you,” I snap, frustration breaking through. “I want the truth. All of it. No more secrets, no more bullshit power trips. If you want me to keep playing along, then at least tell me what the hell I’m playing for.”
Ford shakes his head, chuckling under his breath. “You don’t get it, do you?” he asks, the knife flipping lazily through his fingers. “You’re not holding any cards here, baby. You’re the goddamn pot.”
“Then cash out,” I say, surprising even myself with the certainty in my voice. “Or deal me in for real.”
Wes tilts his head, studying me like he’s trying to decide how much of the old Ava is still in me. “She’s got a point,” he says finally. “Shit’s different now. It won’t take long for the Dollhouse to figure out she’s here. We should at least need to bring her up to speed so she understands what we’re dealing with.”
Ford rolls his eyes. “She can’t handle it.”
“I survived the Dollhouse,” I say, folding my arms across my chest. “I can handle anything you throw at me.”
Ford grins wider, flashing a row of perfect white teeth. “That sounds like a challenge.”
Wes pointedly ignores him, turning back to me. “You want to pull back the curtain?” he asks. “Fine, we’ll tell you what you need to know. But you need to understand something first. There are certain things we can’t disclose– not to you, not to anyone.”
Ford pushes off the couch and starts toward me with his usual predatory swagger. “Let me get this straight,” he drawls, stopping so close I can smell his stupidly expensive cologne. “You think you can just walk back in here and start making demands?”
I don’t flinch. “Yes. If you want me to stay, tell me everything. Otherwise, I’ll leave.”
For a moment, he just stares at me. I feel the room tilting, feel the power shifting, and for the first time since I arrived at Corvus, I’m the one steering the conversation.
A muscle in Ford’s jaw jumps as he leans back, crossing his arms. “You’re missing something, sweetheart. If you walk outta here, it’s not us you’ll have to worry about. The Dollhouse will come to collect their property.”
A chill snakes up my spine, but I try not to let it show. “Let them try.”
Ford’s eyes gleam, vicious and bright. “Oh, they will,” he says with a low chuckle. “And you know what happens then, right?”
I do. Hell, I’ve lived it. But I’m too stubborn to give him the satisfaction of seeing my fear, so I square my shoulders and give a short, defiant nod.
Ford’s eyes flick to Raf, who still hasn’t said a single word. The tension in the room spikes, the air so thick with testosterone and unspoken threats that I have to force my next breath in.
Wes senses the shift, stepping in and trying to soften the blow. “You’re safe as long as you’re here with us.”
The way he says it makes my stomach turn. As if it’s a comfort. As if being owned by these monsters is any better than being owned by the ones who run the Dollhouse.
Ford steps in closer, mouth curving into a smile as he flips the butterfly knife once between his fingers before raising it between us. I suck in a quiet gasp as the sharp tip settles against the hollow of my throat.
“So let’s try this again, shall we?” he murmurs, hazel eyes glinting with amusement. “What can you offer us in exchange for protection?”
Fear ricochets through me at the cold press of the blade against my skin. My pulse jumps wildly beneath the point of it as I stare up at him, my mind suddenly blank.
Wes moves before I can answer, shoving Ford aside with a frustrated grunt.
“Stop being such a prick,” he mutters.
Ford stumbles back a step, laughing under his breath as Wes takes his place in front of me.
“We’ll tell you what you need to know,” Wes says, gray eyes locked on mine. “At least what we can.”
I nod slowly.
As pissed as I still am at Wes, he’s the only one I seem to have any leverage with. If there’s a crack in the armor here, it’s him– so I need to swallow my pride, set aside my feelings, and lean into it. At least for now.
“I… I want to know about the Invictus,” I say. “What they do. How you got involved. Who’s in charge.”
Wes hesitates, glancing toward his friends.
Ford shrugs noncommittally, but Raf remains silent. He hasn’t said a single word since he talked me down from that panic attack on the side of the road.
