I jerk a nod. “It’s the only way.”
He nods back, then gives my shoulder a squeeze that almost feels like an apology.
Ford laughs, low and wicked. “Oh, this is gonna be good. I’ll bring the lube.”
I cut him a glare, then turn and walk away, leaving them behind and heading down the hall toward my own bedroom. Each step echoes with the unsettling realization that I’ve been sold for the second time in a week.
But at least this time,Iwas the one signing on the dotted line.
At least this time, it wasmychoice.
I step into my room and close the door behind me, leaning back against it and letting myself slowly slide down to the floor. My hands fall in my lap, and I stare at the angry red crescents my fingernails have carved into my palms, drawing a slow, steadying breath.
Even now, I can still feel it. The phantom pressure of Raf’s hand on my throat, the press of his thumb against my tongue. The taste of him lingering in my mouth.
This is the price of survival, I tell myself.
This is what it takes to win.
Let the games begin.
CHAPTER 10
FORD
“Let’sgo over the rules one more time,” Wes says, like any of us gives a fuck. As if Ava doesn’t already have every last syllable burned into her brain after the last half hour of verbal waterboarding.
He’s sitting at the kitchen table with his hands folded, back straight, sleeves rolled just high enough to show off the muscles in his arms. The guy can’t go ten minutes without peacocking, and today he’s especially amped, his eyes flicking over Ava’s face like he’s cataloging every micro-expression.
Ava exhales slowly through her nose. “You’ve already made me repeat them twice,” she mutters.
I watch the way she spins her coffee cup in tight little circles, jaw flexing like she’s debating whether to drink it or smash it over Wes’ head instead.
I like this new version of her. Less scared rabbit, more mean little hellcat. I could spend all day poking her just to watch her bare her teeth.
She’s wearing one of those plaid miniskirts again– knee socks, tight black turtleneck hugging every curve and turning her whole body into an invitation. She knows what it does tome, and the worst part is that she knows I know she knows. And she’s doing it anyway, just to tempt me.
If she keeps this up, I’m not making it to lunchtime before I’ve got my hands on her.
“Let’s review anyway,” Wes says, clearly determined to pretend he’s running a corporate meeting instead of babysitting a hostage situation.
He glances at Raf, who’s slouched in the corner chair with his arms crossed and his mouth set in that permanentI dare you to make this my problemline. If Wes is the campaign manager, Raf’s the silent majority. He could shut this whole circus down with one word if he felt like it, but instead he just sits there watching, eyes dark and unreadable.
I decide to break the monotony.
“Somebody’s got a stick up their ass today,” I say, flashing Ava a shit-eating grin. “Come on, Doll. Recite for the class. What’s your story?”
She glares at me, but after a second she rattles it off anyway.
“If anyone asks, I was home sick. I don’t mention the Dollhouse, I don’t make a scene.” Her fingers drift up to the delicate chain around her neck, brushing the collar that marks her as ours. “And even if someone pushes,” she finishes bitterly, “I need to act like everything’s fine.”
She saysfinewith enough venom to kill an elephant.
“Perfection,” I say, tipping an imaginary hat.
Wes lifts a finger like he’s about to deliver a TED Talk. “And if anyone asks what you were sick with, you say?”
Ava glances at him, then me, then the ceiling like she’s hoping divine intervention might save her. “Stomach bug.”
